Be counted...

On the 26th of November Mumbai was struck bu horrific terrorist attacks. Of course the ‘lucky’ ones with the news channels on were as affected as any those directly in the line of fire I guess.
There was a protest march organized at the Gateway on Wednesday last. I did not want to march so much as I wanted to see the milling crowd at the place. Jasmine, Sonal (office kid) and I went across at Gateway at 5.30 pm. It was to start at 6. We saw a bunch of sardars setting up a water stall. We decided to ask for if we could help. “of course, seva ke liye humesha welcome”. That was a smart decision. For the next 4 hours we were helping the gang set up the stall, unload the water cartons, set up the tea and rush into the crowd with tea and water. Jasmine has a particularly good knack at serving others. Only she could go right into the crowd, against the flow and serve tea to everyone. To get an idea on the crowd, the road was around 100 meters long and around 30 feet wide at best, and there were more than a lakh of them protesting and marching in around 3 hours. I have no clue how she did it. In the middle I spent a lot of time trying to get the crowd away from overrunning the stall.
I have a theory on why so many came to protest. To be a part of an emotional &social cause and to be counted all one had to do was walk. That was too easy. But people came. And they were deadly angry. Hope it carries till the elections. Then we see.
I did not take any photographs of the place as I was tired of photographers going all over the place trying to catch some action of the place. No sensitivity, only asses with digital SLR’s making a nuisance of themselves. No smiles no acknowledgements, just keep on clicking. Idiots who spend a lot getting the equipment but don’t know even what shutter speed is.
Also while I was serving I noticed that a lot of people understood and responded to jokes/ one liners that I kept giving while serving. The men earlier always understood and responded. The women used to just frown and go cold. This time a lot of women responded as well. They sure are getting more confident and sure of their abilities. This augurs well for the nation. I don’t think too many economists would take this into account. The women are now getting up and getting accounted for as viable productive resources for the economy. They will work, they will shoulder responsibility and least of all they will raise far more confident children. I see it happening everywhere.

Over the week end we went for a walk on the Shilonda trail at the borivili national park. Jispa sure enjoyed it. Her friend from school, Kiara with her momma had joined in as well. Nice place man. I am sure to go there a few more times. Here is the snapshot. The entire trial is like this.
We got Jispa a new larger cycle without trainer wheels. She is now a ‘cyclist’. cool nah. Somehow for Jasmine and me this felt like a landmark.

Check this roadside ice cream stall. Noting remarkable about the stall, but notice that this guy too now offers a variety, albeit small, number of toppings. Right hand front corner has a few jars and the bottle is partially hidden.
Typical winter mornings near Bhakti Park as we go off to the school bus stop. I love it.

Corporate bullshit

Yesterday we went from office to at the food court that’s recently opened out at Nariman Point. Touted as South Mumbai’s first food court (whatever), it was quite a cheerfull and colorful place. We went in early at 12 before the crowd comes in at 1. By the time we were through at 1 pm, there were so many office goers. Lots of guys in formals and ties forming a stark contrast to the place décor. In fact there were so many corporate junkies there that I instantly felt claustrophobic. I am not exaggerating but I really hated to see so many ties at the place. I guess my associations with these places are more fun and frolic and the more I see the formal types, the less comfortable I feel. I too was in formals there but thank god I don’t wear a tie everyday. Possibly these guys remind me of what I probably am as well as what I hate to be. Confused? Same here.

Speaking of corporatism, something really Dilbertian happened at office yesterday. The AC ducts are a perennial problem with offices. People next to them feeling frozen and those 1 cm off the zone, sweat it off. So the guys under the zone put newspapers and anything else to block off the vent, making the others feel even hotter. Every six months the guys come in and take out the packing only to be replaced a week later. There is one duct on the ceiling right next to where I sit. The last time I was in some funny mood so I stuck a picture of my boss there instead of a newspaper. See this:

So yesterday the housekeeping comes running to me “sir, we have to remove the packing in front of your AC duct”. I look at it and say “are you sure you want to remove it. It has JaideepSir’s (my boss) photo on it”. “sir, that’s why I came to you. I removed everyone else’s packing”. I tell him “dude, if you remove JaideepSir’s photo from there you are responsible for it. If he asks anything, I will give your name”. The house keeping runs away keeping it intact. He goes to the admin head. The lady comes here and sees the photo in complete disbelief. “You hung JaideepSir’s photo there?”. “ya, and I am not responsible if you remove it from there. Instead of praying to god, I pray to him everyday.” She too goes away without removing it. What shit? My sweet boss does not even care if his photo is hung there or would care less if it was removed. I can’t believe that this incident actually happened. Fact is stranger than fiction. In corporates you might require permission to do something but you require even bigger permission to change or remove something. hehhehehehehehe

Ageing gracefully

Well ok, I am getting old (er).
I went for a haircut on Sunday and told the guy to cut it short, real short. He gives me a cut that’s not so short and in the end he tells me that since my hair is thinning this is the right length. Any less and the scalp would show. Oh Ya. Sure. I couldn’t help smiling. All I could think of was the scalp of my dad and his brothers and all the male cousins on my dad’s side. All bald or in various stages of balding. I am getting there albeit a bit slower than the others I think.
The other proof of age I think is the number of times I am beginning to hurt my self. Over the weekend the first was when I was helping my friend shift houses. I whacked my jaw by carrying a huge picture frame of a God. I actually whacked myself while I was turning the frame in my hand from horizontal to vertical. I can’t believe it. Then on Sunday I walked into a huge bamboo pole which was horizontal at around 5 and half feet. Banged my head (around the ears) into it. To make matter worse, in my own kitchen while lifting my leg to put one leg on the stool (just like that) I banged my knee into the handle for the drawer. Euu. That hurt.
I am talking about pride more than the mere physical torture.

Fulfillment

OK. Just for the record Jispa knows cycling without trainer wheels. She knew it about a month back. Also for the record she knew a good 5 years before I did. A father feels fulfilled.
Also for the record she swam the entire length of the pool once. Technically her swimming is a bit flawed but she surely swam the entire length of the swimming pool.
A father feels fulfilled.

Mumbai followed by Melancholy??

A French lady I know loves Mumbai as a city. It’s her favorite city. She is always on the road traveling from one city to another and I asked her if she missed France and why was Mumbai her favorite city. This is what she had to say. (To be a little philosophical, you see what you want to see. )

Her Answer:-
“No, to be honest I don't. For me home is everywhere but France whatsoever. I love my family and my friends but for holidays, my addictions are travels, photos, sharing something with people, everything real to me. The more I see, the more I need to learn... And France tends to be empty of values and full of selfish or superficial people, it's my opinion.

Again I don't know what happened but it's like having India still on me, in me, wherever I am. This feeling to miss everything from there didn't fade away over the last 8 months and I can't wait to come back and find answers to my questions. We'll see, patience is a virtue. And of course I'll let you know when I plan to get there.
It's funny cause when we arrived, I told Chris I had the impression that the place was familiar to me although I had never been there before. As usual he thought I was going nuts with my spiritual stuff, for example when I told him that amethyst could help develop intuition lol but I really felt this.

I can't explain why I loved it so much but people say I'm passionate when I talk about my experience in Bombay and I enjoy explaining what the om around my neck represents for me, which is my whole stay in the country. It's as if I had everything in this pendant and I feel very strange if I don't have it, it symbolizes my Indian journey.
Let's just say that in Bombay, I felt like addicted to the atmosphere, in another world, another century, always sharing something with someone. The interactions I had with the people where so full of humanity, so real. A little kid, anybody smiling at me could make my day, the smells, the temperature and humidity, the colors, the bay, just breathing and this impression to be filled of happiness by simple things.
And this fascinating culture, the books I've read on Hinduism, everlasting necessity to learn more about it and try to understand, the faith of people.
Some people who have been to India were surprised of my enthusiasm when talking about it. They said they had hated it because "it's smelly, crowded, noisy, dusty, there's no structure, people are tough to manage, the traffic, etc". And my answer was that yes, but that are the charms of India and that's what makes the country so unique, great and particular. And that I enjoy chaos anyway. Now they don't understand and I reckon it's simply a difference of vision, meaning I saw Bombay with other eyes.

The memories still remain. You guys, so nice to us made a lot and we appreciated a lot your friendliness and the way you received us and gave us the great opportunity to share a lot with you.
The people of our street, the Cafe Coffee Day waiters who made me a surprise offering me a mug with moving messages written on it, the feeling to somehow belong to this place when I walked down the streets despite being a foreigner, the people accepting me as a white girl and sharing a tea with them, the funny kids I wanted to hug, the fact that you can see absolutely anything in India: the guys trying to sell giant balloons, toys or tam-tams whereas you're an adult and keep trying when you say no, full of hope, the food on the streets, eat with fingers, the way people share a meal altogether instead of having each a plate, our super helpful neighbors, the way the cleaning boy was looking at us because he thought we were crazy, our super driver Khan who was as a second father, the bargains on Colaba Causeway, going to Polly Esthers with Chris and coming back home in a carriage, the easy access to great places for weekends, watching those guys playing cricket by the University park, having an argument with my ex-boyfriend I was with in Bombay because he was mad at me when I made friends with the dogs and defended them saying "George also deserves some attention and understands what you say "(for me, all the dogs are named George, don't ask me why!), having this lizard in the kitchen and calling him Mohinder as if he was our pet, listening to Indian music while getting prepared for meetings, wandering in the Taj Hotel just for the smells and beauty of everything, having an american breakfast with Chris at Café Mondegar after a blast, etc etc etc.

I will always remember our last day in India. We decided to have the 30min cruise and enjoy the sun. All the memories accumulated over the 3 months in India came to my mind and I couldn't help crying thinking life was so beautiful on one hand and sad about the idea of being empty without all that, terrified to the country on the other hand. Chris was getting sun-tanned, sorry sun-burnt :), and the picture was really funny: him turning into a lobster and me into a fountain! Then a little girl on the boat asked my name, handed me her box of popcorn and offered me some. You have no idea how I felt full of joy, alive, real.

So yes, Bombay is different, so is India and every time I see an Indian person, I smile at them and am sure they understand I still have a foot there...”



There she wrote it very well. If what people think and see are actually a peep in what they are, Marie is a very beautiful person :)



On another note – I happen to be the editor at our international division internal mailer. This requires me to write some ed’s note every quarter. I love writing complete crap and leaving a few riddles in. the market’s are really bad now and no business is happening and hence the nate’s style and tone. See if you can catch the circular reference in the note.

Aesop explained the merit of a reed in the face of headwind. The mighty oak was too rooted in his past, too rooted for what or where he stood. Too rooted, period! Surly we face difficult times, and no amount of external motivation can help face issues as they arise. The voice of doom creates as much clutter as the crackling of a boom. Could the mantra possibly be to stick to basics and follow your own calling? Cutting through the eschatological noise requires a deep firm belief in yourself and your work. The deep inherent strength is probably what Sheldon Kopp meant when he titled his book ‘if you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him’. Not meaning to sound sadistic, but to the contrary; Killing the Buddha is looking deeply within us, understanding who we are, our failings, our strengths and everything that goes along with it, us. We are the experts in the journey of our own lives. A ha – Philosophy, eh? – the last refuge of the dumbfounded? The Lonely Planet on India warns that when you meet a sadhu, be on guard. The sadhu has been since centuries also a way for the criminal to hide.
To conclude I borrow the closing verse words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who while reciting the heart of a young man to a psalmist wrote:
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

are you game?

Today while I was walking to the station today I thinking about how dirty we keep our public infrastructure. The city is so dirty. The civic body cares two hoots about cleanliness. The bridge I took to the station was tarred and there were so many cracks in it. I thought about Singapore and the fact that the pavement was smooth and devoid of any hazards. In Mumbai you look down and walk, else you might just trip. Look at the photo of my bridge.
I was cursing us when I suddenly realized. I realized that those cracks have allowed me to play a game every single day walking on the streets ever since I can remember. Not stepping on the cracks. Ensuring only one step between two cracks, or two steps for long gaps. If a right foot steps on a crack the next crack must get the left foot. And many such countless variations. I played them as a child I play them now.
If these cracks go I will miss them. Walking might be so boring. This is what they call interactive art installations. The rich are now striving for them. We have had them since ages. Now look again at the photo and let your imagination run a while. Don’t you see a beautiful checkerboard. A kid fantasy of being part of a large life size board. Of avoiding the snakes or passing through their bellies, perhaps climbing the ladder, jumping over other pawns. You decide the roll of dice, the rules and the competition. After all dude – you are the game.

thank you shitheads, you make my life... deep?

But to act, that each tomorrow, find us farther than to-day. Henry Longfellow is so right. Any experience and any day must take us further. That applies to holidays as well. This holiday we were in Haridwar, Rishikesh and Chamba. Being in Haridwar it easy to now understand why the there was resentment against the Brahminical tribe and their practice. I use the term loosely to describe those people who purport to show the way to God and spiritual upliftment. An important part of their trade (surely is a commerce) is to play on the fact that you would be able to absolve yourself of your guilt and bad behavior by merely following some magic formula. And guilt alleviation doesn’t some cheap.
At Haridwar we got sucked in by a guy getting us to perform some Pooja at the Ghat. I show Jispa believing it and repeating what the mantra the Pujari was asking us to repeat. This is not what I want to pass on to my kid. No Chance.
What I made a decision was that I will NEVER ever want to get caught doing anything ritualistic. No poojas, no rituals, no tikas, no bowing. Just belief in yourself, your actions and your inner voice. That itself is important, nothing else. I will probably still release a diya in the river, light one, cover my house with a garland, play the bhajan CD first thing in the morning in the car. Those are my feel goods. My vibes. But they will not be a source of strength or a belief that it will absolve me of any guilt.

I am glad that dickhead accosted me and showed me what an ass I am. Thank you for all the crappy shits (there is a long list of them in my life) in the world. What would I have learnt without you?

Zubin and Jerry's

I got tickets to the Zubin Mehta show featuring the Israeli philharmonic orchestra. Along with it were two supposedly famous vocalists as well. I took Jasmine along to witness something I used to always dream about. Wow the beautiful orchestra, some amazing singing with a tenor and a soprano and some outstaying music.

While entering I really felt weird. Since I had really decent tickets I was in the really decent que. All the others were dressed in their party bests and you had some in suits and blazers. Its amazing how for an Indian classical the people wear Indian traditional and for western classical they wear western formals. I find incredulous, the fact that people dress up for concerts, plays or even movies. I mean is that a social gathering or an entertainment event. Just wear your everyday clothes and run. I happened to be wearing a kurta on my denims. That too because I was wearing one the whole day. I must have been the only wise guy in Indian clothing. I was wearing them on my torn denims but changed on Jasmine’s request. The only thing that stopped me from wearing my shorts was the fact that I knew that all the parsi bawa bawi’s would be all well dressed. So I wore denims in deference to them. Well what the hell. On to the show.

I did not understand anything of it. I hardly even appreciated it. Now I know why I should never buy the tickets. Sure it was great music but all I could think about was tom and jerry. Well that’s all I associate classical western with. I could only visualize tom throwing stuff at jerry and jerry avoiding it. Until I heard Zubin Mehta I did not realize that Tom and Jerry has some good classical music. I now see Hanna and Barbera (creators of T&J you nitwit) in new light. Actually the person to thank for the music is Scott Bradley. Thank you dear Tom and Mr. Jerry for introducing me to culture.

Entertainment and sleep

I have become like dad used to be. I can’t keep awake for long. A late night movie and I just sleep through the end. We were with some friends in Matheran and I fall asleep. On Friday we had some friends over and while talking I just fell asleep. No sleep deprivation for me. The next day we went to see a play and I slept through a part of it. Oh god. Sometimes I even sleep in office. Catch a cat nap. That’s important. Any time is good. I am famous for dozing off in flights. Especially during landing. I guess that time one mentally tunes off and there’s really not much to do. Conversations typically stop. So the best thing is to doze off.

The play we went for was a kiddie play at Prithvi. Sanjana Kapoor who runs Prithvi theatre is doing a stellar job. Jasmine, Jispa and me and have seen atleast 15 odd plays (all kiddie) there. She has figured that a venue is only as alive as you want it to be. She has kept it alive involving all unlike the principle of selective exclusivity. She could have well and truly made it exclusively for the “higher order” of creative and slowly the place would have been teeming with left wing hot headed, bearded bull shitters. But the place has something to it. A character that’s unique. Lovely.

On Dussera we went to Girgaun chowpatty with Jispa. The idea was to see the Ravan burn. But since we were a little early we took tickets for the Ram lila that was being staged there. It was so silly and so badly hammed, organized and played out. The story jumped due to time constraints. The characters place themselves thanks to the mikes hanging only at some locations. I really can’t believe that they have a ridiculously low budget for something as big as this. If you plan well put a good show in place, do some decent PR then the crowd will definitely come in and pay good money. But what the hell, the audience which was from the cow belt was not complaining and they were having a good time. Who am I to complain? The theatre played out silly, I had a good time, Jispa did some TP and they burnt the Ravan in the end. Wheeeeeeee……

Hanuman and Ravan were the best of them all.
She loves to run -

Check this dude traveling - tin man would have been soo proud.

let me see if I learnt something from myself

I have been playing squash for around a year now and have hardly ever played doubles. Must have been around a couple of times. But I guess you can get the hang of the game pretty quick. Yesterday we were around four of us and we started to play. I was the minnow and one of the four was the reigning club squash champion. So I get partnered with him. The guy is so good that I figure all I have to do is to somehow return the ball when it’s in my territory. He will manage the rest. For some reason I focused so hard that I thought I hit some shots that I could never have hit ever. I had a large percentage of shots in. I think it’s just that I could not let the partner down. How can the reigning champion lose? I noticed what he was trying to play. He was playing front and he tried playing everything because I was weak. But that made him come too far back and he lost a couple of easy points. I think he would played better if he stuck to core game. Sure he would need to compensate a lot but if he trusted his partner a little more then he would got a lot more points. The match was more even teams with each team having a relative minnow like me. This time he was against us and I saw him do the same mistake. You lose your core, you lose. Period. It better to trust your partner and lose than to run all around trying to win it by yourself. Sure its supreme self confidence but, you will have to learn to trust your partner a bit more. Lose a bit but you definitely move up as a team. Steve Waugh used to do it while batting. He never shielded the tail from the bowling attack. If it’s a single to be run on the first ball so be it. Trust your men to grow up to the challenge and face the music. Immediately when I played the singles afterwards, the shots didn’t go as well, my percentage was bad etc. I rarely play squash to win. I really don’t care about the scoreline but in doubles I just cant bear to let the partner down. Just not acceptable. Let me see if I learned something from my self.

I suddenly realized that there was one thing that I have not done as a father in his rightful rite of passage. Every father is supposed to teach their kid cycling. Jispa wanted to learn. I kept putting it off but then I realized what I was doing. I took her out and taught her a bit. Two sessions and she was doing good. Life is better for the dad with training wheels but it was nice. I got to basically balance for a few seconds on two wheels before she gets back on the training wheel. But its good progress. I told Jasmine that she now will figure it on her own. Take her down during the school days and I will take her down during the holidays and we are done. My god, if she learnt cycling without me teaching her, I would have lost so much. It’s a good thing I realized in time.

wow that was deep

From October onwards our office has announced that all Saturdays will be off. That is a good thing. Sure I will miss wearing all my lovely t shirts to office. All the sexy dri-fits but, hell, it sure is fun to start the weekend on every Friday. And this is just what I want to re start teaching. I love teaching. I will reorganize my thoughts, try and think of a proper syllabus and start teaching. It’s a must.
Interaction keeps you young, energetic and on your toes. That’s the bets way to do it. A proper subject with proper studies and course material. No being lazy. Proper home work and proper assignments and pre reads and post reads. Well that’s the plan at least. It’s worth trying to put in place a discipline. I have changed over the last few years and it does reflect in my approach. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had remained the same over all these years. What was suited for a younger trainee is soo not suited for someone who is a little up on the ladder. To be truthful, I don’t think I had too much in me as regards emotional intelligence when I started my career. Right now also many times I feel exasperated with certain situations but at least now I would be much in control of them. Recognizing them is the first step to improving I guess. Many times you don’t even know what you are doing is wrong. That’s when a good coach helps.
What happens when you don’t have a good coach? The classical treatise Mahabharat has an answer. Do what Eklayva did. Assume that your coach is there with you. What would he say? What would he want you to do? How would he have wanted you to behave? In life your coaches come and go. They impact you on your life and then either you or he moves on. I have seen that if you remember the basics of what they have taught you, you can remember it regularly enough to behave as if he was there in the present with you. That itself will help you improve. You may not have the coach for all situations and fields, but it is surely quite easy to adapt the coaching from one field to another. Your cricket coach can teach you about handling people that will help you in office. Parenting can teach you about responsibility. Teaching can teach you parenting. Inferences can be got across fields. Many times when stuck I would imagine the best possible coach for the situation. Then I would try to think of what he would do, or want me to do. It could even be your father, sister, friend or anyone who might do better than you.
Coaching also helps you get better. When you try to talk to someone and listen carefully to what they are saying then you are only going to help yourself improve. Many times my ‘wisdom’ has come when I lest expect it. I wouldn’t even know of something I know unless I have said it. Then I think to myself – wow, now that was deep.
I am currently reading ‘Surely you are joking, Mr Feynman. Man, that book is crazy funny. The way these guys get exposure in the top colleges in US is amazing. I would like to have the option of sending my kid to a good college, that will help her broaden her horizon not restrict it. Open up. Read around. Choose stuff from outside your field. Feynman was a physicist, who took up a summer internship in Biology just to go to a different field. I’d love to do something like that. Just go around explore a few things outside your core area, outside your comfort zone.

Camera phone is an amazing things

Photo blogging – there again the lazy option to real writing! This is the famous steps at Mahim where Vinu fell trying to catch the train. The stop has been revisited by Jispa around 15 years since. Moral of the story - Blind men must not run or risk losing a chin.

The beautiful Humayun’s tomb at Delhi. What an underrated monument. I guess that’s just because the Taj is so close by.

The photographer (sonal) and her muse (shazeen)
I love the clouds and the sun interplay.
Jispa collecting shells at Chowpatty beach at Mumbai.
The Ganesh Visarjan, where the idol is taken for ritualistic “drowning” (immersion). I like to go with Jispa. The tenth day is crazy with the crowd when 75% of the idols are immersed. But the 3/5th day the crowds are much more manageable.

I love this pic. If you see closely the clouds have burst open in the background and its raining there. Soon the rain will be here. They surely come and the result of a passing cloud burst with the sun shining is a magnificent rainbow. Next photo please…

continue the experiments

The fast on Friday held true. I think you get hungry only if you think about food else it really does not matter I guess. One day is hardly anything. When I am fully loaded and well fed I weigh 71 kgs and the morning after the fast on an empty stomach I weigh 68 kgs. 3 kgs of shit. I didn’t know that! Now I know. Passing through the popcorn aisles was a little wired on the stomach though. But I really liked the experience. I hope I am able to fast once a year. Also one day I want to know what it is to fast for 8 days. It’s also enlightening to know what the brain makes you think. It tells you – forget it. Eat now. You know you can fast, whom are you proving to. Then I am fighting back saying – I have only my self to prove to. NO I am not eating. I can hold it off for sure. I hate to believe that i cannot control the brain!

I watched three movies over the weekend. Mumbai Meri Jaan on Friday, ‘Rock on’ on Saturday and Wall E on Sunday. I loved all of them. Very rare to see three movies in three days and to like all of them. I don’t why but Wall E was one that I particularly liked. These days the a few of the last Disney animations were boring me. Wall E was different. It hardly felt like animation. They could make robots act! Very very cool. Unsaid emotions. Hardly a dialogue but a lots of emotion.

It was Jispa’s birthday on Sunday. Poor kid was a little upset that she could not celebrate with her friends. Her friends were also celebrating paryushan and could not be a part of her day. We tried our best to cheer her. It was her day where she decided what she wanted to do. For some reason she likes going to the zoo. She must have been there some zillion ties already but she never bores. I guess a zoo is special in a child’s life.

We were singing a song from the movie ‘rock on’. It goes something like – yeh pani gila kyun hai. As in – why is the water wet. When she turns around and asks me – papa, why is the water wet? Oh ok – I don’t know – ask Google. So we have written on her whiteboard all the questions she wants to ask. The second one was on the magnets. The third on – you decipher and tell me. It’s in her cryptic language I guess. Actually its just her short form.

The third question is - When do apples grow? the first drawing is 'apple'. the second drawing represents 'growing'. The third is a string of Alphabtes representing - guess guess... go on try it - ok - they represent the first alphabets of the calendar months. translation - when do apples grow? or In which months do apples grow? or in which season do apples grow.

We went to Mahalaxmi temple after a long long time. During our courtship Jasmine and me went more number of times. We asked for a lot form God. I did for sure. It’s been some time that I have asked for some thing from God, except strength and intelligence. I keep trying to inculcate the same in Jispa. Don’t bribe God.


Yesterday I proved to myself that I have some of my dad’s genes. I drive to the railway station and park my car and collect it in the evening. Yesterday while returning I normally cross a small desolate patch. The road’s been recently done and its used by trucks a lot. The gutter’s on the road create hollows. So some good guys I think put stones on the gutter so that motorists are adequately warned. The stones must have broken by the number of trucks going over it and were all over the road. Yesterday for some reason the street lights were off as well. I saw bike coming straight in, hitting a stone and falling over. I got off. The guys was fine, some other guys on the road helped him up. But I felt something. I kept my dad in mind and I picked up all the stones on the road and dumped them at the side. It took some doing. But I felt nice to do it. I hope I did my father proud. He was a nice guy, true, helpful and straight. He would have done it. I did it.

Experimenting with hunger

I am always trying to experiment with new ideas and new theories. This week the jain festival of prayushan is on. This is the week of fasting and praying by all Jains. I have never really fasted this week. Not that I am too ritualistic in any case. I don’t go too often to temples in any case. So it’s never been a festival for me to be a part of. I don’t even know my prayers beyond the first para. :)
But last time I decided to fast one whole day. In Jainism fasting is a much rigorous than others. You can only drink water in a fast. And you can only eat the next day. Last time was nice. I could get through it easily. The last few hours were fun.
I have started fasting again today. It amazing how one looks at food when you are fasting. The chips look tasty, the bread looks tasty etc etc. Without realizing one gets drawn towards food. I already put in a little Prasad (sweet laddu) and a cracker in without thinking. I realized it only later. But that’s good. Its teaching me a thing or two about being hungry. I have to drink more water. Right now I am feeling funny. And its only 11.21 am. Lets see how the day progresses.
The key is to keep busy and drink tons of water.

12.22 – one hour hence – busy so not been hungry!

1.28 –its lunch time. The hungrier I get the more resolute I become.

Afternoon – Hungry hungry hungry. I see fruit plates roaming around looking tempting. Biscuits never felt so aromatic. Hehehehe . It’s pretty tough. I have a numb throbbing feeling in my head. Not too bad though. The growl in the stomach is louder than anything else I get. An empty stomach heightens all the rest of the senses.

I am leaving office. Lets see how the evening pans out.

picture perfect

When you nothing much to write then show a few pictures. A picture is worth a thousand words. So here are a few thousand words:
This is independence day flag hoisting at Manoribel– a beach resort on the outskirts of Mumbai. I love this place. Chilling and lazing on the hammock all day. The next photo is the view from my favorite seat at this place. Hehehehe

Life moves at a snail’s pace in Manori, actual plus metaphorically.
The three lovely puppies that are in our building. One recently died under a car. Sad. Jispa is getting used to the concept of death.
Aurora theatre. An old theater in Mumbai that is yet to be refurbished. The good part is that till then the seat prices are so low that you don’t mind a bad movie at the place. I mean for 100 bucks for a seat in an A/c hall, the picture is a bonus. Look at the ticket counter, look closely and you realize how thick the wall really is. It’s at least a foot deep. It feels funny talking to the guy. Its like talking to Alice in wonderland after she fell inside the burrow.
Two kids sat next to me in the train to work today. I made as many faces as I could possibly muster up. Try as I might, he just refused to smile. He just kept ignoring me, glancing once a while but no smile. How cheap yaar. The next one is his brother (I guess). He was Mr. perpetual frown, but at least he gave me a short quick smile before moving to his forwny self.

open your mind

Subscribing to the Tehelka magazine was one of the smart things that I might have done. They seem to be the only magazine of some substance and class left in India. It’s the only magazine I read. They seem to be the only ones willing to write what they believe in. I might not agree with some guys but I will always give credit to people with opinion that is researched and well thought. Tehelka is such a magazine. Many time I feel that they are irritatingly biased and wanting to raise huge movements against everyone. Its almost like the leftist student party that believes that everyone who is on the average richer or smarter has a skeleton in their cupboard which they desperately want to unearth. Possibly at all costs. Also they seem to be slowly selling their soul – I thought the cover on Aamir Khan was highly biased. They also started accepting advertorials in the name of Tehlka avenues. This is so irritating and crap. They must have ads for sure, but to cloak them in a way that looks like journalism is something that’s best reserved for the Bombay times, not Tehelka. And ya- I wish they change their name!

This time they had an issue dedicated to the government crackdown on SIMI. Good piece of reporting in the sense that they got their perspective right. Simply laying down the facts and case studies and letting the reader decide what is actually going on. It does help clarify through the mess of reporting that the mainstream is carrying mindlessly. Its almost in the genre of – confessions of an economic hit man. At the end you don’t know the real truth but know for sure that you must not trust everything thrown at you. It does help you see the opposite side as well. Balance…

Some outstanding stuff / quotes from a recent issue:-
Hermann Wilhelm Göring –Nazi party Leader -In an interview with Gilbert in Göring's jail cell during the Nuremberg War Crimes Trials (18 April 1946)
Göring: Why, of course, the people don't want war. Why would some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best that he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece. Naturally, the common people don't want war; neither in Russia nor in England nor in America, nor for that matter in Germany. That is understood. But, after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine the policy and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship or a Parliament or a Communist dictatorship.Gilbert: There is one difference. In a democracy, the people have some say in the matter through their elected representatives, and in the United States only Congress can declare wars.Göring: Oh, that is all well and good, but, voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same way in any country.
My take - this is so similar in corporate life as well. The new guys will some and tell you that if this does not happen the consequences are bad / will be detrimental. X is the only way to do it. It’s an old scare the guy into believing approach. I have liked my company because of their practical approach. The new guy comes in and then wants to scare the old order. I hope I resist this movement. It’s difficult when the pacifist is called unpatriotic and accused of exposing the company to danger, but I hope to still call the spade a spade as I see it. Also I will hope to continue to build trust and happiness as opposed to building scare and danger.

In the times of Universal deceit telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act – George Orwell
My take – Reminds me of boardrooms and large meetings where everyone is either lying or hiding the truth. I hope to say what I think is the truth. I really hope.

William Faulkner – prejudice is shown to be most destructive when it’s internalized
My take – life’s big lesson. It’s correct. I fight every day every moment not to internalize prejudice. It is truly most destructive when internalized.

selfish selfless, who cares a damn?

Everyone is selfish and interested in their well being at the end.

This has been on my mind for sometime and when a friend raised it I felt compelled to write about it.
My thinking on this goes back a long way. Once my dad and I had this conversation on Jainism (my religion) and he was explaining that in Jainism monks are expected to give up everything. At a level one he is expected to preach to the people about the religion and at the next level the monk is expected to only bother about himself and not even teach to others, the final level is one where he refuses food and drink till he achieves one with the universe or something like that. I remember asking that isn’t that selfish. Dad told me that in many way, yes it was.
When parents scolded me and when they told me that they worked hard to ensure we got a decent upbringing, in our naivety or anger we thought – it’s only their duty; only to regret thinking so later.
When I do the best for my daughter, put her in good school give her access to the best facilities, I have her interest at heart. But is the source of this? is it my selfish desire to provide for her more powerful than a selfless desire to provide for her.
Aren’t all selfless desires really a manifestation of a supremely selfish desire? If we do donate out of our desire to help ‘selflessly’ aren’t we driven by our desire and in that, isn’t that desire ours, in other words driven from inside us, making the desire itself selfish?
Can one ever have a thought so pure that it is purely out of doing for doing sake? For this to happen it must pure of intention. If there is intention then there is root of selfishness. For this an act that is a reflex reaction may alone be selfless. Putting your hand out to save someone you don’t really need to and fast enough not to think about consequences, is that selfless or that a selfish action honed into your head over the years. The point is that everything you do is processed by your brain. Your brain is not designed to self destruct but to live long enough.
So are we all truly selfish. My answer is yes – but hold on – it’s not that bad. In fact it’s not bad at all. The question is that, is your mind balanced. Does it have desires that say happiness is only obtained by self, or does it say that others happiness makes for your happiness as well. The root is simple, can I be happy and content by seeing others happy. Am I able to let others happiness be my source. Also when some one does something, do we really need to check if his selfish motive is at heart or do we let it be. Can we live and create an environment that says, I don’t care too much about your reasons for helping me but I appreciate the fact that you are.
I have realized that by compartmentalizing my brain – by letting go of guessing other people’s ulterior motives, by attempting to see positives, by attempting to understand that other people’s motives are ok, life has been has been happier and better. I keep telling people that you can’t control your brain to think and be on guard, but you can compartmentalize the action. You can be happy that someone is helping you and also you can be a little wary of the real motive behind it. Both seemingly opposite and emotions can coexist. (my favorite yin yang).
On helping others – its simple, open you pre school book. There are enough lessons there for you.

its the brain, stupid

Sighhhh… its early morning. I am in office and its time for my blog. Normally my routine is reach early catch the newspaper and then figure if I have time to write or it normally just disintegrates into routine of answering mail and figuring shit. It does take some self discipline to blog.

The last Saturday we had the inter division football matches. Good fun. 5 a side football with no offside. I have always maintained that all sports are won and lost not on the ground but in the mind. And when the odds are shortened even more by these innovations that make the game shorter and faster, its not necessarily the skill that takes you there but your brains. The ground thanks to the rain is full of muck and this makes dribbling impossible and passes a waste of time. Good player struggle and idiots like me make hay while the rain clouds block light. At first they put me to attack. Big mistake. I missed three chances at the goal, though I sure think that my common sense helped me create them. In the knockout stage I played defender. Simple strategy – hit long balls direct into the opposite D. As my attacker Anil said – finally we got enough balls to convert. Result – 5 – nil. It is a simple game. The attackers hang around the goal and the defender whack the ball there. It is a smaller ground, no offside and almost no rules. I never played good football. That was my brothers’ job, but I deteriorated much slower with age than others. In corporate sports, it just takes simple fitness to do better than others.

Sunday was movies day. I saw Batman – the dark knight. I thought that movie was scripted by a very intelligent man. My favorite line was when joker tells batman – that the joker completes batman. In other words you need an opposite to define you. The movie is full of such nuggets. Its one of the best philosophical movies made. Comic characters allow the script to take a turn of fantasy and thereby allow the script writer to weave in a sub text that is of a higher order which might be difficult to combine in main stream films. This is a brilliant movie in that respect. Will definitely do more research on the movie and understand it further.

Next time someone really irritating comes into your life / office and bugs you. Remember to see the movie. You will realize that you require a villain, for the city to appreciate it’s hero. Everyone has roles to play. People are defined not only by what they do but what others do or not do. You are never in a vacuum. You are but a part of the ecosystem. Bird poo on your car is a piece of shit but tones of it make for guano and become an import source of minerals for mining. (Search for Atacama Desert/ guano / war of the pacific) (its always nice to show off some little wisdom you gleamed from your recently read book. Hehehehehehhehe.

'copy' writing

V-inu says that I write well. If only I checked what I wrote and just rewrote a bit better it would be dam neat. Ya. I know that but what to do, I did not ever like checking the writing. My mom couldn’t make me do it while I was in school. In office I take pains to check and re write and stuff like that and that’s enough. That takes a toll on me in any case. In office I think I have become the chief copywriter, chief visualizer and chief creative all rolled into one. Not many people can write half decent copy. And I have realized in the years gone by. A very few select guys have the intellect to write sense. I believe that I am half decent. There are many better than me, many many; but I get eth benefit of having billions worse off. What shit. I think I started writing better after reading. It’s not just the reading level but the exposure level that counts. The ability to exposue yourself to newer ideas, newer styles and the willingness to learn. I have said this before – the willingness to learn – from anything – from a rock perhaps.

In my job, good writing is not equal to original writing. Thanks to Google, I have the opportunity to pick lines, research the subject and immediately figure out some stuff to put out. We have a internal emailer that we put out. I am the defacto editor there and the privileges are that I write the ed’s note every time. Below is the ed’s note. I kinda like the way I wrote it. It’s just a piece of lifted lines from around but decently strung together. There is a reason they call it copy writing I mean how difficult can that be? How difficult? This quarter we focused on the Monsoon.


Legend has it that on one his trips back from Kerala, Vasco da Gama asked the king whether he could take a pepper stalk with him for replanting. The king, well known for sarcasm, responded calmly, “You may take our pepper but I don’t think you will be able to take our rains',' referring to Kerala’s twin monsoons, almost a prerequisite for the growth of pepper plants.
No Indian in his right sense would need to be explained the importance of monsoon. And that by that logic it is indispensable for someone selling India. The progress of the monsoon is keenly watched, for it holds (mythically, some argue) the key to everything - from crop output to inflation, consumer spending and economic growth. The first Indian monsoon forecast was issued in 1886. In the last 135 years, the monsoon has been "normal" 94 times -- when rainfall was either 10 per cent above or below average. Whatever that means to you.
For most of Indians Monsoon means much more. The Monsoon has been the subject of many creative. They may be of hope, romance, tragedy, an excuse to clasp your love or the usage of the rain as a metaphor. Thoda sa Roomani ho gaye for the right brained, a movie that is a poetic blend of dreams and reality, a story of ordinary people and that what is extra-ordinary in them.
At the end, the question is simple. It is the one that we ask of yourselves, ourselves this Monsoon – can you make it rain?

Goooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllll

At the station I overheard a bunch of going boys discussing football. Kya shot tha! The guy slid so well. He was 2 nil up. In extra time I whacked it in. what an idiot you are. I can beat you any time.
Its monsoon season in Mumbai. Monsson in Mumbai invariably means football. Tons of it. Playing in the school, on the road, playing billa football. Billa football is actually playing football with a cola crown (cap). Usally played over smooth tiles ground and usauuly played when you have too much rains outside and get into class completely wet. The crown by its very nature and boys by their nature define the game. You can’t do too much dribbling but you sure can put your foot right on the crown and drag it till as far as you can. All the other guys can kick your leg like crazy trying to get it off the god dam billa. You can use your arms to fend of attackers and maintain your bvalance but you can’t wrestle with the players – that is rugby while we were playing football (soccer). But hell we played a lot and came home stinking and mucky. That was the entire point ofcourse.
Coming back to the bunch at the station. They animatedly discussing the game. ‘He was 2 nil up and then as soon as he scored I hit the ball directly and it went as a goal’. “arre, I was pressing A continuously. Man I was giving him a thrashing. I can take you anyt…” Wait a minute, wait a minute, ‘pressing A continuously’. Oh shit, they were playing football on play station or a computer. What whimps. What a bunch of losers. Complete wasters.

Water water everywhere, not a single drop to drink

There is this great drinking water place at flora fountain sponsored by the Rotary or the lions club. I would not know the exact details. It is horrendously designed and ugly to look at. It has no character and is designed to alienate people and is highly uninviting. I don’t remember ever wanting to drink water or anyone actually dinking water from the place. I wish it was a better designed structure that was inviting and open for the people to drink water. But due crdit to the organizers for keeping the place clean. In fact every morning the keeper washes the places thoroughly and scrubs it clean. The cynic in me one day was wondering… how much water does this guy use to wash the place? He uses a pipe and washes the dam thing for 30 minutes I assume, wasting tones of water. While I applaud the effort to keep it clean I really see it as a waste of time. Also not to mention that the water being washed down makes the place around it dirty. I am not a big fan of the drainage system.
See the below photo. I cant think of anyone putting his head through the white things trying to drink water. The guy using lots of water scrubbing it clean. The barricade actually stopping people to freely access the place. Public stuctures like public art must not have barricades.

the attack of the republicans

We got this email yesterday from IT ...

"Dear Users,
Internet access is available to many of the employees in ba nk. This exposes various risks like confidential information theft, virus outbreak etc. A new trend that is emerging is that hackers are downloading malware (malicious software) onto the user desktops through infected websites on the Internet. Some of these malware are designed amongst other things to capture userid/passwords and automatically send them to attackers.
So Information Security Committee has decided to Grant Internet access to employees on a strictly "need basis". Some of business heads have already provided the list of users who will have access to Internet.
From 31st July onwards Internet access will be available only to the employees for whom approvals have been obtained. However many ba nk related website will be open to all users. List of such website is attached in the mail"

------ wow, pretty cool. i just cant undersatnd this stuff. Are we all getting too right winged? sometimes I think that as organisations get larger they get more and more right winged. there rae tons of stuff that completely drive the employess up the wall. the employees cant figure whats happening, they get teh feeling of being controlled by a larger force, typically the HO. the HO mostly does not have a clue on whats happening on the ground and their policies are wierd and mostly scare inducing. i am sure they have thier reasons but for the man on the ground working hard. I inclination is to let it be! freedom is always good. As a book on parenting once said - Permit where you can and protect where you must!

AAKRAMAN

Sometimes too much work gets piled on. My standard response – I take my time and think and write it down. Then once written I aggressively go for it, finishing, delegating and butchering it till it gets over. No respite. The work will slowly disappear and you win!
This applies to personal and professional work.

PS: sometimes I wonder if I might just rapidly spontaneously combust. Poof... I am just no more.

book & fight

I am reading this amazing book on behavioral economics – ‘predictably irrational’ by Dan Ariely. It’s quite a fascinating book on how people behave, and quite irrationally. Probably turning the classical economist theory on its head. It’s a sure mind opener. One book cannot truly influence the mind in a positive manner. One needs to read a lot to form opinions one synapse at a time. Some books have more to give and some less.

Sometimes you don’t know what the book gives but its so beautiful. ‘Blankets’ by Craig Thomson is one such book. It’s an absolute beauty. It’s an autobiographical graphic novel. He so captures the feeling of growing up, of love and of the complex process of learning / coming to term with one’s belief’s values etc. It is as valuable a tome on parenting as any other. Really a top class read. Is it something that a teenager can learn, enjoy as much as a parent – maybe not, but I would guess as much.

I have always wondered if I should interfere in a street fight. But I hesitate. Who is right and who is wrong. Who started it? I am always paralyzed by analysis. My first reaction is to just take a blow at the superior guy and favor the underdog but that’s not the best justice dispensing mechanism. I still don’t know what’s the right thing to do?

Cell Cameras Capture Crazy

I have taken doodling to anew art form. 3 D doodling. This was a meeting where we had saunf/variari or I think its called fennel seeds in english.

ain't i holy?
A ha - my angel, flanked by her two cars
Easily among my favourite pics. We were walking arounf regal/colaba and we entered National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA). A photo echibition of Raghu rai was on. Quite pretty pics all over. This one was Jispa looking at a picture. She liked the NGMA. I think because of the grand layout more than anything else.
But I really love this pic. And if anyone cares to ask, "which camera?" - hahahaha. Its my humble cell phone camera. Anyone's camera.

Gandhi, my father, my daughter

My interest and my understanding in Gandhiji’s philosophy and way of life had largely been triggered by Freedom at Midnight and then through his own ‘Satyagraha in South Africa’ finally culminating (for the present) in ‘the life of Mahatma Gandhi’ by Louis Fisher. All three have made great profound impact in my life. Layer that with the movie Gandhi that we must have seen umpteen times in childhood, and what I have is a vivid image in my mind about his life, mission, ideals and what not. I am trying to understand his ideals I am truly impressed with what he stood for.

I got my hands on the movie recently again. Yesterday I watched Gandhi with Jispa. Jispa (5 and a half) is normally quite sensitive and can’t even watch a Disney classic without being moved. She does not like sad animations. Violence in movies is just not her. Nevertheless when she came by my side, I let watch after warning her that this has a lot of fighting. She has learnt about Independence struggle in school so I guess she was curious.
I kept explaining to her what was happening. She followed a lot on her own. She kept encapsulating what she understood from the movie. The speech in South Africa declaring non violence as the chosen path. She kept counting the number of times he went to jail. Around four times I think (in the movie).I then tried to explain to her the defiance of the Salt act. I was explaining to her the importance of Salt. Funnily this was the first time she realized that mummy puts salt in all the food. She did not believe it at first. Mummy had to confirm the same to her. She realized the power of styagraha when the Indians bravely took the blows while trying to get to the salt pans. She saw jallianwalla baug as well. For a sensitive kid she did a lot of growing up. She was then completely freaked out when she realized that after Independence Indians were fighting amongst themselves. She knew Gandhiji taught not to fight and that is being more stranger than hitting back, but she did not know how to react when we Indians were fighting amongst ourselves.
In the end when Ghandhiji was shot she asked ‘who shot him? Was he a foreigner’, no I replied. “he was an Indian?” “ya” I replied again. “why did an Indian kill Gandhi?” she always thought it was the British who beat him, jailed him and more or less hated him. “because he did not like him” I answered. “but I thought all Indians liked Gandhi”. “no sweetie, some didn’t. So he shot him”. “Gandhiji died?” she asked emotionally choked. “Ya” I was choking my self. We looked at each other, half choking half holding back tears. We both tried a brave smile, looking at each other for support. We were actually supporting each other. Jispa grew up a bit, I grew up a bit. It was a truly special moment for me.
Trivia - I first understood the power of Gandhi from my dad. I remember having a long conversation with him on non violence before I was converted.

Look ma... Double Decker

Yesterday after a long time, I got an opportunity to sit right ahead on the top floor of the famous Bombay double-decker bus. Actually not that the opportunity is too hard to come by but generally sitting right up there in front is perfect for making your face an oily pollution trapper. Its monsoon time, the air is highly ionized and therefore the pollution is generally much lower. The air feels cleaner (yes – FEELS). So I got in and sat in front. It reminded me of the time when we were kids and we used to sit right up there with our head almost out and our mouths wide open with tongue sticking out. Luckily Bombay is not a largely bug flying zone. Pollution was not that big an issue as well 25 years ago. Sitting there brought back some interesting memories. Here is a faltu photo essay of the lovely journey

Waiting at the traffic signal. Amazing to get a top view!

Top deck perpective of the road ahead
The beautiful flora fountain contrating against the ugly top side of the bus
A ha - the bus number - the opposite perspective.
Such a small space and a double decker wanting to squeeze through. Will it succeed, will it knock over the bikes like dominoes.

Just... I like the Oval maidan that you can see

the greens that you miss from the ground floor but which you notice from the top

the actual view if you are seated with your back resting against the... well... backrest

the women coming out of the women's only bus that was ahead of us.

Men about to get off the magical journey and start their drudgery.

Random Photos

when you want to update your blog adn you dont have time to write ( i always have ideas though!) you just update the photos.

The book on parenting under the Adventure section. Hmmmmm.... crosswords trying to prove POINT.
A to Z on one shelf. Pretty Useful I assume. Crosswords again.
Jispa arranging her food and saying - look a butterfly. I loved doing that as well. I still love it.
Monsoon outside my home window from my humble cell phone 2 megapixel camera. SO next time someone sees a pretty photo and asks 'which camera'- answer them - 'does it matter?'
Jispa at play. I think she was playing teacher teacher.

BORED

I am normally sooo bored at pub parties. I must be really really bored to take these pictures from a colleague’s cell phone. SEE THE DEPTH OF FIELD :) (depth, ya sure, hahahhahahahah)

cheapo papa

I have been using air travel for the last four odd years now. I see a few parents wanting to buy something for their young ones from their travels. No it’s not a souvenir, its more like a bribe, or rather a guilt elevation program. I have no such guilt. Of course I rather stay at home but I have no guilt traveling. On time I did feel bad was when I received a message from Jasmine – “you broke the record this year. You were out of town for all three b’days and anniversary … Jasmine.” Ok Smarty pants that was nice and straight.

But I am not that bad a guy. When Jispa was around three, I used to get something for her from my travels. That was typically the 250 ml water bottle served on the flight! Wowwwww. Then I used to get her the Free tiny plastic spoon. Or sometimes the wet wipes. Boy am I cheap or am I cheap. But I guess it was good fun. I did not want her to get the “what did you get me” habit. So even if I did pick up some book or the other, I would be quiet about it. Then as she grew older I stopped getting her stuff. Recently I got her a bottle again. She looked at me and laughing said, “daddy, this is so useless. We have so many bottles.” Yeah yeah… I am sure. Then I got her the spoon. She laughed again. Then I reminded her about the fun she used to have as a kid with it. Jispa is now 5 and a half and now she goes all nostalgic and loves the spoon, when I get it.
This time while travelling, I thought I might click this stuff and showcase what a complete cheapo I am.



Life comes a full circle. Doesn’t it?