its not you, its them

We came back last week from a vacation. This one was in London and was amongst the longest I have ever had. A full 17 days away from office. That’s not a normal holiday. In fact the last time I took so long was when we went to Leh. That was more than 10 years ago. This time the occasion came in the form of a friend of mine from London. In fact she was not actually a friend to start with. Just a colleague who I got along with, very well. Swati.

Swati was one star employee with our London office. She would be very demanding and my team would hate to service her. She would want things now. And she would want a lot of articles written by me. The fund manager would invariably write some rubbish for her to circulate to the clients and then she would insist that I clean it and write something better. And invariably I would do it. The way I saw it, she was the star sales person in the team. She would be the one actually doing work and it would be my duty to at least support her. The others would irritate for no reason and she would have a genuine reason to push the bar. I gladly did so always. She would call on some issues and I would solve it. Simple. No special favours. Simple work.

From then on we became slightly better friends and one day I realized (through a mail or chat or something) that she was a reader of my blog. For some reason this blog gave her something to chew on, some meaning from time to time. That was cool by me. I am not writing all the time for some deeper meaning. And when someone takes a meaning from it, that’s nice. It makes me feel nice that she read it regularly and that it made sense. That would mean that Jispa would take some sense from it when she grew up as well. That’s a nice feeling.

So we just kept in touch and she would catch up with me when would come to India. The last time she came she wanted to see Haji Ali and offer prayers. I was the happy guide. I love doing this guide thing. If there is anything that I like as much as teaching it is being a guide. Not that I know too much, but I’d like to show the world what I know. And at that time she genuinely offered to host us in London. I didn’t think too much of the offer, but then when the circumstances turned benign early this year, I mailed her. She responded and there – we just came back from a lovely London Holiday.

We had the chance of spending a good fortnight in London thanks to her amazing hospitality. A small house, but willingly and lovingly shared. More on the vacation some other day. But you know, I used to think that people are nice to me because I was nice to them. That’s what I used to think before. Now I think I have changed my stance to the opposite. People are nice to you because they are nice people themselves. There is nothing too self-satisfying here. I don’t think she was nice to me or so many people are nice because someone did something nice and we must reciprocate. People are nice because they are like that. Some people don’t trust other people, some are inherently conserving by nature or whatever. It’s them and their choice and not yours. I am nice to a lot of people but some of them choose to be nice to me, not all. It’s not me – it’s them, stupid. Which in some way is really true. Of ocurse, your contribution is not being an ass of a person, not being mean and not being unkind. Basics are required, but the choice is always theirs. They choose to be nice. Swati and her extended family were the nicest of people we met. I am convinced that is that because they are nice to start with and not because I did something great to them. Sometimes I feel some kids give me respect as I was their teacher. But that does not explain why so many don’t. The kids who are nice to start with are nice to me. Those who didn’t care, continued not to.

This is not some stupid humility stuff, but something I suddenly felt. So when someone is nice to you, thank them for being nice and don’t think about yourself. You probably contributed by not screwing up. But they are the real heroes. They are the nice guys in the equation. So it’s only upto us to learn and emulate. Hopefully someday we will catch up. Simple copy cat.

Just yesterday someone in my team was complaining about someone else and then praising how another guy was so sweet. My recommendation was to simple copy the sweet guy. There – you are done. Simple. Thank S and M! Lovely people. I am so happy I am not a freaking racist or a misplaced patriot. I am so happy I teach my daughter to be open and love everyone and try and be nice to all and not judge. The rewards are in so many different ways. Thank you god.

travel right

It’s pretty crazy. I haven’t been able to blog for quite some time. Sometimes I feel I am not just up to it. What do I write? My ‘profoundipity’ is at ebb and I am going through a physically demanding schedule. Mostly I think it’s just a matter of habit. Just when you break it, it’s difficult to get back. I guess if I start writing every day and force myself, it will be back. I will find something interesting to talk and something interesting to write about. Once I do find something interesting to write I hopefully will find it interesting to analyse and bring some seriousness to the issue… or whatever. It also doesn’t help that my blackberry is really really old and withered. I can’t even click any photos with it. Sometimes the photos used to help when everything failed. The best time for my blog when I wrote almost every day was during eth recession when there was precious little to do otherwise at office. With the markets right behaving badly, I guess these time might just make a comeback. But till then its time to push myself and write.
There I just thought of something. Last week I was doing research in Indore and Bhopal. I happened to catch up with a student a few weeks back on SMS and he happened to be in Indore. He is working as a sales manager there and has picked up an apartment where he stays alone. This was invitation enough. So I scheduled my trip accordingly and spent a couple of nights at his place. It was pretty cool to catch up with a student thus. His was a basic accommodation with him sleeping in the hall and he gave me a place in the bedroom. Nothing fancy, just a bed, a mattress, a blanket, a pillow and a fan. What more would I need? In the morning and evening to have bath, we would spend around 30 minutes getting the water hot. We would heat water on the stove and pour it into the bucket. To speeden things a bit we would heat some water in the electric kettle as well. Half to three fourth of a bucket was pretty good. Mix that with some cold water and you have enough for a bath. The biggest bug bear of travelling is having to be alone. I have stayed in five stars and in basic guesthouses but it’s always tough to stay alone for extended periods of time. Even if office colleagues are travelling with you, you sometimes yearn for some friends or family. So while Ronnie was pretty apologetic about the staying conditions, I had no complaints. Absolutely none. I was staying at my students place. What more joy could I ask for? My student was happy to have me over. We talked about life, a little guidance, a little career – some intelligent conversations about sales – done. I loved every moment of it.
We even went to the sarafa bazzar in Indore in the evening. Here the main street shops close to give way to the street food. Here sandwich stalls, pani puri stalls and every other local stall pops up, trying to sell you gastronomical delights. Nothing great to write about. If it is not hyped to you then you are not likely to be disappointed. One of the things recession taught me was to use every chance one gets to travel as an opportunity to soak in the local sights and tastes. I was normally very circumspect when it came to trying local cuisine. But now I have changed to go about and live and enjoy the tourist life. Eat the local food at the local street vendors. See what the romans do. So at one stall we asked the guy what else we could eat. We told him that we were not from here; hence he must guide us as to what the specialty was. Thus illuminated we ate the “corn kis” and the “fried kund”. Both were disasters but at least now I know that they are disasters. If I dint try them I would have never known. The good part of Indore is probably the poha that you get everywhere for breakfast. Compared to Gujarat where everything is fried, this breakfast comes as a delight. But eating it for three days in a row was a little too much. So now I have a story for Indore as well. Nice.
I was asking my host, Ronnie, on how much does he do the local thing. Does he roam out ion Sundays and holidays. Does he soak in the sights and sounds? Does he try to play with the locals, does he experiment with his food. How much of his territory besides the official stuff, does he know. I think I probably shamed him, by telling him some nuances about Indore that I picked up on the trip. I had been to the local mandi where farmers got their grain to be sold to the local dealer. Here the trading would be through the middle men who came in with plastic bags of the produce as samples. Here the trader would first inspect the plastic bag and would get an idea about the quality. Then they would shake hands and cover it with a cloth. In the absence of a cloth they would cover their hands under the kurta (long loose shirt) they were wearing. This is the deal making. A short fast series of finger touching would happen where they would decide on the price. This way they would reach agreement on the price in secret without the need for opening their mouth and disclosing the transaction in the mandi in front of everybody. So feverish trading would happen in relative silence. The only talk would be loose talk and casual conversation. It was an interesting immersive experience. I had seen these handshakes many years before but this was the first time I had seen these in full action on what was essentially a trading floor. High speed trading with no conversation.
So Ronnie is now suitably inspired to try new stuff within his territory. Good for him. What’s the point of being cooped up in your room whole day? Go out, walk a bit, eat a bit, get ill, get sunstroke. Anything goes. Sunstroke? Yup. In Delhi I lead my colleagues to Humayun’s tomb at noon only to find the three of us completely knocked out by sunstroke after the visit. I love the place and can go there again and again. Every time I get to see a new perspective. They have also improved the place and near the entrance is some sort of a display which explains some of the importance and the architecture of the place. The next time I am in Delhi on the must see list is – Safdarjung’s tomb which was the inspiration for Humayun’s tomb which in turn inspired the Taj Mahal. You can’t fully appreciate the Taj unless you see this in sequence. Also a must see will be the sound and light show at the red fort in the evening. I remember seeing it as a kid and I remember loving it and recollecting it for years to come. I can’t wait for Jispa to start learning Mughal history. I want to take her to all these places where she will see firsthand what she studies in her text books.
I have this plan of showing her the forts and the palaces of Rajasthan and Delhi over the weekends as she studies them. That is my dream of teaching her History. So that she gets a perspective from a guide, from Amar Chitra Katha, from visiting the place, museums and from the search on the internet. Perhaps a few documentaries downloaded might also help. I hated the dates that they made us learn in history. I never understood the importance of History and architecture and forts or anything. The way it was taught to us was boring, one sided and irritating. I want to teach her the exciting way. I hope I would be able to do so. I really hope. At least she will get a better perspective and she will be able to understand it better. At least she will not consider it the drab I thought it was. And hopefully she might be inspired to graduate in anything but the commerce and accounting ended up doing. Easily one of the most boring courses ever conceived. Debit and credit. Yuck. Ya ya… I do realize that smart alecs end up doing creative cooking up of accounts and seem to exercise their right brain in the field as well. But those rapists are the one that caused the recession! Too much creativity at the wrong place.