Dream Swim

50 mtr backstroke gold, followed by 100 and 200 mtr silvers at the state meet and hence winning the right to represent Maharashtra as a campion at the Nationals; while being at the youngest in the age group spanning three years. It some real proud achievement for Jispa and for us as her parents.

Being a swim parent is a full time job and even more so for Jasmine. Take them to the pool, to the doctor, to the physio, get them food, sleep everything. It’s a crazy schedule that needs to be managed to the tee. As a father, I have to pull my weight, by getting up in the morning and taking her to the pool and then on weekends helping around with Jasmine at the swim events. And especially removing time for Jispa if she needs help in her studies. The mother is a crazy full time job with the menu and everything else. Today as I stand, I can’t believe how it can be done without Jasmine being at home full time. So, when a colleague was talking about how he wants his daughter to do well in sports, I tried to explain the enormity of the whole thing to him. It’s not easy to bring up a sports kid in Mumbai for now.

Which got me thinking. If in the future we see more and more, the rise of the double income household and the working mother and as a consequence will we have the breakdown of this support system that gives rise to children who can perform at a higher level? I had this thought for exactly two seconds. TWO FREAKING SECONDS. That’s it. I can’t not have these stupid thoughts. There is no choice to that. But what is in my control is how I react back to my own thoughts. Any stupid conservative guy will bemoan the death of the family and that the future of children would be lost and hence they would put stupid rigid controls in place. Get the mother to stay at home. Ensure that the greatness of the family tradition is maintained by ensuring status quo. In exactly two seconds (I am so proud of myself) I laughed. Of course not. There is no way that argument holds. At the first level itself, no one should tell the parent on how to raise their children (unless there is some serious abuse). But then, let’s keep that argument aside. At first, the argument looks tenable right now as I see it. Yes. You require a stay at home mother to really help in bringing up a child that aspires to do well in sports as well as studies. The ecosystem outside does not really help foster all round development without the active total involvement of one full time parent. But then saying no to the choice of the mother to work and be productive and to do what she wants is also not there. A working woman can add so much productivity to the nation’s workplace. What will happen is that women WILL join the work force, they will have children and they will have aspirations of them. They will want them to succeed and do more. At this time, they will be ready to spend more for them as they earn much more as a family. At that time, the ecosystem will automatically develop to allow for all the support required. This is the classic case of demand finding supply for itself over a period of time. In the short run, there will turmoil and pain but slowly more and more will be trained in the skills that are in demand and the market will emerge.

This is the simple belief in the markets being able to best allocate its resources by itself to things that bets suit it. Hence in fact we must allow all men and women equally to make their choices and not choose for them. The collective power of the market has to be believed in. This will free people to make their choices and push towards what they want.

Sometimes the government must step in if the private players fail to understand the power of a public good. Things that will help the society at large but is largely unnoticed or is commercially unviable. But then that’s it. The society must learn never to say no and never to put artificial barriers to choice. A barrier to choice in many ways a barrier to progress and is something that we must understand as a society.

Coming back to raising a kid, and that too a sports kid, is a very tough thing to do. You have to focus on sports but at the same time you have to keep an eye on studies. Nutrition is another big thing as well. Now as Jispa grows and turns 15 this year. She will have to learn to pull her own weight at home. I have been after her to now pull some. So far I think both Jasmine and me have protected her from the drudgeries of household work. We never made her party to the work to be done around home. As a kids growing up, I have washed vessels when the maid was not there. Every evening the servant would wash the vessels and leave them to dry. As kids, we had turns to dry every vessel and keep them in place in the evening. We had to make our own beds and also had turns to wipe the table. We had to clean the grains, peel fruit and everything else around the house. It wasn’t tough at all but it was boring and no fun. Jasmine and I have tried not to pass it on to Jispa. We have done the work ourselves. We hardly give Jispa any work compared to the stuff we did as kids. And it’s not just that we have an army of servants who do it. It just that we realise that as a kid most of this is boring. Also to be fair, Jispa with her swimming schedule and her studies never had the time to do much more. But now her exams are over and her vacations are on. She has plenty of time and she must now learn to contribute. I give her the table to clean, I ask her to help me while I help Jasmine in the kitchen etc. I think she needs to learn some basic life skills and house work. Jasmine’s view on this is similar and she has smaller asks. All she needs is for Jispa to finish her own work. Pick up her things, eat her foods, pack her own bags, keep away her stuff etc. Just do your own work and that itself is good enough. Jispa is a fine kid though. She understands but she can get exasperating when she has momentarily lapses of madness.

It’s been an awesome achievement on her part. To be a state level gold medalist and to manage studies and to read and everything else. I think we as parents are in danger of being heavy pushy mad parents. We think we are not. We try not to be. We try and achieve what we can and we try and push where we think its absolutely necessary but we are as always, ever in danger of breaching the tipping point.

But hell, let’s not take away from some real awesome glory that our young one has achieved. It’s a bloody gold at the State meet to qualify for the nationals. A bloody freaking gold. That’s something. It’s one the proudest moment for us as swim parents and as parents in general. Jispa is not a natural swimmer, she has worked hard to reach here and done tons of rigorous practice. Jasmine has devoted the last seven years towards this. It’s a big one. This is something that I say with pride and I look up to. It’s an amazing achievement. I am going to cherish this one for a long time to come. State level gold medalist. Wow.

While on achievement, I read an interesting poem that talks about the achievement and how over a period of time, it probably counts for nothing. Greatness too turns to dust in long run. Hah.

Jispa – you did well. It is one of the proudest moments of my life. I guess by that logic I mustn’t have lived too much, but in your life, I lead mine. And in the end just remember the poem of Ozymandias. Look him up. It’s a very interesting story.

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land, 

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone 

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, 

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, 

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, 

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read 

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, 

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; 

And on the pedestal, these words appear: 

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! 

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay 

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare 

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

I am the bridge builder

I was explaining to someone that all my life I have always been the youngest one. The youngest son of the youngest son. From my mother’s side too I was the youngest son with only two female cousins younger than me. Being the youngest one should have been a natural to me, except that I didn’t ever do well at it. I think I was designed to be the eldest. I like to teach, to learn, to observe and to share. I like to protect and to have fun, I like to dominate yet cede. I am not designed to be the youngest but I learnt over a period of time to be one.

Now that I am 41, I am in many ways an elder. In this start up, I am the eldest in the office. The senior who must lead and manage the young. He who must nurture the young and initiate them into the ways of life. Ok – now that got way too dramatic. But as the years have piled on, I have moved to apposition of being the elder and I think I probably do a better job of being the elder than being the younger. Of being the teacher than at being the student.

Being the youngest helped me become a better elder. All I did was look very deeply at people who were older to me and see how they behaved. How they treated their younger ones, and more importantly how they did not treat their younger ones. This formed the basis of how I should treat others. In way that I would have expected to have been treated. That today is how I am what I am, as a boss, as a father, as a friend and as a teacher. You don’t always need role models to shape your behavior. You can do it just as well with the absence of role models. You simply ask yourself what you would have liked and you then listen to your own voice very clearly. That’s that simple.

Last week we were on vacation. I was very keen to have a camping experience with Jispa and Jasmine. Just about a month before the vacation, both of them pulled out. It was way too expensive they said and that they weren’t so keen. Oh Damn it. They broke my heart. I always wanted to go camping with family. Sleeping in the tents, walking all day, moving in the mountains, the bitter cold, the warm sleeping bags, the really silly places to go to the loo, everything. Discomfort is an important part of process. Only when you put men through real discomfort you realize what you are made of. And as a group of people, when you face hardship together, it binds you, it releases you. Camping together is one way to get to the same. Of course this was a luxury camp. We would have paid around 10k per night all-inclusive (including transport) for this experience. But at the last my family developed chicken feet. So we moved our vacation to Rishikesh where we stayed at a home stay, roamed the streets of Rishikesh and sipped on honey ginger lemon tea while having freshly baked butter biscuits. Some discomfort.

After which we went to Hathipaon where my sis runs a lovely small home stay.

It was a fun vacation, but it was marginally ruined or heightened depending on your perspective by the fact that I had an exam to give in the middle of it. This was an Insurance exam for which I had to leave the vacation mid-way and run to Delhi and back. The pressure was tremendous and I had to really learn the innards of the insurance business before I could have passed. The pressure was two-fold. On the business there was definitely some pressure as we needed a senior guy to pass the exam and be the principal officer for the firm and then as the elder in the office, I couldn’t have failed. It was too much of a loss of face. I put dramatic pressure on myself and pushed myself to study. I studied three books, marked a lot on them, read them again and again, and was generally prepared for what’s going to come. In the end of the multiple choice question paper, I scored 65 of 80 marks. 40 was passing. Wow – I had done it with flying colors. Serious respect. When you grow old, you lose something – something very raw, you lose your sense of fun, innocence and gay abandon. You lose the ability to chance a few things. You push yourself and your system to what you think is the most important thing and achieve it. This part is no fun. I have never studied this way as I studied for this exam. On the trip, I studied in the plane, on the train, in the hotel, on the bed and one full day in Rishikesh on the table studying for my exam. After the paper, I had a celebratory lunch in Delhi. I had my favorite Delhi lunch of chole and dal with naan at the road side thella (stall). That was yum. So much yum, that I took Jasmine and Jispa there when we were in Delhi switching trains. When in Delhi – do the Delhi!

So when we were back, my sis asked me for feedback. I knew that was coming and I had discussed a lot with Jispa and Jasmine about the place. We seemed to have cracked the travel thing. We go for cheaper home stay options at distinct places that seem to have captured the heart and soul of the place. We know the service and we know the way the thing works now. We know how to look at the reviews and how to manage and plan the trip. So far, it has hardly let us down. Trip Advisor has been so helpful in all of this. My nephew was wondering why would anyone put up a review on trip advisor. A rational human wouldn’t want to waste his time once he was already there. What could he possibly get. I told him two things – from a selfless perspective – it really helped me and hence it is my job to help others. From a selfish perspective – the more reviews I give the better the site gets and that leads to a positive cycle where hotels and home stays know that if they screw up you get bad reviews. This was the whole ecosystem is forced to improve if they have to thrive. My review about Rishikesh will in some way help my travels in Pondicherry, because of the general uplift in service standards.

I am reminded of this poem about which I think I have blogged before.

The Bridge Builder

- Will Allen Dromgoole

An old man going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again will pass this way;
You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him."

This poem was especially significant for me for in the 6^th standard, I tried to take part in the poetry recital competition in school. There was no one to help at home but I knew I was good to take part in the competition. I told my teacher that I was interested and she gave me this poem. By the time the trials came in, I was hopelessly underprepared and I was not selected. What a total loss it was. I laughed at the end. There none but me to crown myself!

Recently I understood the bride builder and its metaphorical significance. I am in many ways a Bridge Builder. Yes, good friend, I am building this bridge for him.

So yesterday I went over to my sister’s house and discussed what all you can do to improve the service. Small things that cost very little but can make a dramatic impact on your stay experience. In the end, today she puts on the whatsapp group something akin to ‘when did you get so smart?’. Oh well. Now the fun starts. The dichotomy of being an elder elsewhere nad being the young one at home. Sometimes I wonder how I manage it in my brain and in my behavior. I wonder.

one way street

It’s a vortex that you are going to be sucked under. Power and politics is normally a one way street. You just can get out. The only way is to constantly try and push yourself up.  Entering is not necessarily a bad thing.  In fact we need to enter and make a change if we want to see the change. There is no point sitting on the sidelines and waiting for things to move in the right direction. Let’s take the example of the building society. A lot of stupid things happen, but you can’t really crib about it as when it comes for elections and meetings, you just don’t have the time or are willing to make time for it. Plus who really wants the additional responsibility that you take on for no real consideration, especially if you are a honest man.

At the Gymkhana I had no choice. Too many idiots were harassing the swimmers who were training. Change the timing, call them earlier (earlier than 5.45 am), restrict the batches, change the  coach. It was time to step up. And now I am a part of the committee and being a part of the change I want to see. A lot has improved. Water testing, monitoring the chemicals, life guard duty etc. Now, while we are the part of the swimming committee we face issues with the general committee and in the next elections we see no option but get involved at that level. I don’t want to do that. But the risk of idiots coming on top must be mitigated.

Power is one way street. Now that things are working fine, you want them to work fine. You want good things to continue. I think what motivates everybody is the fact that when you are in power three people  look at you greet you. The power you have over people down the line is really not that easy to let go of. It definitely corrupts. You will get and take some additional privileges and that are difficult to let go of. I try my best to ensure that none of this goes into my head.

In office I see more eyes on me than ever. The older I got the more adulation I got. Balls to it. It is a clear case of power shining through the backside. But how do I get it off from my head. How can I refuse it. I sit out of my cabin for a lot of the time. I can keep the door open, I can do a lot but the fact is that I can do all that because I have it. I can sit outside the cabin because I have the cabin. If I did not have the cabin to start with, what would I have sat out of?

Many years ago I worked at a construction company called Hiranandani. I was part of the upcoming projects of the daughter of the patriarch. I had got the manager’s cubicle. As the core team relating to sales increased I was asked to vacate and move into the smaller worker cubicle. I remember not liking it at all. I made a brave face but it hurt. At that time I vowed never to be bothered by the size of the cube or the status associated with it. Now that I have one, what do I do about it? I can’t get used to not having one when I have one.  

All this is a one way street. I am reminded of the movie Naam. Here the villain Paresh Rawal tempts a crestfallen Sanjay Dutt into the world of drugs and crime. He explains to him – this is a one way street. You can come in but you can’t get out.

I forget where the street comes in but here is one part where the temptation begins and Paresh Rawal brilliants explains – here you can get everything you want but …an exit. And then he laughs. Check it out. It’s in the first two three minutes itself

In this part go to around 12 minutes – he again explains that this is a one way street…

And here is the part where our hero gives it back to the villain when he shows the one way street back to the boss. Go to the 8 minute mark.

On that morose note…

It’s not that bad. I think the challenge is to remain level headed and calm when you have tail wind. You realize that it’s the tail wind that causing the speed. There is no real harm in enjoying it too much. You just need to get a reality check from time to time. You keep reminding yourself of the tail wind and somehow try and step aside on the one way street. To keep the parable running – the one way street doesn't allow a U turn but it surely allows you to step on one side and park. Wait quietly and try not to reach anywhere faster than others. Who says it’s important to go to the other side or lead. Stay in there. Knowing the flow of the street is also a valuable experience that you pass on to other travelers.

On the last line – a poem got triggered in my mind. It’s not exactly in context but I like this one. There is a story behind it – but that is for another day

The Bridge Builder

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,
"You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again will pass this way;
You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him."

the struggle to reach the fleeting buddha

I still find it queer (pun unintended) that a lot of us educated people are also homophobic. My favorite rejoinder is when people talk about how in today’s generation, we will have to accept whatever cast or creed the person who our kids choose as their life partners. I correct them to ‘yes, also whatever the sex of their partner is’. Invariably I get a slight pause. The person looks at me, catches my eye for a few seconds and tries to ascertain if I was cracking a joke or something. Nopes – no response. It’s obviously not cool to be a homophobic. So in the face of a high moral ground taken, the other guy invariably is silent. Yes I have a daughter and yes I am ok to the choice of her partner. Surely I will freak out if she chooses a druggie or someone I consider completely dumb. Also it’s another story that I am likely to find anyone who has an IQ slightly lower than Einstein as dumb especially if that person is dating my daughter. But definitely the sex bit is out of the equation.

So if it’s a senior person I am talking to – I always learnt to give that person an exit hatch. I allow that person to wiggle out of a potential wedge. So this time I allowed for – it will take one more generation for us to accept same sex marriage as it will take this generation to accept inter cast marriage. Hehe.

Allowing an exit hatch in a conversation is something I have learnt over a period of time. Especially when you have the benefit of strong insight or knowledge behind you or simply you have a strong enough counter opinion.  Life is too short to fight over such small issues such as a humble opinion. So many times I actively try getting an outlet. So I explain how the other point of view is valid and likely to be the right one or search for an excuse to honorably exit. Too many wars have been fought over petty ego issues.

There was one other incident somewhere related to this issue. I was being wooed for a job by a senior person recently. I declined but was happy to recommend a friend. The friend then told me that while having a conversation with the senior guy, the senior guy referred to me as ‘The Buddha’. To my mind there is no better compliment than that. Especially considering the fact that I have consciously worked on this. I laughed and told the friend that if you were to tell my mom something like this then my mom would burst out laughing. Jaimit a Buddha? HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH. I told my wife about the incident and guess what – she almost spat out her coffee and started laughing. ‘you a Buddha?’ HAHAHAHAHAHA. Sure. That’s the drift. Dam you guys!

Being a Buddha doesn’t come easily. You need economy of motion and expression and mental thought. The ability to leave things there while simultaneously trying to change them. That did not make sense did it – then it is a buddha’ism. But seriously that word struck me serious. I managed to, in some small tiny way, achieve a balance in my persona and achieved for however a fleeting moment – the concept of the Buddha. It felt really really nice. A lot of that comes in meetings when you don’t fight on ego and when you allow the honorable exit in meetings and discussion and then when you take people’s opinion and try and forge a consensus. And people like me – die a thousand deaths in the process. It is unnatural and difficult. But I am still gloating about the fact that someone referred to me as the Buddha. However fleeting a moment – you live in it for eternity… a ha that’s another one that didn’t make any sense… or did it.

And just a verse from William Blake. I recently read it and hence the show off

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.