Its yours.

After a decade of writing this blog, I knew it would have some amazing value. Value in terms of a legacy that one can pass on. My thoughts my experiences, my growing up and Jispa’s growing up. The blog helped me pass through some real tough times, especially when the stock markets tanked and there was no work in office. That was such a productive period for me and this blog. The blog was just a simple way of recording what I feel but it ended up being much more than that. It helped me shape myself and my feelings.

When you write something down, and that something concerns your thoughts and actions, you tend to be a bit more circumspect about it. You think through a little more, knowing that this will be there for posterity and that this is a legacy you are leaving behind. It made me think a little more about my thoughts, helped me research a bit more about what I wanted to write about, and helped me argue both sides of a coin. It helped me see balance in the world. Also when I kept searching for things to write about I would think a little harder about what all I could write about. This helped me see the world in a different light as well. It probably made me more insightful and see greater meaning and purpose in a lot more things than that I would have in the normal course of my life. Teaching and blogging have helped shape more thoughts about myself and my life than anything else in the world. Interacting with world while teaching helped me clarify so many concepts and blogging is interacting with myself. I tell myself so many things while writing. Of course there is a disclaimer to this – this blog is not a diary. It’s a blog that I have written to pass on to Jispa, hence it will always suffer from being a parent. I know Jispa will read it and hence it will be a version of my life that I wouldn’t mind Jispa reading it. Can I be 100% truthful on this blog? This blog is 100% true but does it contain the whole truth and all the truth in the world that I see? No. It won’t. But that doesn’t take anything away from this body of writing.

It has helped chronicle a lot of my life while I have grown as a professional, as a thinker and as a parent. And reflect on it in the process. It worth its weight in gold. I knew I had to give Jispa this blog someday. It seems that one day I had promised Jispa that when she turns 15 she would get this blog to read. She has stuck to it. Obviously it meant something to her. It is an amazing thing. I wish I had something like this to read. Jispa’s 15^th birthday is coming up in a couple of days. Wow. I remember holding her in my arms the day she was born and singing her song to her. I remember slapping her hard when she kicked me. I remember holding her tight and putting her to sleep. I remember trying to help her solve her nightmares so that she gets her sleep. I remember teaching her about everything I know and I remember having lots of conversations with her.

Now she is 15. She tells me ‘shut up’ when I make fun of her. She whacks me on the head and bites me on my shoulder. We have this pact where I can’t refuse her biting me and she can’t refuse me kissing her on the nose. What a childhood, so different from mine. We wanted it that way for her.

And I have to keep up the promise and give her this blog as she turns 15. Sigh… I don’t want to. I want to tell her that she can get it when she is 18, but I think she is adamant and more than that, I think she is ready for it. I think a lot of the topics that I have written about are nuanced and have subtleties that may be difficult for a 15 year to completely fathom. But it’s still ok and she will get most of it. She can keep going back to the blog again and again when she is older. She may meaning in it that was previously lost to her. I intended this more like a random fun thing or a conversation that she can refer to whenever she wants to talk to someone, search for meaning, understand life or have fun or increase general knowledge. It’s a random tome on everything I found interesting or noteworthy to pass on.

So yes, Jispa many times I will address you in the first person as well. Even when I am not, the text was always written assuming that you are audience. This has been a labor of my love for you. I really don’t know how I will react to this once you start reading it. I hope I don’t stop writing it. Not likely.

I hope you find it interesting and I hope you will learn a lot from it. Nothing that I say here should be considered the actual truth. It is only the truth as I understood it at that phase of my life. You will find contradictions as I grow old or possibly my you will see my beliefs strengthening on certain topics. You will find lots of typos. That I guarantee. I am a lazy writer. I hate checking what I write. At best I have written all these blogs in a word document so most of the obvious spelling errors are taken care of, but some glaring grammar errors will be there. I have not read even one of my posts once I have written it. They are written and simply published. Read them and if you find anything interesting, talk to me about it. That would be fun. I don’t know if I would remember all of them or any particular one of them. In fact I forget what wrote even two days ago. Some posts I remember being proud of and some were just written to start the conversation flowing. Not all are of equal quality. Some posts have been written over a few days with breaks thanks to interruptions in office. Some interrupted by lack of thoughts. Those tend to be a little … tired, I think. You won’t enjoy them, they don’t hold any narrative structure and sometimes feel like rants. Forgive them for the greater good of the entire list of blog posts.

The heading of this blog is opposites must reconcile. I learnt this term from Dharen when he talks about memorable ideas coming from seemingly opposites coming together. I found this very endearing. Things seem like opposites and things seem like they must not coexist but they often do. When opposites reconcile and live well with each other then they become memorable, endearing and enduring. A simple example is that swimmers, especially national award winners aren’t supposed to be good at studies. But you are. You have brawn and brains and that combination is not generally seen and it’s definitely not easily managed. But you have managed to reconcile within your petite self these opposites. You of all people know how difficult it was for you to do this. The sacrifices you have made have been immense. These add to your aura and your personality. This reconciliation of opposites make you – you. I am a senior person in office and I dress in jeans, or I talk intelligent stuff but I ask the most basic of questions in meetings. This is a reconciliation of opposites in me and makes my personality to some extent memorable. Interesting people are always able to balance and reconcile the opposites. It seems natural to them. It doesn’t make sense or looks incredulous to others but to them, it a natural extension of who they are. In many ways this is the yin and yan, or the Natraj holding creation and destruction in one image and looking beautiful and iconic.

Its bitter sweet, now that Jispa is 15, and that she is insisting that I give her the blog as a gift, I don’t know quite how to feel. I am happy that I am giving the blog to the rightful reader to read but at the same time my kid has grown up. Damn it.

So happy birthday Jips… it’s been a crazy 15 years and a little more if you include the time from inception to birth. There have been many ups and downs in our relationship and I have written more about the ups than downs but in the end tats what I remember more and that what matters. I am sure you too will agree. From 15 onwards you are more an adult than a kid and you are ready to take on the world (if we do remove more protection around you) and if you do remember the first 15 years are more fun than anything else, then I guess we are good.

Have fun, happy reading. Its yours!

whats love got to do!

Ah, just past the valentine day. When I was in college Valentine day became a significant day in my life. My wife first kissed me on Valentine day :) in Eros theatre.

Eros itself had an important place in my life in college. Eros along with Sterling, Regal and to a lesser extent – New Excelsior. When I was in college we did not have the coffee shops and the places where people just went to hang out and do nothing. I so wish they were there when Jasmine and I were having our courtship days. So, young couples like us had no option really but to go for a movie. Movies theaters were nice dark places, where you could enjoy with friends as well and they were pretty cheap. In ’91 the price of a ticket at Sterling, I remember was around 8 bucks for stalls and around 10 for balcony and 15/16 for dress circle. To put it in perspective a croissant at ‘Croissants etc’ – the cake shop we used to go to – was at around 10 buks. Movies were cheap and cute places for couples to go and spend time with each other. 3 full hours of togetherness.

Valentine days were significant in our lives then. The college would come alive with love and hearts and red everywhere. Couple would revel in the romance that was in the air and guys would muster up courage to propose on this day. The card and gift shop called “Archies”, names after the archetype the young kids aspired for, would do crazy business as young ones would spend hours searching for greeting cards or gifts for their beaus. Falling in love was a slightly expensive affair.

We were possibly the first generation that started celebrating it with all gusto and pomp. Every beggar and street vendor would sell truckloads of long stem roses wrapped in white cellophane. So many of the roses and cards would land in the gutter and in the dustbin. 80% of these were because the girls rejected them and 20% of these because the girls couldn’t take them home. Valentine’s day was frowned upon as not being a part of our culture and heritage. Protests and scores of articles would be written for and against it. In the end, I guess the politicos had to bow down to the general mood of the people and silence their voices. Love cannot be stopped. It cannot be directed and slowly it will break all taboos and restrictions we place on it. I love how it is happening everywhere.

Recently we went for an engagement of Jasmine’s nephew. As we were entering the hall, I realized that the lady he was getting married to didn’t sound like a gujju name. Slowly my senses acted up, the crowd at the venue too looked different. Some kids didn’t look like kutchis and I overheard some Marathi – possibly friends. A few more minutes into the function and I knew something was different. Then when the boy’s brother came to me and we chatted up, I realized. Love marriage. Ah. The girl is Maharastrian and they met doing some professional courses. There was opposition at home from the mother of the groom but everybody worked on her and convinced her. Hah!

It was nice to see these barriers falling. At my time, the first barrier to fall was the simple issue of choice of bride. I was lucky as Jasmine and me are both Jains and some similar sub caste. Just a small difference of being gujju and kutchi. But large similarities existed. But it was a love marriage nevertheless and it broke some new ground in the family for the first time. Now inter caste marriage is happening and that is breaking another ceiling. The auntie I guess will soon realise that while she keeps her family in control and ensures a happily knit environment, love knows no barriers. The bride and the groom were looking so cute together and happy together, quietly knowing that they smashed one large barrier. Almost like – one large breakthrough for them, one small breakthrough for the rest to follow.

All the talk about integration of communities and a secular society will only bear fruit if we integrate in a real way if we allow our children to marry of their choice across barriers of caste, creed, ethnicity, age and sex. To have a really integrated society and culture you have to set people free. Simply standing up for the national anthem when it’s played in theaters and mouth it loud will lead to nothing. I would hazard that it will only create more exclusion and a behavior of race superiority. It will be ingrained towards more right wing behavior and nation will only fragment not build. Allow the tribes to intermingle for the best possible genepool distribution and competition. Allow people to move freely across cities for work and employment and from that will new ideas emerge.

Ah! But the power of unbounded love will force more power to kneel before it. Not like in the movies, where one love forces power, it will be a collective effort of love across generations. I am happy I put my one stone in the pot for the level to rise. I am happy that kids after me, will put in their stones as well. Slowly the water will overflow.

Bonus video – in the name of love!

Another random video. This is more for the lyrics that contained these words that I read somewhere

How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

But still and the full lyrics are below

(read till end – There is a post script)

Lyrics

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

In - five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died

It's time now - to sing out
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love

Soloist number one
Measure, measure your life in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Also on another note - I was talking to a young kid on how Valentine’s day is not so significant in our life now that we are all married and older and we don’t really gift each other much. Also add to that, that we both are … cynical? What’s a better word for it? Yes – skeptical. We just are practical about this. Yes we did wish each other but that was more for fun than anything else. Just playing out loud the ridiculousness of the ritual. Hehehe.

odd man stands out

So how were the Nationals for Jispa. Haha.. I am sure she will never ever forget her first nationals. I am sure, we will never ever forget them as well.

The heats were scheduled for the morning and top 8 swim for the medals in the evening. I caught the 6 am flight just to try and be there on time. In spite of the Uber driver antics, I did manage to reach on time. As I came in I sought out Jispa and wanted to say hi to her. She did look out of sorts and a bit tense. She didn’t respond well to me talking and wasn’t interested in making any conversation. I decided not to interfere and let her be.

It was time for her to go for her swim. In the nationals, they call out and arrange the swimmers in batches of 8 at the side. Then one batch at a time they are lead to the starting blocks where they have the time to sit down and remove their track suits and be ready for the swim. It’s very professionally done with a lot of time given to the swimmers.

The lanes were called out and the swimmers stood on the edge. With the long whistle, they jumped into the pool to take their positions for the start of the back stroke 50 meter race.  Since the races are decided by touch pads, the start is a buzzer that the official presses. He says , on your mark, set and presses the buzzer. On Jispa’s most important race till now, I watched with baited breath as the official called out – ONE YOUR MARK… I think my heart beat faster as she was about to take off. GET SET. And off she goes… and then the official rings the buzzer; the rest then take off. Yup you heard that right. ON YOUR MARK. GET SET… Jispa takes off… and then the official rings the Buzzer. We are standing with all the parents from the Mumbai and a collective gasp is let off from our side. I am next to another swim father and we both hit our hands on our heads. Dam shit. Jispa has had a false start. In swimming it’s called a flick start. She flicked the start. By a huge perceptible second. She is bound to be disqualified.

Wow. A whole year of training and hard work and preparation and she flicks a start for the first time in her life. Never in her trainings, never in practice races, never in relays, Never.

I look away and look my friend beside me - she flicked the start! We tell each other. That’s it. We are done. Well well, no point seeing the race. I look back to see her finish. In the end she did swim a bad race in any case with timings worse than what she would have given. I smile. That’s the end to all this… the end to this year. The end. Now enjoy the rest of your holiday.

There is some silence in the camp.

When Jispa comes back to us after the race, I am smiling and holding the towel in both hands outstretched. She is smiling and she asks, “it was a flick start, right? Did I flick start”. Smiling, I answer her in the affirmative. I then wrap the towel around her and laugh while hugging her. “You flicked. Hahahahahaha. And it wasn’t like a small flick, it was the most horrible flick I have seen ever in my life. It was outrageous. Hahahaha” We both laugh. Jasmine showed her the video and she did not know where to look after that. She was laughing at herself.

I then told her its ok, this one was so bad that it was good. You didn’t do anything, I think were just too nervous and you just did something unnatural. Its ok. We made a few jokes about it and left it at that.

Jispa is a fair kid. She doesn’t cheat. She is not a perennial flick starter like some of the other swimmers. I think the nerves got to her. It happens to the best of us. First time nationals can do that to you.

There are few races that I remember of Jispa. The crazy ones being the ones she swam the relay and chased down the competition in the school race, to finish first by a hairs breath! She was fast and it was an amazing race.  This was one on the other extreme. The flick start just keeps playing in my head, again and again.

Well, memories. You remember the good ones and you remember the bad ones. Normal things are so forgetful. You have to have an odd experience for the experience to be memorable. When you grow old, you will remember these odd ones, not the boring life ones.

In many ways she probably gave me the most memorable swim race of my life, so far.

--

random other conversation

“kid in your class use bad words?”

“ya”

“bad words like F and all that”

“ya”

“do you give bad words?”

“no”

“why”

“I don’t know”

“you know its ok to give to bad words”

“ya”

“you know that I don’t mind if you use bad words”

“ya”

“you know that I use bad words in office and elsewhere”

“ya”

“how do you know”

“I have heard you give”

“when?”

“I don’t know, at times”

“ok. But you can give if you want to. I am ok… right?”

“right”

Oh…The conversations I live for…