Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

fly buy nostalgia dubai

33 years is a long time. Especially when you are 42.
When we left Dubai for Mumbai it was such a harrowing experience. From a large well protected cocoon to a crazy place of nothing. I wondered if I would ever go back and if ever on what terms. Would I get a job to live back there or visit as a tourist or for any other reason? I remember air travel was such a luxury and the cost of the tickets extremely prohibitive. We never again went by air travel within the country itself, forget going out of the country. It was something that never happened.
Over the years, definitely air travel became more affordable. If I remember right, the prices have fundamentally remained at the same absolute rate even after twenty-thirty years making the trip very affordable, but somehow Dubai always eluded me. With the markets doing well and I am back at my old broking company, when the offsite was announced for Dubai, I smiled to myself. I going home after 33 years. Wow. I was a little 9 year old boy when left Dubai for India. Now I would be going back on official business as a senior executive. Hah!
I am not going to talk about how Dubai has changed. Of course it has. It’s got shit load of wealth and it’s a city that decided to make its income from tourism and construction. Of course it a mad place. Its got some crazy large structures with massive buildings. In fact it’s got the tallest building in the world on top a massive mall. Dubai super sizes everything. Of course it’s changed and I couldn’t recognize anything on the way to the hotel till I saw the World trade Centre building. It was the building that was the tallest at its time. I remember going there with family just to see the building and having an outing around it. We posed for photos around the place. It was 30 odd stories high. Now that building looks like a pygmy with 60 storied buildings everywhere, making me lose a sense of perspective.
We shopped and hopped around Dubai till we had a chance to do a desert safari in the big Toyota SUVs. Those guys took us on the dunes, or as they say, bashing the dunes and skid on them etc. It was fun till one of the cars had a bit of tyre trouble and all the cars just had to park around to help him, in the idle of the desert. That’s when eth real fun started. People climbed on top of the dunes to pose for photos and jump around. That’s when I remembered my childhood. I was on top and the guys were climbing up when I saw this sweet round colleague of mine trying to climb up. I ran down towards him and took him to the ground. Then I ran after another and threw him down. Ad they posed for photos I threw a few more. Soon a few more joined in and it was complete chaos and I felt like a 6 year old all over again. Going up the sand dunes and rolling down with someone. We were full of sand and it was crazy ass fun. The guys who joined in had a whale of a time as well. I grew up to this – playing with gay abandon in the sand or rush into the water in the beach. That’s awesome fun.
Before coming back, I got a chance to catch with an old friend from Dubai. Our families were the best of friends and we grew up together while we were there. I asked him, if he could take me to my old house in Diera. He asked his dad for the exact directions and as we were reaching there, we were just looking around my building. It was a distinctive building as I remember that we had a long corner balcony connecting all the rooms. As my friend showed me the police station which I knew was nearby, I told him take a right here and there – that’s it. That’s my building.


After 33 years you get to see your home which gave you so much joy and fun and pride. It was a nice sweet quiet emotional moment for me. It was a large house with two bedrooms, a dining room, two halls and a kitchen. And the long balcony. We were on the third floor and seeing it was something special. Who knew under what circumstances one would have seen the house. It looked smaller than what I had memories of and the distances across the road seemed small. It’s because I was only a tiny boy of 9 and everything in perspective would have been big. Now it looks smaller.
As we were there all the memories kept flooding back. Three kids in our bedroom. In our respective beds jumping and playing. Running in the hall and balcony. Dad vacuuming the carpet on Sundays. Keeping the AC on every day and running around. Playing cricket in the car parking lot and playing cricket eth Pakistani boys who made a ball out of wrapping an induction tape around itself. I so wanted to go up and see the place. It’s a good thing we didn’t have time.

BTW – Jispa asked for stroop waffles and Pofaki from Dubai. She never asks for much and so for her I got 72 Stroopwaffles and 25 packs of Pofaki. Jasmine thought that I was over doing it. Hah! Of course. I am  dad. It’s my job to over do it.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

chomp chump morning!

Today morning I got up to drop Jispa to swimming and decided to go for my badminton. I try and avoid Wednesdays as I think I need one day rest in a week, but since I had bunked my pilates yesterday and I overslept in the bargain I thought I would be able to manage the badminton session.
I figured that I could come home and have breakfast after the game and so I told Jasmine. She asked that if I could come home, then I could possibly come and pick Jispa from the pool and take her to school as well. I thought a bit and said sure, lets try.
I finished my game a bit early, though with the heat the game was over for everybody. Today morning was possibly the hottest and most humid game of the year. We were dying for fresh air in the court. It was a stuffy and tiring and sweaty atmosphere.
I reached home and I had to make my own breakfast. I had the best ingredients for what I wanted to make. I showered and changed and switched the AC on and Then I went into the kitchen and I did not realise what it is to cook against the clock. It was 715 by then. I started chopping the tomates. I then realized that I could treat my self to a bit of coffee as well. I normally restrict my compumstion of coffee in the week. If I havce coffees for two consecutive days then on the third day, without fail I will have a headavhe I don’t have coffee. It happens to the clock, on the dat – after exact 24 hours. I have no clue why coffee depravation headaches are like this. To the CLOCK>
So I savour my coffee in the week. I only have it as a well-considered treat. So while cutting the tomates, I knew I was short of time so I put the water to boil and cut open the new pack of coffee which my dear friend got for me from Bali. It looked extra course to me. I thought I will use the south Indian filter instead of the French press. I packed the coffee in the filter and started to cut the tomatoes again. Then I cut my left thumb. I ran to the bedroom and pulled out a band aid and stuck it on the thumb, cut the rest of the tomatoes (after wiping some the blood from it). I got the bread, removed the chutni from the fridge, applied it fast. Then I removed the foamer from the cupboard and the soya milk from the pantry and then poured the soya milk into the foamer. Then I got the toaster (the one in which you put the sandwich in and put it on the gas flame). Then I got the special lovely awesome lactose free cheese and cut a piece. Jasmine brother in US sent these for me, specially. It’s awesome cheese. Thanks dear friend. There is nothing I love more, than lactose free awesome cheese…. Then I pulled out the grater. Then I put the tomatoes, the cheese and the oregano mix. Then I put the water into the filter. Then I put the Sandwich in the toaster and then I removed the olives form the fridge, then I made a few more sandwiches, then I almost burnt one sandwich, then I managed to remove it from the toaster (it was stuck on one side). Then I made another one, then I removed the coffee from the filter. I think the coffee was too mild as the ground of the coffee was too coarse for the South Indian filter. Then I saw that I had almost burnt the next sandwich, then I got the foamer to work, then the sugar in the coffee, then the sandwich got stuck again and I had to scrape it out. I had to literally take a knife and bang the bread out of the damn toaster. Then I got my third sandwich and the put in the plate, got my coffee and the put some ketchup on the plate and then I sat to eat. Wow…. Cooking is fun but cooking against the clock is crazy. I was done and my heart beat was up.
I sat in the AC to eat my food and I realized that I have to leave in ten minutes. So I get in and slap the stuff on the dining table and started munching the burnt sandwhiches and drinking the very mild shitty coffee and slapping sauce on it. The newspaper hadn’t come till then so I read a few pages on my kindle while eating the breakfast that I made. Damn it man. I took the best possible ingredients and had the worst possible breakfast in my life.
It was now time to run, so I tryand get ready when I remember that jasmine complains that I nowadays don’t clean up after my meals so I pick the plate, the ketchup, the tabasco, the olives, the mug and put everything in its place. I wash the foamer and put that properly in its place. And then I rush out. While I rush out I thought I might as well keep the hall door closed so that it traps some of the air conditioned air so Jasmine gets something nice when she comes in. Then I rush out to the car and rush to pick Jispa who I learn is late as her coach gave them extra practice, after which I had to really speed up to get her to school. Whew.
What a fast paced 70-80 minutes I had. I think my heart rate did not down for an hour afterwards. Then in the afternoon , Jasmine calls up and remarks “so, someone had a nice breakfast with the AC on, huh!”. ARrrrggghhhhhhh. I wanted to take my head and bang it on the table. I told her “I am not telling you but read the blog once I finish it. It was one hell of a shit morning! And I wasted my coffee and my lactose free cheese in the process! 

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

crow away

There are many things that as a child you imbibe and no matter what the mental make up many years hence, some things wont go.
My first tryst with a birds nest was in my granny house. In the good old days the deck up around the house consisted of having simple sofas and a panel that ran around the wall, around six inches from the ceiling. I think it was called the pelmet. In my granny’s house this pelmet ran all around the wall and not just near the curtains. It was on this pelmet that the pigeons and sparrows made their nest. They are irritating birds. The pigeons especially go coo coo through the morning and irritate you through the day. Pigeons like to make their nest inside homes as I guess they offer the best protection from the outside predators. It used to be made of hay and grass. My granny would try to keep the place clean and rid the house of the nests as they are being made. In variably one might just get made and before we realize it – an egg would be placed. Now we are Jains, we like to keep our house really really clean. The idea being that if you keep it clean, you won’t have the insects and birds coming in and then you won’t have to have the burden of removing them. The rule was simple – you keep clearing the nests so that they don’t lay the eggs. But once the eggs are laid, they you are done for. You have no option but to bear the dam thing. You don’t remove a nest in which the egg is laid. Once when my aunt was removing the nests from the pelmets one nest came out with the eggs and the eggs fell and broke. That time I saw repent on her face and she exclaimed, only if she had known. That was my imprint on how and when to remove nests. You have to keep removing them beforehand itself. Afterwards as a Jain you have no option.
I remember once the eggs were laid and the chicks came out. They were all scrawny looking ugly things. My mom woke me up early to see the nest and the babies inside. We would come in from Dubai not having seeing any animal life except the humble Camel. Even a crow, a pigeon or a sparrow was exciting and pigeon chicks…. Wow that was national geographic epic.
In our current house, we have three places where the nesting happens. One we managed to stop this year by putting a bird wire as that window was largely shut in any case. And now we have two places to manage. One near the bathroom window was where we had to let go last year as the eggs were placed. This year some determined work ensured the crows got wiser. The one under the big hall window is now the place where the some dour work is happening by the crows. It’s Jasmine versus the crows now. She keeps removing the nest and they keep building it. It’s an epic battle. They use metal wires to build the nest. They have adapted to all the construction activity happening in Mumbai to build tough metal nests which they later put soft feathers and material in the center cavity.  They weave the nest through the grill outside and make it very difficult to dislodge. Jasmine keeps removing the nest. She has to tug away and pull hard to get it out. while she does it, the crows (around eight she says) take turns to attack her. They fly away to the opposite building and then fly in crowing menacingly… kaw kaw kaw. Its an all out attack on Jasmine is pretty scared that they will peck her, so she gets her maid to remove the nest and she stands guard shooing the crows away. Over the weekend, Jispa was on guard. This week end they were especially prolific. They kept building the nest and we kept removing it. I think we removed the wires around 6 times in a day. Their season was really approaching. It was a fun battle. At eth endof eth weekend the pile of wire was three feet high. I also think the crows know whom to attack. They seem to attack less ferociously if I am around. I can remove the nest without external help. It’s crazy how fast the animals adapt. These crows know male from female and they have started using construction material. It’s like the militant monkeys at Matheran. They know whom to attack and when to attack. They go for the right foodstuff inside the bags, they like their colas and chips and candy!

It’s a fun thing!

Thursday, September 12, 2013

is it supposed to move or isnt it?

There is nothing that WD 40 can’t solve of course with a little help from duct tape. Both together form a formidable team that can be used to solve almost everything at home.
My first brush with WD 40 was when my dad used it on so many different things. What is WD40 you ask. Tsch tsch. WD 40 is the amazing spray in a blue can which when sprayed on anything will make it move or stop it from creaking. In a home over time everything creaks. Hinges of a door, the stopper that wont stop, the swinging hinges of a swing, the fan, the rollers… everything. I remember dad would remove the WD40 can and pssssttt noise gone. Here is the classic shot of the can. You see the red straw at the side – that is the thing that goes inside the nozzle and helps you direct the spray appropriately. My memories of this bottle is always with the straw. Both would be bound together with a rapidly deteriorating rubber band that half melted and was brittle thanks to the heat.


The other thing was duct tape or cello tape as its popularly called. We would have lots of the borwn tape in the house ready to fix almost everything. Dad was an engineer. He used to have a tool kit around the house and would love to fix everything. Duct tape was the next thing he would use. Just tape it and it would be done.
I can picture my dad on a holiday in his jurta pyjama roaming around the house. Mom would complain about something and dad would examine it. He would either call for the WD40 or duct tape and then a few sprays or tears later – presto – its solved.
Just a couple of days back we had a problem at home. Our fan started giving off a violent noise. A violent creaky noise that would be difficult to ignore while sleeping. I wondered what had gone wrong. Jasmine told me that our maid Devki doesn’t reach clean the fan properly. She simply pulls down the fan blade and dens it while cleaning it. That is the classical Daniel Kahneman thinking fast and slow problem. Jasmine was thinking fast and she was jumping to a conclusion. She put two and two together, saw a cause and an effect and said that Devki must have spoiled it. Possibly the blades are bent. I wondered if we needed to call the electrician. Then I wondered if the fan would fall down on us as something as really wrong with it. I don’t why but I don’t do the ‘do it yourself’ fixing bit these days. I was pretty good at it in the good old days. But now I seem to have given up that part of me. I don’t know why but I think mind experiments are getting the better of hand experiments.
So this time I thought let me look at it myself. I tried aligning the blades. Really rubbish stuff I did. Then I switched the fan on. Still the violent noise was there. So I played around and tried to think about the source. It seemed from the hook by which the fan is hung from the ceiling. So I tried to realign the fan on the hook. It still seemed to be an issue. At varying fan speeds, the noise would stop and start. I told Jasmine that the noise is from the top and she suggested WD40. Yes. Did we have it at home? Of course she said. Wow. I forgot we had the essential ingredient at home. So we took the can – with the withering rubber band from the bathroom loft (always there) and sprayed. I felt like dad all over again. A few sprays here and there and a few more just be sure (like dad again) and we switched on the fan. Poof Noise gone. Simple isn’t it.
I told Jasmine that there is nothing you can’t solve with WD40 or Duct tape. Today as I was searching for the WD40 image I saw this image as well of the flow chart of WD40 and duct tape. It seems the world has gotten this idea well before me. Hehehe.



Classic isn’t it?

Monday, October 01, 2012

Its bird, its a plane... its a....


Here is Jispa cutting the cucumbers. I am not a big fan of her using anything as sharp as a knife and definitely no chance of her cutting the veggies. I am not sure if at ten years old she is old enough to cut the veggies. So while we peeled the cucumber and left the table I returned to find her cutting them. I think she did ask if she could cut the cucumbers. Neither jasmine nor I answered her. She easily interpreted it as a yes and she started cutting. My first reaction was to have a go at her, but then I saw that she was super careful while cutting. Look at the pic. Her left hand is well away from the place the knife will make the cut. It’s pretty safe. I held back and said “ok, but don’t cut the tomatoes”. Then the next day again I was slicing the veggies and she wanted to cut the cucumbers, and I agreed. She then asked me “you said yes? So now you think I am old enough to cut the veggies?”. “Well no, I don’t think so. But here cut the cucumbers”. What am I supposed to say? I did say the truth. I don’t think my kid is grown up yet. I don’t think she knows yet how to handle a knife and I don’t think she should be cutting the veggies. But she seized and demonstrated that she can cut the cucumbers and who am I to then rob her independence.

This is critical to evolution. You will force to be independent. You will push your way into places where you want to grow. There is nothing to stop the cub from taking over the pride when the time and strength is right. It’s time for the big cat to move on and forfeit the right to rule. The faster one understands this the better it is. We can’t keep the cub under our protection for much longer. Jispa is now ten and by the time she is fifteen she better be independent. I think she is going to make rapid strides in independence in these five years. More than anything that we would be able to handle. Both jasmine and I need to learn to give up and give way. This is genetically coded in her and this is essential for her survival. How much should I plan for her and how much can protect her. the good old adage ‘protect where you must and permit when you can’ rings true. And as your child grows up the latter takes precedence over the former. Slowly slowly it’s become easier for me to let her be. The problem is that the risks are very large and till they are able to handle it I am unable to bear the burden of their probabilities.

A child will fight for independence and the patriarch must find a way to give it. In a way that both co -exist and exist so in harmony. I too walked away from my old home in a bid to carve out my own niche. I felt far too restricted and constrained to be able to live freely. Passing on the baton is crucial to long term survival. The challenge is to pass on at the right time in the right manner. You read of the strife that people have over ancestral property, that kids are fighting with their elders over the money and property and most importantly the business that needs to be inherited. It’s easy and obvious to think that the son is wrong in this case. It is his duty to take care of the elderly and move on in a manner there is least resistance. But then the father is also at fault. From day one, the child is expected to take over the reins and is taught that all of this will logically once belong to him. That he has to run it independently and when he does so the father is threatened and wants to still take string control. It is there in business and is present in homes at well. Even at home there is a power struggle as to who rules the house. I have heard this and I assume so have many – this is my house and in my house you have to stay by my rules. What this leads to is different under different circumstances – one – the growing boy will lead a revolt to either take over. This will happen when the stakes are relatively large. He will mount a coup. The second – the boy stays put and stays with simmering rage. Third – he walks away and risks bad ties forever. Fourth – Stays put and loses identity and worse – loses his notion of independence.

Coexistence is always the fifth option. But that takes two to work on it. The parents to allow the child leverage and the child to allow the parent respectful and happy place in the family. Enough moral science books (possibly written by the elderly) put the focus on this squarely on the shoulders of the accommodating child, but the reality is always a bit convoluted and murky. Who started it? Who set the ball rolling? Who allowed for independence and groomed for it only to keep it subdued. That’s why reality is always a relative thing.

One old student came and asked me for advice. He was telling me that in interviews he loses out because he calls a spade a spade. “is that so? And how do you know it is a spade. Dude, reality is always multi-faceted. “. I raise my right hand and asked him “what do you think I am doing? From one angle it’s a Hi, from another it’s a slap and from the third it’s a karate chop. What the hell is a spade?” I too was a lot like him. I possibly still am a lot like him. I too loved calling a spade a spade. How does that help? How do you know it’s a spade to start with? You have to see all the angles and at best you can remark that from your angle it looks like a spade and that in all probability it is a spade and assuming it is a spade, this is what I am going to do.

Well that’s enough for now. Simply put – I hope Jispa grows up fast. I hate it and I would love her to be my small baby forever, but I really would love her to grow up fast and strong. I hope to happily take a backseat when she drives forward, relaxed in the knowledge that she has learnt what she has to and the stage is set for her to perform. Clapping quietly is an art form to hone. Possibly her swimming is helping us grow up. Every time I talk to her I realize that her knowledge and understanding is far greater than mine and I am completely mesmerized when she talks about her swimming, I realize that I know so little about something that she can talk long and strong on. I want to be the sponge to absorb all I can. At best I can guide her mentally or ensure she doesn’t stress out too much, but on the whole it’s my role to step back and keep her towel ready, water bottle handy and food warm and shut up and enjoy the competition. Hopefully I may say something intelligent, but on the whole, the shadow belongs to me.

Monday, September 10, 2012

cut the crap


Well… mom came into have lunch yesterday at home. This is the first time she has stepped into my house. Jispa and I were obviously thrilled. I showed mom around the house. And we lunch later. Well, it’s a start. Things go wrong all the time.

In the evening I asked Jispa if things went off well. She was also satisfied. She knows all the history and she reacts like a good level headed adult. I was happy with that. She remarked while going to sleep – “its odd that after six years of staying here, we had to show grand mom the house”. “ya Jispa. Shit happens. Buit what is more important is that you forgive and forget. You move on. Its not right to keep your anger inside. Move on. Shit happens.” And then just for kicks I said “you remember that day when you were angry with me. I had asked you to wear your shoes fast and you thought you couldn’t wear them faster. You were angry at me for a long time. Almost half way to the bus stop. See… you keep your anger so long”. Awwww….. We hugged and she then slept.

I never wanted to tell Jispa about any of the issues I faced with my mom. But mom opened the box and I was forced to clear the air and explain the whole truth. In the end, while I was forced to do it, I guess it was the right thing to have been done. Jispa seems old enough to understand the issue. She has reacted very well and understood it and not made any song and dance about it. She notices the small things. The other day when Jispa and I went to mom’s house and mom asked about Jasmine, Jispa too noticed it.  That’s good. We don’t know but the kids have a tendency to grow up and face issues. They surprise us in ways we think not possible. Alls well… for now at least. Cross fingers.

Just on another note – someone gave Jasmine scissors with five six blades on it. It’s like having six pairs of scissors fused with one handle. The use for this is to cut green leafy vegetables. It seemed logical enough. Why us eth knife when you have these multiple scissors. But that is the classic case of something which looks completely useful and logical but absolutely useless. You wash the green veggies and then use the scissors.. what happens is that the food gets all stuck between the blades and somehow the cutting isn’t smooth. It crushes half of the veggies before cutting them. Dam. So Jispa now uses the same for her craft. And what can she do with it… make a chef hat for one. So she made herself a hat and made us some fresh lime juice. Happy things.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

whats riskier? having a home or not having one?


While I was on my reading spree during the recession, I had read an interesting bit of research. Richard Florida was talking about home ownership in cities. His hypothesis was that home ownership for a city is good but to a point. He says “This is so ironic, places with the highest levels of home ownership have low rates of growth; they tend to be older, lagging cities with older economic structures; they tend to be less innovative; they tend to have lower levels of human capital, of creative, economic activity; lower wages, lower incomes; and the people there have lower levels of well-being… by having a lower level of homeownership, and that’s around 50 or 55 percent,… actually makes them quite fast and flexible… If you lose your job in Detroit or Cleveland, you own your house: you’re stuck. You can’t even move to another part of Detroit or Cleveland for a job,… If you work in New York or Los Angeles or San Francisco and you lose your job, first thing you can do is downshift to a cheaper apartment, and if you need to move to a new region, when your lease ends, you can up and go”

I have put the larger extract below and the link to the complete interview. I found it interesting at the point. It did make sense. Flexibility is the key to business and hence growth. Housing is just one big strong element of getting stuck. My own firm, when I see it I realize this. As we get bigger we start getting inflexible. I have seen my management justify the bureaucracy, the willingness to accept it, unwillingness to tear down old practices, unwilling to take risk, having multiple levels of approvals and the sort. I guess a lot of it is possibly good. We are of course less tolerant of failure. The cost of failure is possibly too high. So it makes sense to take a few sturdier steps than big bold initiatives. But I also wonder isn’t a bigger firm more resilient to risk. More able to absorb the costs of failure and hence best placed to learn from it.

Smaller growing firms would have people with higher risk taking ability. People who just say ‘chuck it, let’s do it and go ahead’. I used to always say, it’s better to ask for forgiveness then to ask for permission. But suddenly larger firms clamp down on all of this. There are too many satraps to break through. Everyone seems to have his own domain which one is encroaching upon. These domains are nebulous and fluid when the organization is geared towards growth and rigid and unaccommodating when the organization is big. Simple things like the laptop brand is also a big issue. I came from one of the smaller divisions (250 employees) of my firm where I wanted a Dell laptop with a very good display. I got it. Here within the same group another division which has 4,000 plus employees, the Dell laptop which I got transferred with, gets undue attention. Here the official brand is Acer and you can’t get anything else. How was I roaming around with a Dell? Oh god man. All in the name of process.

I think process is good. Some things are important but too much process can screw up any initiative. Within my limited understanding and experience, my belief is that even creative can have a process. You must follow process but have the sense to know that the process is path but you are allowed to forge new paths. Logical behavior and thinking is not a barrier for creative. Just because you use the left side of your brain is no excuse for you to not use the right side as well, and vice versa. I think most of us inherently can use both sides well. It’s when we are suddenly rooted for some reason or the other we start exercising one side. The boring regimented predictable side and are impervious to outside thought and action.

I think the rooting of the brain happens when you start having too much at the table at stake. Typically this means a house. See the house by itself seems like an innocuous thing but over here buying a house would mean pledging the next 20 years of your life in equated monthly installments or EMI for short. Once you have EMI’s running, there is no chance that you are going to take risks. You start growing roots around the place. You start making friends, be familiar with the grocer, the milk man, the watchman… you build your life around your commute and then you are finished as a risk taker. Then having the monthly pay check coming in is very very serious business. Why – because the predictable monthly paycheck ties in very well with the infallible predictability of the EMI.

When I bought my first home it was a very fortuitous time. The EMI was at a fixed interest rate and housing prices very low. They were to just start their sky rocketing orbit. My home price has gone up 5 times since I bought it in 2004. At the time I was still ok with the EMI amount. In the slowdown of 2008, I wasn’t worried, I wasn’t scared. I saw my fixed income balance and I saw my liabilities and I slept in peace. Then I went ahead and bought my second larger house. I haven’t ever slept well if I thought about it. Earlier I would be nonchalant in my attitude. I would be able to call a spade a spade, but now I see myself thinking twice. I still try and push the bar but I am careful not to push it carrying my resignation in my pocket. I have become too big in my own life to fail. I have two EMI’s to feed. Hopefully the second house is ready for possession soon enough which would means that I can rent it and it becomes an income stream from an expense stream.

But there are other issues that stop me from taking risk and hence give me limited mobility. Jispa’s school and Matunga gymkhana around which we have revolved our life. Schooling is a huge issue in Mumbai. With a dearth of good schools and at reasonable price points we can’t afford to take risk with schooling. Jispa’s school is impossible to get into. We don’t know how we got through and it was a stroke of good luck. Once when I was offered a job in Europe in the same company I refused, how would I come back and get my daughter reinstated in the same school. It would have been a four to five year stint but how would I come back and fight again for admissions. As a city if we are unable to provide for or encourage good schooling we wouldn’t be able to attract and retain talent. Cities must also fight for talent in similar fashion. Now I understand the value of the Kendriya Vidyalayas that the government set up all over the country giving a uniform education for its entire government staff that would get transferred. Having schooling that is uniform and predictable for the child and the parent is so critical. And of course the gymkhana. Gymkhanas in Mumbai are elitist and restrictive. They open their doors only to members and memberships are limited and are opened only at intervals. Currently the Matunga Gymkhana is open for membership at a steep one million rupees. What the hell. Where does the average person train his daughter or give his kids a decent healthy lifestyle. So thanks to that not only am I rooted as a risk taker, my risk taking has come down to not moving to anywhere further than two kilometers to where I am currently staying. Else the commute and hence the schedule that Jasmine follows everyday will get awry. Wow. Risk aversion has a new meaning altogether.

No wonder I have noticed that even with the same firm, when we Indian go abroad we get highly politicized. We start playing games and we stop taking all kinds of risk. We only start doing stuff that protects our back side. We lick our boss’s derrières and we eschew all bold action. What if things go wrong? We would have to uproot our families from there and come back, in the middle of the school term that too. I saw this in our offices abroad and I saw this in my dad’s stories of when we were in Dubai. The politics is unbearable.

So I kind of agree with Richard Florida. Home ownership kills risk and mobility. We have a deep rooted desire to own our homes and the EMI’s coming with high cost of homes will kill us and our city. Luckily for Mumbai, the saving grace is that we have made renting slightly easier and relatively less risky. The Enforcement of leave and license agreements which are clear and solid has allowed for investors to give their homes on rent. Earlier the laws were completely in favor of the tenant and renting was akin to selling giving rise to a pagdi system in Mumbai. While we were in Dubai, our home was kept closed and locked rather than let out, as we were afraid we would not get repossession of our home when we needed it. No one really benefits from an asset that is underutilized.

I suddenly started thinking about this because of the conversation I had with Jasmine’s cousin. We are all from part of the baniya sect in the Hindu world order. This means we are essentially traders, businessmen by birth. It is our job to trade and to make profit. To be fast and flexible. He said, “us baniya, we should always be ready for mobility. In fact we baniya’s traditionally never bought houses.” I understood what he meant. If a trader is to thrive he must always be mobile, always ready to move to opportunity. Why else would Jasmine’s maternal grand-dad go all the way to Cochin, in an alien culture, to set up business. Her paternal Granddad came from Gujarat to Mumbai to set shop. My grand dad (maternal) went to Burma (Rangoon) to set shop and then came to Mumbai and set up his business. My Paternal Granddad moved from his home in Savarkundla in Gujarat to Mumbai to study and become a Doctor, after which he moved to Gondal in Gujarat to start his dispensary (it’s a business).

And now Jasmine and I are at loathe to even move three kms from our current home. Sheesh. Obviously we are no more baniyas. We have lost risk taking ability. That doesn’t bode well for our family. Or on the contrary it does. Simple predictable lifestyle. The shift from the hunter to the farmer. Possibly parenting is all that in our city. Growing roots. Staying in and withering away. Possibly we are the 55% giving the chance for the rest of the 45% to go out and push the envelope, take risks and be free.

While I was reading on Richard I came across his concept of ‘creative class’. An extract “Florida says that the Creative Class is a class of workers whose job is to create meaningful new forms (2002). It is composed of scientists and engineers, university professors, poets and architects, and also includes "people in design, education, arts, music and entertainment, whose economic function is to create new ideas, new technology and/or creative content” (Florida, 2002, p. 8). The designs of this group are seen as broadly transferable and useful. Another sector of the Creative Class includes positions that are knowledge intensive; these usually require a high degree of formal education (Florida, 2002). Examples of workers in this sector are health professionals and business managers, who are considered part of the sub-group called Creative Professionals. Their primary job is to think and create new approaches to problems. Creativity is becoming more valued in today’s global society. Employers see creativity as a channel for self-expression and job satisfaction in their employees.”

This creative class I see in the suburbs in Mumbai not in town. Town is old money, high rents, old houses and no buzz. Suburbs have buzz, have restaurants opening and closing at will, new ideas and of course the new age of creative people in design, arts and other stuff, pushing the bar.

I end on a story – once I met a friend of mine after a long time. She is in the creative field and her husband was setting up something in IT. they had bought a flat in the suburbs somewhere. While I was talking to her, she told me that the flat was bought on a home loan and then the price of the house had gone up crazy. Then in the middle of it all they thought of selling their home and pocketing cool ten to fifteen lakhs. (ten lakhs = one million). This they would spend a part of it touring Europe (Spain) and then shift to another house on rent. They would save on the EMI every month and pay a lesser rent, as well as have a sustainable life. At first I was appalled. What shit, sell an asset! Then I realised – you are young only once – have fun. And now I realize, selling their home and moving on rent to a smaller, cheaper place, gave them the flexibility to enjoy and follow their dreams. Being unencumbered by the EMI they could start a business and she could work free-lance. They could do something New and Not Conform to boring conformity. They wanted to be the ‘them 45%’ not the ‘us 55%’. I respect that. As a baniya, I genuinely respect that.

Interview on www.bigthink.com with Richard Florida. Full text here: http://www.bigthink.com/ideas/20243

This is so ironic, places with the highest levels of home ownership have low rates of growth; they tend to be older, lagging cities with older economic structures; they tend to be less innovative; they tend to have lower levels of human capital, of creative, economic activity; lower wages, lower incomes; and the people there have lower levels of well-being.

The ones that have lower home ownership, they’re stronger economies, they’re more innovative, they’re higher wages, higher incomes. And I thought about this and it’s not only that those cities are more expensive, right? Los Angeles and New York and San Francisco and Seattle and Boston, they’re not only more expensive, so obviously fewer people can afford houses. Actually by having a lower level of homeownership, and that’s around 50 or 55 percent, where the big, the cities that have a lot have 80. It actually makes them quite fast and flexible. And I find this really interesting. If you lose your job in Detroit or Cleveland, you own your house: you’re stuck. You can’t even move to another part of Detroit or Cleveland for a job, never mind to a place that might have more economic opportunity on the east or west coast. You’re stuck and you’re stuck with that house and you can’t get rid of it and you have to pay for it.

If you work in New York or Los Angeles or San Francisco and you lose your job, first thing you can do is downshift to a cheaper apartment, and if you need to move to a new region, when your lease ends, you can up and go. So I actually believe, the Urban Land Institute says we’re falling in home ownership. We’re going to come down to about, I think, they think, anywhere to about 62 percent, I think we’re going to go a little lower. I think a nice balance is about 55 percent, with the rest of the people renting. I do think we need to reinvent rental housing, though. I think the kind of rental housing we have now, where you go find a landlord on Craig’s List and you get a place and they don’t fix the windows and the dishwasher breaks and you’re doing it; that’s crazy. I think with all the condos that are vacant, in fact, we’re even seeing this in Miami. And I see this when I go to Miami, it’s actually my cycling route. I cycle down through the city and through the City of Miami, into Key Biscayne. You see all the condo towers that went bankrupt, that were distress sales, now being turned to rental. And what’s interesting is you’re renting from a real rental agency, the housing is nice and high quality, but it’s very affordable, lots of people are streaming back into downtown, empty nesters, young people, people with families, more street-level activity.

I even imagine something more than that, where you could sign up with Acme Rental Company, or XYZ Rental Company, and if your job changes in New York, or San Francisco, Toronto where I live, and you want to be closer to where you work, you can switch apartments. Or if you transfer to the West Coast or the Midwest or wherever it is, San Francisco, Chicago, you can basically be part of that rental company’s units there. Some way, and I think with the excess inventory—according to one analysis, we now in the United States have 8 years, 103 months, of excess housing inventory; well, somebody’s got to do something with that. If companies over the course of the reset in an entrepreneurial fashion begin to roll that up, begin to provide mass rental housing, if you will, and what gives me—I talk to a lot of developers and I speak to developers' forums, I was just at the Urban Land Institute: multi-family housing is one place people are actually profitable in.
 



And just to spice up things a bit, here is a video I showed to one kid in office today. She went to Vashi station for the first time in her life and was impressed by it. When it was first constructed and Vashi was still a growing far flung suburb of Mumbai, the station won a lot of rave reviews. So much so that this movie song was also shot on location in the station. The actress is actually in the middle of eh song gyrating on the tracks. Development is always Sexy.



Friday, May 07, 2010

home alone

I am such a family man. Yesterday I was to reach home and fend for myself. My wife and kid were at a party where we men weren’t invited. Some kids birthday. So Jasmine offered to cook me dinner. I refused. According to her I just need an excuse to eat out but the truth is that I hate to eat alone. I went to the theatre complex next to home and browsed around Crossword for a good book and ordered a noodle dish at Zenzibu. But I was so depressed and lost, all alone.
I hate it. Even while travelling on work, at the hotels, in the evening it is so boring and alone. Eating dinner alone is a punishment for me. I try and delay it as far as possible. Try and order something in the room itself and eat silently, watching TV. Staying at the five stars adds to the solitude. They are in such sterile environments and there is no one at eth front office that you can really chat up with. In the good old days at Balsara, I had a 30 day travel plan. So I ended up going to the same places over and over again. Those were the really cheap sales hotels. How cheap? The most expensive room was 280 bucks a night and the cheapest was at 80 bucks a night. No I did not miss a zero there. And the most expensive room I ever stayed in, ever. 15,000 a night at Delhi Taj. But hold on, I think the Geneva room I stayed in was even more expensive. But now I am diagressing. What was the point I was making?
Yup, the cheap hotels in Blasara. They were pretty nice places. You sometimes catch TV in the hotel lobby. You meet other sales guys from other companies. There is some action happening. People talking. The owner talking and giving some gyan. Its good fun. Those days in the evening there was a line for people wanting to talk at the STD booth. That was fun. Waiting for 20 minutes to talk for 10.
The five stars have none of this camaraderie. I remember my days at my favourite hotel at Baroda, Junagadh, Ahmedabad. Also these hotels were bang in the heart of the city and I loved going out for a walk around. Getting outside the 5 stars is a walk by itself. The cheap hotels are merely a building that adds to the commotion on the street.
Then also I hated to be alone and I hated having dinner alone. Yesterday somehow I remembered those days. The only small difference was that 12 years back I also had to see my budget and figure what / where to eat. Now I don’t really need to look at the right hand side of the menu anymore.
Luckily half way through my chow mein, jasmine came in and I felt at ease. I think it’s easier to spend the day all alone at home but in the evenings, I so hate it. I can empathise with Jasmine when I am on a travel plan and she has to be home alone. or even when I am working till late. But at least now she has Jispa with her. All alone… I can’t handle it.
Earlier days when we stayed with mom, Jasmine used to go to her mom’s home to stay for a few days in a year. I used to find it impossible to sleep early alone. I would watch TV till my eyes closed and then hit the bed. The house just does not feel nice without people in it. I hate it and hence this time I refused to go home in the evening to get an empty house. Sometimes I feel I am such a baby.