Footboards, what would we do without you

Today I took a much later train than usual. I was not used to crowded trains. The idiots didn’t make space for me to go in and I was left hanging on the footboard. Anyone who has used the Mumbai local trains for close to 18 years would be comfortable with the same. I first started to use the train independently when I went to college. My college was in Churchgate. That made me use the trains for the first time. Mom was worried and did not want me to go so far. It was only after my brother intervention that I was allowed. But that is another very interesting story. My dad explained me how to go. It was pretty confortable. Catching the 11.18 train from kings circle, get down at the next stop at Mahim and then the train from there to Churchgate. I got the hang of it pretty easy. I used to run across the track, jump fences, through the holes in the fences, run along the bridges, jump into running trains, travel at the footboard even if there was space inside etc etc. I wonder how I managed to come out unscathed from those years. As wisdom set in I started looking for space to sit, took foot bridges etc. But I still run for the trains. Something don’t change, some things take time.
But technically I have not come off it unscathed. Once I had to go to Mumbai central to catch a train to Gujarat. I was working there in 1998-99. Jasmine was with me. The train came at Dadar. It was crowded and Jasmine went into the ladies compartment and I boarded the one behind. I could barely get a foothold and a hand on the railing inside. I had a big bag which stayed out. As the train left the station slowly I realized that the poles are dangerously close. Suddenly one hit my bag; I tried to get it in place. Another one hit my bag. I took my free left hand and pushed it closer to my body. WHACK. The pole hit my hand, under the elbow. Wow that hurt. It hit the bone. Luckily I held on. I screamed to the guys to let me in. magically space opened out. They probably heard the sound or felt the desperation in my voice. I sat in examining the damage. No cut and no fracture (ratified later). I live relatively unscathed. Not that it stopped me from climbing crowded trains. Relentless Mumbai spirit?
Coming back to today. I was traveling on the footboard. But I was clearly uncomfortable. Very bearable crowd but just I guess I am not used to it. I am happier seated. Good for me I guess? I guess.

tut toot tooth

Yesterday was historic day in the annals of Jispa’s spectacular growth story.. ok ok. I do get carried away with my rubbish at times… yesterday Jispa encountered the super natural. But that would be a bit ahead of us, wouldn’t it? Let’s start from the beginning.
Jispa’s front tooth started moving a bit sometime back. She was pretty happy about it. She used to play with it with her tongue. Slowly but surely it began to hang loose. I kept looking at it. “Jispa do you want me to remove it. It will come out any moment. I can remove it now”. “NOOOO. DON’T. it will hurt.” “ok whatever you say”.
Yesterday I got a message from jasmine ‘Jispa asked me to inform all of you that her front tooth has come off’. What a momentous occasion. She was excited all day after that. I came home and clicked photos of the tooth and her toothless (one tooth less) smile. Shot some macros of the tooth in question, and even shot some videos. Jispa was asking if we informed everybody. She said that when important things happen one should inform everybody. Well we sure did her bidding. Everyone now partakes their share of this joyous event. I even asked for a cover containing Rs 1001/- from her uncles and aunts. No harm trying to get lucky. :)
At night we put the tooth in the tooth fairy box. We had bought this a year back! What enthusiastic parents we are, nah. Wonder of wonders. When Jispa woke up today she suddenly got up and checked her tooth fairy box. The tooth had been taken by the tooth fairy and instead she got a brand new swanky looking five rupee coin. The one that has the Gandhi Dandi march on its side. Wow. Pretty cool. Some kids have all the luck. She then suddenly noticed her whiteboard. The tooth fairy had even written a lovely note for her. Now this is too much. She got a personalized handwritten note. It said, dear Jispa, grow up well and fast, love tooth fairy. Boowooo… I never got this stuff… in comparison we live / lived such mundane lives.
Let’s see if lightning strikes twice, she still has a few more teeth to go.

To get an idea of the lives we led here is a ridiculously old photograph, circa August1978. I was three years old and my cousin was donating blood. That’s my dad carrying me and my er… rattle? And my brother being carried as well. My mom to my dad’s right and my sister standing in the front. Also if you see carefully you will realize while we donate blood in plastic pouches, the measuring units (slang) for blood typically is bottles.

My dad’s brother (holding my brother up) and his wife (beside him) used to be champions of the cause of blood donation. Somewhere around 1985 I remember visiting them and reading that they had been honored for donating blood some 50 times already. Wow. Those impressions I still carry in my mind and I try as much as possible to be available for any blood donation drive. In office I even made all my colleagues donate it. Monkey sees, monkey does.

a little bit of humility, please.

We had gone the other day to Imax Adlabs, now called Big Cinemas. We wanted to watch the dark knight on the Imax dome theatre. Should be fun, we figure, to watch batman and his nemesis magnified a zillion times. It is quite a crazy complex movie. I have already seen it once when it had originally released. Sitting back, researching it and then understanding it; made it important to see it again.
We sit nice and happy waiting for the movie to start at 6 pm. Five minutes on – no movie. Suddenly the national anthem starts with no warning. Everyone gets up. Oops. 54 seconds up and we sit again. More waiting… some music starts. Ok. Then suddenly the producer logo starts playing without the lights being dimmed. Ok. Then its stops. Ok. Then some more waiting. Some activity near the pursers cabin. The purser comes out and announces a technical snag. Five minutes more. The air conditioning is off. We start feeling warm. Then people start shouting for the screen to come on. Wise cracks fly all over the place. Suddenly the movie starts, sputters for a brief moment, dies a natural death. Now this is getting unnerving. It does seem like the joker is on the loose. 30 minutes up and the joke is on us. 40 minutes and lot of shouting and reassuring later the movie starts, but mind you, this is not the beginning, it is 5-10 minutes into the movie already. We resign to our fate and sit. Then we realize something is amiss. Oh come on… the soundtrack was not in sync. In the action scene it didn’t make a difference. The bullets were whizzing all over the place. But when the dialogues started one realized that the sound was actually five seconds before the scenes. Weird.
Every one got up, screamed. They stormed out. In a few minutes one came back and announced that they were giving refunds. The crowd and the action moves to the box office. The manager is trying to pacify the crowds. The crowd is asking for something more than just a refund. The manager does some calling and figures that he can give a refund along with a chance to watch the movie again till Thursday. Who watches movies on weekdays?
We see an ironic poster – if you have feedback please sms us. Type WOW followed by your feedback to xxxx. What shit? How preposterous. Forcing me to type wow automatically turns me off when I want to send negative feedback regarding something. Eliminating negative feedback is how people grow.
I don’t understand this stuff. There is no power given to any manager. The dome runs on 5 to 10% capacity in any case. The cost of the screen, staff and AC is fixed in any case. If something goes wrong, why can’t you just offer a complete refund instantly along with a free voucher to see the movies again? This way if the guy comes in again at least you make money off the popcorn and cola, which is a ridiculously high margin item. I would have given at the very least a free movie ticket and a free upgrade your pop corn voucher. This way I am sure he will but some pop corn and hopefully some colas along with. But no… these chains will spend on the décor, the funny irreverent advertising but will have no standard procedures for any delay, technical snags etc. Instead of converting customers to ambassadors they will ensure dissatisfied customers. I understand arrogance when your halls are full, but the dome runs empty. Use it you idiots. Give tickets left right centre. Do anything. But have a customer appeasement program, please. Even the marginal cost of the pop corn tub and Pepsi cannot be more than 5-10 bucks. If some stupid tax laws do not allow you to give free tickets use the dam pop corn. BUT for heaven sake do something. Aagggghhhhhhhhh.
I once had a chat with the brilliant guy (not a sarcastic comment) who did the Adlabs advertising. They did some smart stuff on the posters etc. My take was simple. That’s lovely stuff, but if your staff is unable to follow through then you risk having a higher expectation and ridiculously high difference in expectation standards. This is exactly what played out. This makes me hate advertising and marketing. Sometimes it better for your organization to talk less and behave better. Humility pays.

Everone loves Suman

When I first came to my current company, it was Suman Horo who was sitting behind me, or should I say, I got to sit behind Suman, sharing a largish open cubicle. One of the jobs thrusted upon me was third party alliances. I had no clue what that meant. It involved dealing with the mutual funds and negotiating with them on behalf of the company. To put it mildly I was – well – lost. I know nothing beyond the basics of mutual funds, nothing about brokerage and nothing about whom to interact with. Suman on the other hand was an expert. He knew the entire industry. I was commercial and he was the fundamental part of dealing with the funds. He would research the funds and I would get the best brokerage. When I first met him I could sense no political bone. A straight sweet guy with no airs and no arrogance. Mutual fund dealings from a distributor side can get heady. You have the senior guys and who’s who talking to you, trying to get on your side, hoping to do something that will influence you to recommend their fund. This has of course resulted in a lot of inflated egos from our ilk. Suman was an exception. With me as a willing student, he got me introduced to a lot of people. He got my name on their lists. The spams of course, but also to the Diwali and Christmas lists of the funds. He saw no territorial issues. We both could get along pretty well. We had a common boss. We even fought on the same side with him. Ganging up for something we believed in. he believed in me, I believed in him. It helped the firm. We worked as a team, in tandem.
It’s rare to get such stuff from office colleagues. When I first came in and was arranging my table. He generally looked behind and asked me – do you play cricket? A ha – what a question to ask, do I play cricket, do birds fly, do fish swim. At that time it self, I pulled out a trophy of mine (some cricket tournament) and showed it him. Great he got me into a team he was helping form for the internal tournament. Suddenly I emerged captain that tournament and he my most reliable player. We played many matches afterwards. Every time I need a sane head to bat or bowl I turned to him. It wasn’t that he was exceptionally talented, but he had a quiet grit. The ability to back himself within his limitations. He would bat and bowl with a clear head and a strong heart. We really got along well.
When he finally resigned from our company, I really felt bad. He was a good resource. It was not for him to handle his bosses. He played it like he saw it. He was simple and wasn’t the one to be given to any outbursts. He did what he could do best, use his feet.
We kept touch though we were in rival companies. Whenever I need to understand something I would call him and vice versa. He was my listening board for my frustration and ideas. The only guy among bankers who could appreciate creativity. We used get together for chai often, wenting our ire. It was therapy for sure.
In many ways he was my elder and it was a pleasure to know him, to work with him. I learnt quite a bit from him. In many forums where the mutual funds used to gather us we met. I always wanted to be with him. He translated the stuff for me from financial stuff to common sense. And when I used to get bored from it all and say ‘kya fart hai’ he would humbly smile and agree. This one photo I clicked of him at the Bandra Worli sea link which we had gone visiting. That’s his normal smile.
And this one is the one he has clicked of me standing on the new Bangalore airport runway. The two photos together tell the whole story. I was always cynical and wanted to laugh at everything. Everything was fart and one big picnic. He would always smile and understand. Very amiable. He would let you lead anything. He was confident about his role, his knowledge and his work.
Doing all this and still getting respect and love together from a cut throat and selfish industry is no mean achievement. Everyone loves Suman. They would regularly praise him. Great guy. I love him and I learn from him. I even shared my Chakrams with him which he took home for his daughter Noella. Very cute kid. Looks like him too.

One often is over effusive when one feels the loss, but Suman was one great guy who deserves everything I said so far and much more. I felt the wind go out of my lungs when on Saturday I learnt that he passed away due to cardiac arrest. He was around 36 years old. The industry was shocked and they all felt the loss… though…

…I cry alone.

kusang ka phal

As a part of my job I am required to handle the PR activities. This involves pushing people to talk to the press. Some hate it. They are generally the smarter ones. The others love it. This is a bunch of mixed characters. But I love the ones that start falling in love with themselves, they are ones who love going on TV, talking to the press and generally like to see their names in print. They fall in love with their theories, their own voice, their own image and personality. Even they talk gibberish they don’t notice it. All the world’s press feeds off this tendency of individuals. Not that I am above it. Everyone has it, the degrees vary. I have seen enough of these chronic cases. I remembered the Greek mythology of Narcissus, about the boy who fell in love with his own reflection. I so love that story. Now you know where narcissist comes from.

Most narcissists are typically egged on by those around them. ‘Yes men’ and genuine adulators alike are to blame. It requires sane shoulders or a cynic to help stay in line. I guess that’s why old friends are needed, level heads are needed. People who show you your true picture and not your image.

The importance of peer group is often under rated by the younger lot who do not believe they can be swayed but over years this is repeatedly proven otherwise. Today morning was an interesting case in point. At her bus stop, her friend (elder to her) was reading a book instead of generally hanging around. Instantly Jispa removes a book from her bag and starts reading it as well. I rest my case :)

Oh choices

Jispa will go on to the first standard. This is the time we have to choose her co curricular activities. I didn’t realize that this would be so stressful. She will learn one sporting and one non sporting activity. For this she has to give two options for each. The choice in sporting ones include judo, taekwando, athletics, chess, football, malakambh and yoga and the in the non-sporting they include cooking, art and craft, dance, music, nature club and speech and drama.
This is so dam confusing. Should we put in new stuff so that she is exposed to more things or should we put her in stuff that is already good at so that she gets better? I prefer diversity but also the theory of concentration is so powerful. Oh F&%^ it. We will just go for what she kind of likes. I prefer taekwando and athletics and I think Jispa prefers that as well. Thanks to kungfu panda? Yaieeeeeeeee aaaa oooo. There go the ceramic plates. For the non sporting ones I would really prefer that she learns some basics on music.
Also a long time I haven’t uploaded pics. Here are a few.

Seen near Churchgate station subway I don’t understand what this means. Calls to landline and cell phones are at your own risk. What else can you call. I guess calls to the almighty are at his risk.
Jispa with some stray puppies in the building. She just loves them. Thanks to her chachi.
She likes sitting there in the i-ten. Wonder why?
This is exactly the reason I am not buying a better camera. These guys are all over the place with their DSLR’s and are really obtrusive and in your face. Sling a camera on your neck and you have the license to be anywhere, shoot anything. Just see where his elbow is. The idiot did not even bother to ask for permission or anything. He just plonked his elbow near the crotch of the clay molding instructor and started shooting.
We are what we eat. This is some of what the office pantry stocks. You figure. Britannia’s tag line says, eat healthy think better. Since when did biscuits (cream or otherwise) become healthy? Even the chip guys promote their low fat content in an effort to be seen healthy. What shit.
The snake bird or the darter at Bharatpur. It does make for a pretty silhouette.

its the gene pool, stupid

Jispa is a sadist. I have proof.

Her front tooth is shaking and ready for replacement. So everyday she wonders when the curtains will fall on her teeth or should I say the curtains will rise on her teeth? But that qualifies her as a 6 year old not a sadist. The sadist part happens thus. She says, I wish my tooth falls when I am in an aero plane. I am like huh, where did that come from? She says the tooth will fall, then mummy will take the tooth and put in a plastic bag. Then you know the small flat place near the aero plane window, that place just where the window ends. That flat place. There we will keep the tooth… – you see still no sadisticism, only imagination wildism. - …in that place when we keep the tooth, it will fun (or some adjective like that she said) to see the tooth fairy come and take it.

There you crummy left brain bean counter bird pee cheap sadist…Beat that!

Forget who you are, see what you can be

I was always used to wonder why the Sri Lankans were having this war with the Tamilians or is it the other way around, I don’t know. It seems post independence the Sri Lankan majority largely ignored the Tamilians. The tilting point was when they made Sinhalese the only official language. This left the Tamilians with low job prospects and economic hardships. They took up arms. It takes two to tango.
Contrast this with Singapore. They had three languages at the time of independence Chinese, Malay and Tamil. In spite of a Chinese ethnic majority, the sincere efforts on the part of their premier Lee Kwan Yew to integrate all of them in to mainstream equally have seen Singapore through to their current state. I haven’t understood how we can create fights purely on ethnicity.

We have two cycles wowieeee….. My friend V-inu, upgraded his bike so he gave me his old one. This one is a 21 gear mountain bike. Pretty cool huh? Now Jispa and I can go cycling together. On Sunday morning we went for a ride in the Bhakti park garden. Very nice place for a morning ride. We got to see a few birds as well. The birds you get at Bhakti park that we have so far spotted are (in addition to sparrow and pigeons) – fish tailed drongo, magpie robin, sunbirds, pheasants crow (cookal), fan tail, koel (male and female), shikra, egrets, pariah kites (sometimes a brahminy kite flies above), common myna, red whiskered bulbuls, kingfishers, paddy bird and my favorite the Hoophoe. We also saw what I think is a water hen. We are not sure about that one. Outside in the nalla there is also the red wattled lapwing.
So going in the morning on a bicycle with Jispa is really good fun. She is able to keep pace. The 21 gears help when I go into a ridiculously low gear so as to slowly amble along with Jispa catching the sights. It’s not a place for speed cycling like which we did on Sunday around the compound wall. The gears do help keep pace with Jispa. I am looking forward to catching some time with her this way at least :)
I am an outdoors guy and I love to spend my time with my daughter playing outside cycling, walking trekking whatever. We figured that Angel (my brother’s pet dog and Jispa’s sister) goes for a walk every morning at seven, seven thirty. So today we landed at their house and woke them up at seven. This way Jispa gets 15 minutes with Angel in the garden everyday. Hopefully we can keep this going every morning. Brother dear - wakey wakey.

...ek soch hai

Third post in a row which has soch (thought) in the title... what does it say about me, my mood, the times we are in???
On Sunday we were at the place called veg falafels at colaba. We ordered a falafel and sat down. Normally the service is quick. After all it doesn’t take too much to make one. This time we waited a bit. I asked at the counter ‘what happened’. ‘sir, the falafel bullets (fried fillings) are being fried’. Ok. Then he screams across the counter ‘sir ka balls fry ho gaya kya?’ translation in English – ‘have you fried his balls yet?’ Well I sure hope not.
Jasmine had a funny observation on Saturday. We sent to see the movie Billu Barber. Nice one. We saw it in Cinemax at Sion. We had aisle seats. The seats were so jammed that if anyone were to get past it would be a complete mess. There is no way to get past without jamming you knees and feet. There were a bunch of guys next to us. First they came a bit late, squeezing inside. Then they decided to get up soon after. Huge inconvenience. They return with bagfuls of popcorn and slurpys. This time I ask them to wait. Jasmine and me get up and let them in. I was talking taking any chances on him tripping over me with the sugary slurpy in his hands. They mumble their appreciation. As we are seated jasmine whispers into my ears. They are from Delhi, she says. Hmmm… ya ok. She goes on ‘only someone from Delhi will say thank you instead of sorry when you make someone get up.’ I almost fell off the chair. The only thing that kept me there was the tight fit of the rows. Jasmine can amaze you with sharp observations from time to time.
On another note, I was talking to Sonal (she works with me). She was talking about the hot new thing catching up with wannabe parents. Genetic engineering to ensure the perfect kids. You can choose the hair color, isolate the gene for obesity etc. you know the works. She was quite aghast and was soo against it. I thought about it a bit. Being the ever so moderate that I have become I replied ‘hmm. Why you so surprised? Sure I think this genetic thing is a bit under-researched to try out on kids but, why are you so against it? We try and mould our kids into our thought processes and try and raze perfect kids in any case right now. The concept of planning kids, when to have them, is a new fangled concept. I am sure our grandmothers would have been aghast at the very concept that kids must be planned. They are gifts of the almighty and happen on their own. Today we seek out perfect kids with what we have. We try and make them into ideals that we have set ourselves. Do remember that perspectives change with passing generations. Allow for change. The core need is the same. The solutions differ. Also I have learnt to be less critical of change. Time and again, attitudes have changed. What was unacceptable in the past is matter of fact now. A bit of moderation is what I preach now. Sure have your opinion. But a bit of salt please.’
I was reading an article in the Tehelka which had a critical piece on Gandhi. The writer (S Anand) gave tons of examples of Gandhi versus Ambedkar(not exactly 'versus', but read on...). “Gandhi was essentially a social conservative. This was BR Ambedkar’s main charge against Gandhi for his endorsement of caste and varnashrama dharma”. If it is true then he is probably right. It did make me feel a bit confused about my view on the great man. But then I realized my folly. Do I like Gandhi as a person or is he to me an idea. To me Gandhi is an idea. There are, there would be many examples of him not being correct. But as I have said, those were different times and thoughts must be judged in the perspective of surroundings and eras. Even if they were really regressive and wrong, so be it. That cannot take away from something that I find true. You are entitled to your Gandhi and I am entitled to my. After all Gandhi is an idea. Another example – Jack Welch. Yup – the GE guy. You can take what you want from him, leave what you dislike, but please don’t vandalize what you don’t want. I might agree with him completely but I sure learnt some stuff from his books. As also the movie Sarkar which had Amitabh as playing the title lead – Sarkar ek soch hai.

wide angle mein soch

No wonder I am enjoying the book ‘imagining India’ by Nandan Nilekani. He is currently talking about a few ideas that have helped India and how they were looked upon as issues to be resolved in the past. To take forward my last blog entry, much younger I had a lot of hot head ideas.
I opposed people wanting to go abroad after they did their technical education in India. I supported population control measures a la Sanjay Gandhi’s forced Nasbandi program. I thought population was a nightmare. I thought migrants to the cities must be stopped etc etc.
To give me credit, at least I had a point of view. Most peers did not have a point, leave alone a view. I knew a bit because I eavesdropped, overheard conversations. Typically the most forceful of them would have impact as opposed to the milder ones with erudite backings. I too believed that Gandhi was wrong and Nehru was a moron. Too much sway very little wisdom. While my views on the former are already known (previous blogs), I see Nehruvian economics and politics in better perspective. When one does criticize someone in hindsight, one must be knowledgably to give due respect to the situation that the decisions were made in. One thing is to find fault with the decision, the other is to see what the consequences would have been instead, the third is to figure if the person made an honest error or made one in arrogance or contempt.
History also teaches us to be smarter in analyzing the current situation. Thinking changes over a period of time. What was wrong in one era would be right in another. To give an example we chided our parents for going gogogaga over Rajesh Khanna’s looks and Dev Anand’s antics. What is our explanation for having Shah Rukh Khan as our superstar?
I am making two points: one – don’t criticize without balance. Two – hold your views in perspective and have them in moderation.
Thanks Nandan for this book. I don’t know if I got the point you were making but I sure got something that I hold very valuable. I think I could empathize with this book as my generation has seen pre 91 era of ‘depravation’ and then the uncorked Genie of consumption post that. Whenever I have a conversation on how bad we had it, I will save my breath and give them your book. Its easier, better references, researched and hell it’s written by a man as intelligent as you. It can’t get better.
Also on books, reading this book I realized it is pretty useful to listen to the author and then read his book. This way you get a better perspective and can put a face, voice and most importantly tone to the book. That’s why book readings and road shows are organized I guess. In this one I was fortunate enough to organize it and be close to the author. It definitely adds a color to the reading. Good color.

Bahut bolta hai tu, chupke se soch

Sometimes one looks upon the past and looks at oneself, one almost smiles, smirks, shrugs off and wonders what happened. My arguments were so immature, the blood so hot and the belief that I was so supremely right. I also now realize that a bit of knowledge without humility is so dam dangerous. It is important to know but even more important to know that you don’t know the entire truth. No one can know the entire truth. One can only presuppose and guess. The day we realize that, we argue much less, we argue much better. We may discuss and argue on the logic but at least no heated argument ensues. Oh humility, I love. Don’t desert me ever! Hehe.
I was reading Nandan Nilekani’s book Imagining India. It starts slow and quite boring. But he does get in to grove once he starts discussing the ideas (that is the subject matter of the book). I have learnt to be patient with books. Allow the writer to hem and haw a bit in the start and then wait till he starts making the points. That’s when it gets interesting. I wouldn’t be fair to yet make a comment on it as I am still reading it but as of now, it reads well. The starting chapters have some great history built into it.
Coming back to my youth paradigms, when I grew up computers were just being introduced in India. There was this big debate on computers being the hot new thing that would take away jobs. I probably did not know whom to trust or believe. The near danger far outweighed on my mind compared to the far consequences. I was probably swayed by the Luddites (for more on Luddites, see last para) at the time. I remember once thinking that this will take so many jobs and wondering if it would really help us. But thank god I quickly got over it. Soon enough.
Also to add to my list of bullshit predictions. I thought computers were irritating and painful and how would they ever be useful to the mass. I hated the basic programming that they made us do in school. I also thought cell phones were a fancy and no one would really need one besides some really rich chappies. To give me credit, the call rates at the time were 16 bucks a minute (incoming and outgoing). I hope I am a lot more circumspect these days. I can weigh the pros and cons and then give what my current knowledge tells me, while accepting the counter logic.
Luddites – very interesting term I got while reading the book. the great thing with your black berry is the option to immediately go online and Google the term that you don’t understand.
The Luddites were a social movement of British textile artisans in the early nineteenth century who protested—often by destroying mechanized looms—against the changes produced by the Industrial Revolution, which they felt were leaving them without work. The principal objection of the Luddites was against the introduction of new wide-framed automated looms that could be operated by cheap, relatively unskilled labour, resulting in the loss of jobs for many skilled textile workers.

rail gaadi rail gaadi, chug chug chug chug chug chug chug chug

Traveling in the trains, especially long distance is probably a good way to get familiar with the changing Indian demographic and psychographics. In Diwali last we had a trip to Rishikesh. This involved traveling by the Rajdhani train to Delhi and then on by another train to Haridwar.
Diwali is a time for a lot of young employed to head home. You could see tons of twenty somethings, lugging their laptops and heading home. A lot of them had their girlfriends and boyfriends to see them off at the station. Women with laptops that are carried in a shoulder sling bag is such a dangerous thing. One shoulder the laptop, other shoulder heavy purse, heels and then the ubiquitous mobile phone conversation happening with the shoulder hunched. High probability for spondylitis. The reports of increasing incidence in younger working women getting all sorts of back injuries will definitely come in.
In any case every one seems to be on the way home. The railways have done some good things by having charging points inside the train compartments. They are useful for charging your cell phones, but the flip is that they result in constant chatter through out. There is great signal almost throughout the journey. The plug points also result in the loud Indian male groups watching movies or listening to music from their laptops. Scant regard to those around them. Music is also played from their mobile phones as if it’s a dam radio. Cell phone music is a phenomenon picking up in local trains as well. So dam irritating. Keep your music to yourself. One of these days I am going to pick up a fight with some of these characters.
Another thing I noticed is that all the women in the train (A/c compartment) exclusively use face wash as opposed to soap. The soap dish, popular in our times and seen with our type of families is now completely an endangered species. It’s a soap free world. Women use it more though but the men will not be far behind. I saw one guy who was washing his hands for more than five minutes and then was washing his face, carefully scrubbing one skin flake at a time. He must have at least 10 minutes to wash only his face. I am not exaggerating. He was clearly taking care of himself and loving it.
My wife too uses face wash and the culture seems to be spreading to Jispa and me. One wise one I once cracked – my wife uses only soap free stuff and I use only free soap, the ones I flick for free from the hotel rooms

wadaday

This Saturday was a long and tough day. I woke up early for Jispa to go to school for her sports day. After dropping her and catching breakfast jasmine and me too went for her sports day. It was quite hot and was a day for the parents to socialize, I guess. It was eye candy day for the mothers as well with Shah Rukh and Farhaan Akhthar (parents) turning up. Good family picnic. Jispa ran fast as usual and won her 50 meter dash. Though she did slow down in the end. Enough to give me a little bit of an anxious moment. In the parents race, I won this time again. Though the margin of victory was much smaller. 60 meter dashin around 7.9 seconds. Need to shave off at least a second to be faster. Also given the large number of false early starts that everyone does, it’s stupid to wait for the whistle. Next time I am running before the whistle. There – saved half a second there itself. Of all things I sprained my right shoulder while running. RIGHT SHOULDER? from a 60 meter dash? What shit is that? But if that was not enough read on.
I then got out and rushed for my cricket match at the other end of town. It was very hot and I switched on the A/C in the car. I knew that I would not get enough time to warm up so I kept it on and off at regular intervals. BIG MISTAKE. I parked and got off the car, picked up my kit (a bit heavy) and made a dash for the ground. There I strained my left side back muscle. Oh man. Fielding with it was horrible. But I guess I fielded better. Pain improves your concentration and helps you focus better. TIP OF THE DAY – smash yourself with a bat and then go on to the cricket field the next time. Luckily we won without me having to bat. That would have been terrible.
In Mumbai, cricket is mainly played at the maidans. That means matches are played with the boundaries overlapping each other. There is another pitch within your 30 yard circle. I was fielding at covers while being next to the short square leg or short cover of the other match, depending on the side they were bowling from. With the hard cricket ball, it’s a dangerous thing to do. You just hope that he does not hit a shot your way while you have been focusing on your match. I remember thinking, shit, I could get hit, I could die here. Hmm, the last blog was on dharma. Interesting blog to be the last one!. Serious. one gets philosophical on cricket grounds, especially when you are likely to be hit. The batsman on the other match was really good and he hit some real hard shots. See the image below. Those grounds are really close with matches on all the time.
With these uneven grounds you don’t even require someone to hit you from behind. Your own match can kill you. I was fielding off the square and the ball was hit to me real hard. I bent down and thanks to the uneven bounce I got hit on my thumb. Its still sore.
Then we went to a friends place for a get together that was to last late. Suddenly everyone wanted to go for a movie – Marley & me. 11.05pm show. It ended at 1 am. Was I dead at the end of it all? What a day.

Dharma

I was having a conversation with one of my kids at office. We were wondering why I might be nice to them. And I was wondering at eth motivation for the same. Especially, why should I be nice to someone who has put in their papers and would not be with me for long? I don’t think we were convinced by what we thought.

I happened to be reading Devdutt’s Book of Ram. With due respect I quote from his book:-

Destiny and desire – karma and kama, are two forces that propel the world. Destiny is a reaction, an obligation that follows an action. Desire is an aspiration that forces the world to transform in a particular way. Destiny creates fate. Desire is based on free will. We have the freedom to accept life as it is or to make it the way we want it to be.
Desire and destiny make life unpredictable and uncertain. When things change constantly, people feel insecure. When nothing is permanent, there is frustration and sorrow. In despair and disgust, humans withdraw from society and become hermits, trying to break free and understand the point of it all. But there is another choice. It is the code of conduct known as dharma.
The word Dharma is derived from the root ‘dhr’ which means ‘to uphold or stabilize or make secure’. It is a manmade construct that creates civilization, essentially a shelter against the world’s impermanent and unpredictable nature. It is created when humans look beyond self preservation and self propagation. It is created when the beneficiary of human action is not the self but others around us. One way of creating civilization is to do one’s duty, not what one wants for oneself but what one is expected to do for the larger good.

Hmmm. I get it but I still don’t get it but I get it. Did you get it?

sorry kid

Normally I am not an angry young papa to Jispa. At least I like to believe so. I do shout at her, but my personal rule is – shout only to stop something and scolding is limited to one and max two lines. Then cool down instantly and talk properly. It’s like – JISPA – DON’T TOUCH THIS, (instant cool), Jispa , please don’t do it, if you touch this you would get hurt, how many times we have told you.
Also I was getting into fights that were not my. Jasmine and Jispa are fighting and I am getting involved. I don’t even care about some of the topics. It gets highly stressful to play arbitrator. I don’t like it, but I think I see no option. I try and signal to Jasmine to let go or silently tell her my view (most of the time it’s that I am indifferent). Jasmine is right where she comes from and so is Jispa. Being a father is not easy I guess. Its really taxing.
In the middle I realized Jispa was getting very irritating. I realized that I used to slap her, mildly of course, one time too many. I don’t like giving one rapack and silencing her, unless it’s grossly really bad. I am open to talking. So I told her that now on, no slapping. It’s something that I want to keep a habit of. Absolutely no slapping unless in the rarest of rare cases, that too avoidable. I keep telling her, that I am talking, talk to me, tell me what’s on your mind, I have infinite patience for talking as long you don’t give me crap or as long you listen and respond. No faltu arguments please. And no crying when I am not scolding you or angry. If she cries, I walk.
The other thing I can’t stand is this “whaaaat” word. Everyone knows what someone means or is saying, but I can’t stand it when someone goes “whaaaat” in a condescending manner, with your eyes cocked. Talk properly. I hate the tone that means “what the fu#& is the matter now” ask properly when someone is talking properly. When someone is talking properly, respond properly. Today with V-inu we met Cute cute bingo. V-inu saw that the dog has some skin disease and advised me against touching it. I was telling Jispa about it when she went ‘what’ and before I could answer “whaaat” again. I was in the process of getting her to wash her hands with the water bottle, while talking to her. Oh I so lost it. I just can’t bear that tone. Instead of whacking her in the heat of the moment I splashed water on her. I am sorry. That I think that was worse than slapping her. She sure didn’t like it. While I can justify my anger, I think I was wrong in my reaction. Sorry kid. I screwed up. I WILL splash water on your face next time but not in anger. And please Jispa, don’t screw my happiness later on this confession or else I will jam your happiness. We are quits.

simple truths

Not that there has been a conscious need or occasion but till now Jispa has never gone alone in the lift. Whenever she goes down it has been with us. So today in the morning while Jispa was wearing her socks, I had to go down early for transferring some stuff from the boot of the car. So I told jasmine that I would down and she could send Jispa in the lift alone. First Jispa was a little circumspect but the urge to be independent triggered a mixed reaction. In the end independence won. I went down and then from top Jasmine indicated that Jispa is coming down on her own. I went near the lobby to find her coming out of the lift with a big grin on her face. She told me that she wanted to do this everyday. Sure! Its not that I don’t trust her, it’s the lift that I don’t trust. This lift is not a 100% safety record lift. We’ll see. It will be some time for us parents to grow up and relax.

Taking another shot at ‘the white tiger’, I think the publishers have not read the book completely. Adiga (on page 228), takes a barb at the business books when the protagonist says “I am aware that it is a common feature of those cellophane-wrapped business books to feature small side-bars”. Cellophane wrapped business books?? He says. Little did Adiga realize that his book would also be sold in cellophane wrapping. It is such an irritating practice. They are forcing the reader to buy on reputation and not on actual content. A book lover loves to feel the book in his hand, be for a minute with it. He shuts out the world as he feels the cover, turns over to the back. At this point he takes a decision whether to explore it further, read inside, see the chapters and then purchase it. A book lover passes over the temptation to buy it at one third the price at the pirate stall to buy a proper royalty paid edition. It is thanks to this breed that the piracy in books has not reached the proportions of piracy in music. The core target book lover is just not a cheat. But cellophane wrapping is cheating him. Every time the big brother tries to hoodwink the customer, disregards his love, habits & values…the consumer will come back with a vengeance and the big brother will not know what hit him. The music industry is suffering from their own high handedness and the need to drive the premium unnaturally high. It’s pretty stupid.
I am sure in the case of The white tiger, there are many people who believe (likeme) that a booker prize winner would be too deep, profound and would use English that no one understood. With all these shrink wrapped books on the shelves; I never had the chance to dispel my belief leading me to not buy the book. Only after it was gifted to me did I realize that it’s actually quite a decent book with simple English, highly understandable. This exactly what I was telling V-inu. It’s quite a nice simple English book. Probably Harry Potter has higher English usage. I am three fourth of the way to finish the book. so far so good. I must read one decent fiction every year.

Stick it on, dude

The protagonist in the book “the white tiger” (by aravind adiga) is a driver who is driving a Honda city car. He talks about the three magnetic stickers in his Honda city with the images of the mother goddess – Kali. This made me smile a lot. I am sure that Aravind either does not drive a Honda city (and anything similar) or more likely – he does not put magnetic stickers in his car. He probably grew up with memories of his father’s fiat or ambassador car where his dad had put in the stickers or remembers the taxi drivers driving with them.
Why do I think like this?
My dad had a fiat. It was a proud purchase. I remember him buying this second hand car and selling his Bajaj chetak scooter with a side car attached. If I am not mistaken he sold his scooter for 10-15 k and he bought the car for 90k. This purchase was important as my sister was now marriageable age and my mom wanted to show that we too own a car. “hum bhi carwalle hain” or something to that effect. A sparkling white fiat. No A/c. A fiat (correctly called the premier padmini) was preferred over the popular Maruti as it was thought to sturdy and spacious. Though we kids just wanted anything with an A/c.
Dad was the religious types. We went first to siddhivinayak ganesh temple with the new car (a tradition which I too follow). He also bought a magnetic sticker of the deity and got the priest to touch it to the deity. With the magical powers thus transferred he kept the sticker in the car, proudly stuck to the dashboard. Much later we sold the car. When I bought my first car, the Indica, my mom gave the sticker to keep in my car. To my amusement, it could no longer stick. Huh? Magnets no longer sticking? Well it’s not the magnet dummy. All these new cars have dashboards completely of plastic, including my Honda City. No magnets can ever stick there. That is why the new religious stickers come with double sided tapes and also because of the depth the dashboard allows, you now have small figurines with tapes stuck to the bottom. So much for magnetic stickers.
Adiga might be around my age and his memories of drivers loving the magnetic stickers could come from the same source – fathers with metal fiats or taxis with religious drivers. I am sure if Jispa writes a book she won’t have cars with magnetic stickers. Funny no?
But wait a minute – the white tiger is a fiction novel right? And I don’t read fiction, right? Well it got gifted to me and it won some respectability by winning a booker and my wife read it in two days flat thereby stroking my ego and its read less like fiction but more like a documentary or satire?? Nice read though. And as Tarun Tejpal preaches – read at least one fiction a year. I agree, some fictions (good ones) are not a bad read.

It hurts like hell

Cricket. Its not often these days that I get to play in the “A” team of my company, there are plenty of good players. But the team is now undergoing a challenge so as to speak. On Saturday we had a match and I was in the playing eleven as a decent player. Needing 123 to win in 20 overs, we were pretty well placed. A sudden rush of wickets and I went into bat at number 5. I was scheduled to bat in at six but I got promotes to hold the wickets. I blocked and blocked knowing that the captain wanted me to preserve my wicket. I kept talking to myself. Keeping cool, keep focused. Sing a song and keep the mind free when the ball is about to be bowled. Keep your wits about you. I was doing pretty ok, good perhaps, but my fitness failed me. Or should I say I failed my fitness. 33 and for the first time I was really tired on the field. I never was out of breath taking the second run till Saturday. I lasted for about 10 overs, taking the team to a decent but not strong enough position. I got out because I was tired. It was important for me to get out at the time as well, because I was tired. We lost by 1 run in the end. I top scored at 31. If we had won, it would have been my best innings ever. But we lost. I played well beyond my normal concentration levels, well beyond what I might have been expected. I played and outscored and kept my head better than the top players. BUT FUCKING HELL… we lost and if I was a little fitter, we would have won. I blame myself. I am SOOOO ANGRY with myself.
In corporate cricket you win some you lose some, you don’t really care too much. But on Saturday the defeat hurt. It hurt like hell. It is still hurting. Now I know what it is to really play hard, contribute and the lose. The team lost it in the intensity. We didn’t show the intensity on and off the field. But that no excuse personally. I am so bloody pissed off. Two months I had relaxed. No squash no nothing. I am starting squash today itself. I have to figure a routine for cardio in the local gym itself, swimming as well. At 33 I realised that the body can deteriorate very fast. This is not acceptable. Running 100 meters faster than other out of shape jokers is not enough. Standards have to be your own to start with. It still hurts and this defeat I will not forget for time to come. I did learn how to bat better. I don’t blame myself there. I keep learning all the time. I have had the least match experience amongst all these good players. So I give myself marks for being mentally fit.
But I regret not living the magic of being mentally and physically there. Then one will be ‘spiritually’ there. That’s a goal.

if he is in your hearts, sure he is there

Jispa has been getting stuff from Santa for some time now. She is at an interesting age. While last year she enthusiastically believed the Santa, this year she is a bit more… uh… circumspect, I guess. I asked her if she believe in him and she said I don’t know. She thinks it’s us putting the presents, but she just doesn’t know whom to believe. I am not telling her for sure. All I told her is that, did you get your present? Yeah, then who cares whether he exits or not.
This time around we went out of station for the holidays. Santa visited her there (at girnar). She had left a note for him on her white board at home and also left milk and muesli for his reindeer (our prodding for sure). This time when she came back she quite surprised to see the Santa leave a note for her on the whiteboard, though she has a niggling doubt if I wrote it. Now why on earth would I be writing notes for her? Come on, tell me… that’s not even close to my handwriting. Well ok, it’s a little like it, but hell everone crosses the t’s and dots the i’s.

Recoil Reconcile?

I read on the bus today. The following seat bench is reserved for ‘the old, the physically handicapped and women’. I don’t know women can tolerate this. When they come into office they expect to be treated on par, to be paid equally and to grow equally. I hope to understand the feminist movement, but to then see good strong able women sitting down and classified along with the old and the infirm I wonder. Why would self respecting women accept this? Good educated women must protest, must not seat themselves here and must not expect special favours. Crush hour trains having special compartments, dedicated women trains is probably good, but to classified thus is blow to the feminist movement as I see it.

A small note on Clavin and Hobbes for Jispa when she grows up - Calvin is named for a sixteenth-century theologian John Calvin who believed in predestination; while Hobbes is named after Thomas Hobbes, a seventeenth-century philosopher with a dim view of human nature. Research it up. Its good fun. Do they fit or are they the opposite or it just doesn’t matter and is one of Bill Watterson’s pranks on you.

One of the reasons Jispa loves it is the faces Calvin makes. We should train her thus:-

train tickets, anyone?

Yesterday there were scores of ticket checkers at VT station in the morning and then again in the evening. As I was standing on the platform waiting for the train I could see a large number of guys being hauled into TC’s cabin on the first platform. Chatting up with one of the TC’s I learnt quite a bit. Here are some insights into a TC’s life.
They have targets per month of collecting fines. They have to collect at least Rs. 50,000 per month as fines. That translates to at least 8 people a day. Hmmm. Interesting. The concept of a target is definitely good but it also shows the confidence of the railway authorities in the honesty of the Indian Public. They obviously believe that a TC would definitely get that amount. This leads a ticket checker to get all sorts of people. He says that there are guys who make honest mistakes and enter through the ticket holders gate and then proceed towards buying the ticket. That is also a finable offense and people get caught. He also realizes that this is probably wrong but, what to do. Rules are rules and they apply equally.
He said that this is a drive that could be on for a couple of days. Drives like these help in increasing ticket sales. The mere presence of a man in uniform will drive the person to the ticket counter. According to him the best deterrence is a couple of TC’s in uniform at the dates. That’s enough. Also when there are so many TC’s together the fine is generally paid faster. Otherwise the argument / pleading of the traveler go on and on.
Another thing was that they get more people traveling ticketless in mornings and evenings than in the middle of the day. His reason was that people are in a hurry and tend to skip the long lines at the ticket counter during rush hour and take a risk. Interesting one that. It means that the people are generally not dishonest but there is a barrier to honesty in the system. Man is honest to a point. Beyond which he is tempted to cross. The risk existed before he saw the long line at the ticket counter itself, yet he went towards it, saw it, saw his watch and then decided to take the plunge. The solution is not more TC’s but more ticket counter open at peak hours. Is a ticket checker more of value checking tickets at rush hour is he of more of value manning one more ticket counter. I think an idea on dispensing tickets faster might have greater ROI than more ticket checkers. What say?
Here is another interesting tidbit. When they catch people traveling without tickets they take them to the cabin for the fine collecting and other formalities. To ensure that these guys don’t give the slip, the TC puts his hand on the shoulder and escorts him there. This any Mumbai train traveler will tell you are a common sight. The TC was saying that such an act is very insulting for the traveler. He does not want to be seen being escorted by the TC such. What if his friends see him? He typically pleads with the TC to release the shoulder, promising that he will come along. The TC also has no option. “They run away all the time. I have to put the hand on the shoulder. That stops him. If he was so honest as to walk properly he should have been honest enough to buy the ticket in the first place. If he is dishonest with the ticket, why should I trust him not to run now?” Good counter point.
Indian railways take pride in saying that they somehow against the odds take millions of people from one corner to another against all the odds. Sure I love these engineers who quietly keep the trains running, efficiently. But one thing we miss is human design. How do we have deep understanding of the average traveler so that we make small changes and design stations so that travelers feel the clean neat well designed stations and behave well. The broken windows theory comes to mind. I think its there is some of my earlier blogs. You could look it up on Google as well. A little bit of common sense thinking a la Paco Underhill (brilliant book ‘why we buy’) might be a good idea.

read on

Jispa reads a lot and everything she can lay her hands on. Augurs well for the future but I am not day dreaming yet. Not just yet. Not having a TV is a big and important role in this. Jispa is most at home in any book shop or any book fair. As long she gets her books and a place to sit. Here is a case in point. She is at home at the strand book fair.
When we went to Bharatpur this time around, I got down at Baroda station and picked up a few books for her. She enjoyed them. I didn’t know how much she could read but I was pleasantly surprised. She is right now reading Calvin and Hobbs. I don’t believe it. She loves the looks on Calvin’s face and his antics I guess, but might not understand the subtle sub texts. But I take some false pride in knowing that Jispa will be amongst the few in her class to be reading Clavin (perhaps only) especially since Calvin’s writer made sure that there is no merchandising spin off’s and no TV cartoon shows. How will the other kids know of him? Also, me thinks that Calvin would not be the ideal role model for Jispa... right?

The recession is looming well and strongly over us and none of us are safe. While we do try to economize and be smart about what we spend, books have some how been spared the cut in my family. I am not buying books as I have too many as a backlog. I don’t like collecting books as show pieces, I like to read them. And if there is a backlog, no more new books. Also it works as an incentive to read faster, harder.

on the shoulders of giants

We had an event on Tuesday. I had the priviledge of being the top dog at the event. So in other words I got the stupid job of bring the MC. I know I can do it, but normally I am too bored to do it. This time I had no such luck and was given the job. It went off pretty well. Two speakers stood out. Nandan Nilekani and Anil Kumble. I guess I am always a sucker for people talking about their experience as opposed to bookish management theories.
While I was too much in awe of Nandan to really ask him too much; and he was also surrounded all the time, with too many senior people. What really impresses me is the fact that Nandan being a business leader still is an academic in his approach and so different from other corporates. Most corporates just love to fart and hide behind their power point presentations. Nandan is precise and clear in his thought process.
Anil Kumble was also a revelation. He was outstanding as well. I got my two fundas clarified from him. First one – What the hell is a flipper. That’s the ball that got him wickets by the bagful. He explained the same to me. The other question was more serious (or was it the other way around). I had heard of this theory through two different sources. John Buchanan – the Australian team coach had said – you dont need to motivate someone to play in the Australian team. The fact that you are in the team and playing for Australia is motivation enough. The other time I read it is when Jim Collins wrote in his seminal book (I forget which one) that you shouldn’t need to motivate employees. You need employees who are self motivated. The role of the leader is to remove demotivating factors. I had liked this and believed in it. Give the employees an honest, open, fun and fair atmosphere and you are on. I don’t like motivating people or people who sit and sulk all the time waiting for external motivation. Itna time kisse ke pass nahin hai. I posed this to Anil. His response was that people are different. Motivation is not so much a problem but what the routine could get boring after a point in time. He said that if he came in everyday and was expected to do the same thing, bowl over after over and practice the same way, then it could get boring even for the athlete. He said in the tenure of John Wright, John brought in a lot of changes in way they practiced and brought in innovation and change. – that’s an interesting thought and with a bit of introspection I found it to be true. Sure employees need to be self motivated but it’s the job of the manager to ensure that it’s not boring over a period of time. Good point. Thanks Anil. I appreciate the thought. On another note he was gracious enough to ask for feedback, which I emailed to him and then he was even more gracious enough to reply back, thanking and accepting it. I am super impressed. Celebs are too irritating normally. Here is a level headed guy. It’s no wonder he was perhaps India’s best bowler.

My anniversary was on Monday. It was our tenth anniversary. Just a day before the most important event of the year, I was a bit busy and preoccupied. But I did manage to do something before. I gifted my wife a Swiss knife with her name engraved on one of the blades. That was a perfect anniversary gift!

hey bhagwan

Its been a long time. We took a family vacation in the middle. Went to palitana, gir and bharatpur. Palitana is a Jain super temple. It sure is a nice place. You stay at the bottom of the hill and then climb up three odd thousand steps in the morning. Its quite cool in the winter and definitely climbable. The base is taleti and used to be quite a sweet place 20 years ago when I first went. Now it’s a painfully polluted place thanks to the rickshaw’s adulterating fuel with kerosene. It’s unwalkable and unbreathable. And you have every ass building a huge temple. Any one who’s been to palitana will tell you that the last thing it needs is another temple. But they sure are being built as ugly phalluses all over the pace. They are built to themselves and not to god. God happen to be an unwilling accomplice. Do I hear of schools / hospitals etc being built there? Not me. We keep building temples. The Dharamshala is built – very good, but what about the old ones that need maintenance?

We leave it all behind on top. Feel a vibe that very nice. Jispa went into the temple and saw Jasmine entering the temple without the customary three salutes. Jispa then tells me that mummy will get paap , no? hmmm. No kid. There isn’t anything like paap and puniya. Isn’t god your friend? Will he be mean to you just because you did not do something as inane like bowing down? Say hi. Be a nice person to all around, show care. That’s all there is to life. Screw these rituals.
Net result – a few days later she tells me that she doesn’t believe in God. One more conversation – why not? Who made all these trees, birds, lives etc. there is someone there doing something, making something. Some force, right? Hehehe. She was a bit confused. But atleast she got over the paap shit that was banging her head.
She is free to have her own beliefs, her own view, her own mind. As long as she has something in her head I am ok. The most important thing is to have a view that is open, informed and pluralistic. Baki sab bakwas.

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.