Jispa had her first hair day. Well not exactly that but … ok., lets start from the beginning. Everyday her mom and her would be fighting over her hair. Combing it, removing knots, they coming in her eyes etc. Being eth dad I obviously know nothing about hair care. For me any solution is simply – Shampoo it. Obviously its pretty ineffective. So every now and then I would be calling for a cease fire. Actually shouting CEASE FIRE is more like it. so I started working on Jispa to have her hair cut short. I thought of everything in the book for her to cut it shorter. That she looks pretty cute with short hair helps. So finally she agrees. But she decides the length. It her call. I am ok. She wanted to go to a particular neighborhood parlor where she used to get it trimmed. I had my doubts but let it happen. Mommy and Jispa go there while I proceed for my hair cut. Jispa like me to cut my hair short so that she can massage my head without me worrying about how I might end up looking like.
After I am through I wait for her under the building. She emerges in a really bad mood and with a few tears. What happened I ask? I look at mummy who signals a really bad mood indicator. Jispa is no mood to talk. I figure that she is very unhappy with the length. It seems that she had clearly indicated length. The stupid lady cut it in that length at the back and then cut it sorter in the front. Oh shit. Why do these idiots think? Can’t they just do as they are told? Can’t they ask? I told Jispa next time you cut it at a decent place. She was angry with everybody. Why me? I was not even there. EVERYONE… evn me because of me she cut it short. Oh ok… I am sorry. I agree it could have been cut better but it wasn’t that bad. It was pretty cute that way itself. But I guess she was in no real mood to listen. All I could tell her that the best thing with hair is that it grows. So it will be fine soon enough :). I know. I have had really bad hair cuts myself.
Luckily the art has improved over the years with a variety of styles and cuts coming in. When I was a kid the guys cutting hair were really pathetic. Trained to cut without seeing the person or the face. When you cut someone’s hair you are not cutting hair, you are giving shape to someone’s personality. The ones who understand that become stylists, the other remain butchers.
In the middle I was seriously contemplating taking up hair cutting as a part time hobby. I even inquired about the course. But hell, I just couldn’t find the time to take it up. Someday I would. Possibly after retirement, when my hands are no longer steady. Or retire before the hands get shaky I guess. Ya. That’s a better option. I will do one thing for sure, talk a lot while cutting. Especially when I am using my brains, and most important – ask again and again to be sure, when I cut someone’s hair SHORT.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
My attempt at writing stories for seven year olds - Manali in Mumbai
Manali in Mumbai
Mumbai. What a beautiful city. It is so large and full of people. You bump into people everywhere. At train stations, at bus stations, at coffee shops, everywhere. There are so many things to do, so many places to see. Yes Mumbai is a large city.
Manali was a small girl in large Mumbai. She loved her city and everything about it, but the best thing for her was Mumbai’s big huge double-decker busses. She would get her Papa to take her on the bus from home to the city end and then back again.
Waiting at the bus stop Manali would ask her papa. This one? This one? This one? Her Papa would look hard at the bus number and then pull out a piece of paper from his pocket and stare at it. He always forgot which bus number went where. So her mummy wrote out the numbers on a small piece of paper and gave it him.
One day he forgot to take the piece of paper along. Manali was very upset with him. But not for too long. She loved her Papa. She was used to Papa forgetting everything and doing silly things. One day he wore his t shirt inside out, the other day he forgot his wallet and he was always forgetting his cell phone everywhere. But Manali was a very smart girl. She would remind him about everything.
Today before they left Manali asked her papa – “did you take your wallet?” “yes” said Papa. “cap?” “yes Manali”, “cell phone, wallet, paper with bus numbers?” she went on… “yes, Manali, I took them all” As they went near the lift Manali suddenly slapped her hand on her head. “What happened, Manali. Now what did I forget?” asked her papa. “Papa” said Manali. You forgot to wear your shoes. “oops” shouted papa “thank you Manali. I would not know what to do with out you. Just don’t tell mama what I forgot this time.” Her Papa laughed.
It was a good thing that Manali now knew how to pack her bag. She was like her mummy. She was well organized and knew what went into her bag. The milk pack, a pack of biscuits, a tiffin box with two cheese sandwiches for her Papa and her, a tomato ketchup packet, a small bottle of water, binoculars and at last a napkin. She did not let silly Papa carry anything, not even the bag. Who knows where Papa would forget the bag.
Now why would a little girl like Manali carry binoculars? Binoculars helped her see things that are far very clearly. Manali always wanted to see birds clearly. But does Mumbai have any birds? Of course you can see the crows, pigeons, mynas and sparrows. But you don’t need binoculars to see that. You see them everywhere. You can see them outside your window. Put some corn outside and see them come.
But Manali’s favorite bird was a small bird, a lovely bird called the copper smith barbet. It is such a pretty bird. It is green, small with a tough short beak and has a red tuff on its head. It is difficult to see. Not too many people knew that you can see it in the city. It is well hidden inside the leaves of the peepal trees that are all over Mumbai.
But then how would Manali know its there. It was the sound of that bird that told her. What is the sound like? Well, it is called the copper smith barbet because it made a sound of a copper smith working. Go to your kitchen and ask your mummy for a copper vessel. It is a little golden in color. If you don’t have a copper vessel a heavy steel one would do, I guess. Then hold it upside down with your hand inside it. Take a spoon or any other heavy thing and bang the vessel, but not too hard. There. Tonk tonk tonk. That’s the sound of a coppersmith barbet.
Next time you roam around Mumbai, try and spot a peepal tree. It has a fat leaf with a pointy tip coming out. Wait for two minutes quietly. You might just hear a coppersmith barbet going – tonk tonk tonk. Look around you if Manali is there and you could borrow her binoculars and see the bird yourself. It is a beautiful bird.
So Manali packed all her stuff in her backpack and went off with her silly Papa to see Mumbai. They took a double decker bus to her favorite place – Chowpatty. Chowpatty beach was Manali’s favorite outdoor place. The museum was her favorite indoor place. At Chowpatty, Manali loved the sea, the waves and the wind. It was fun to go close to the sea; just enough to wet her toes and then she would close her eyes.
She would hear the waves come closer and suddenly wet her toes. This would tickle her a bit, and she would hold here papa’s hand tightly, but not open her eyes. Now wait for the next wave to come close and tickle her again. Sometimes a big wave would come in and she would jump on her papa and hang on his legs like a monkey. Then papa and Manali would laugh like crazy.
They laughed so much that mummy would look and wonder if the sea had some magical laughing gas. Papa and Manali would just not stop laughing. They would laugh all the way home. If the laughing stopped, they would look at each other and start laughing all over again. Mummy would look at them; wonder if they were all potty in the head. It was the best fun in the whole world.
At this time the chowpatty beach was even more special. It was the Ganapati festival. They were there on the fifth day. That was the day when Ganapati statues of all shape and sizes were brought to the sea for immersion. They would come in cars, carts, and trucks with all the kids, friends and land up at the beach. They would pray to the idol, give out sweets, burst a few crackers and dance a bit.
Then the men would go into the sea, carrying the statue on their heads. The people on the beach would shout out loud ‘Ganapati Bappa, moriya!’ ‘GANAPATI BAPPA, MORIYA’.. louder and louder. One dip, second dip and the third dip and they would let the statue slowly sink into the sea. Ganapati will be back next year with lots more fun. Manali really loved it all. There were so many Ganpatis all around.
Soon it was getting late and they had spent more than two hours at the beach. She had eaten her sandwiches. She had used her binoculars to see the Ganapatis being taken to the sea. It had also a rained a little that day and then when the sun came out soon after, she could see a lovely rainbow over the sea. Wow. The colorful rainbow was like the perfect cherry on what had been a lovely day.
While they were walking back from the beach Manali could see some men selling bubbles. They were selling bubble liquids in small cases. They were blowing bubbles in the wind. She stopped to see and play with the bubbles. She had to hold her silly papa and make him sit or else he would have just walked away not knowing that Manali had stopped. He was such a silly papa.
She went dancing around and jumping high and low. She wanted to touch the bubbles. But every time Manali touched a bubble. Pop, it would burst. Pop. Another one would burst. They would just keep bursting. But Manali did not want to burst them. She wanted to hold them. She wanted to keep them. She wanted a bubble that would not burst at all.
She kept trying. At first she was trying to catch them. That did not work. Then she tried chasing a bubble that floated away. Slowly, slowly she tried to put her arm around and try to stop the bubble from flying away. It still burst in her hand.
She even tried to stand like a scarecrow, very still and quiet, with her arm stretched so that a bubble can somehow slowly land in her hand and she could take it with her everywhere. But the bubble would just dash against her and pop they went.
She then had an idea. She wet her hands and tried to reach out to the bubbles. Something magic was going to happen. One big bubble floated to her hand and came to rest there. It was there for a second, two seconds. Manali was very happy. Her silly Papa who watching all this was happy. That was a bubble she could carry everywhere with her. Pop. That too burst. Manali was now getting sad.
Her papa was looking at all this silently. He called her to his side and asked her what she wanted. Manali said that she wanted a bubble that she could take with her everywhere and look at whenever she wanted.
He thought for a while. He was talking to himself. Mumble bumble trouble… he then snapped his fingers and smiled. “What?” Asked Manali, a little excited by now. “why are you smiling?”. Her Papa replied “I think I know what you are looking for. You are looking for A PERFECT BUBBLE.” “A perfect bubble? What is that?” asked Manali.
Papa slowly explained “A Perfect Bubble is a bubble that you can carry along where ever you are. You can see when ever you want to. It will always be with you”. “Yes, I want the Perfect Bubble now” said Manali.
“Then come along sit with me quietly. Now look at the man blowing bubbles. Look at him closely. Wait till he blows a big round bubble. Not an oval or a square bubble, but a BIG ROUND BUBBLE.” Manali sat next to her papa watching the bubbles come out and fly.
Small bubbles came, many bubbles came, and some were big but not round. Some were round but were not big. Some were two joined to each other. Some just broke as soon as they were made. But Manali and Papa were not going anywhere. They were waiting for the BIG ROUND BUBBLE that would become their Perfect Bubble.
Soon enough, a big bubble began to form. It was quite big. “Yes, that’s the one” said papa. “Watch it closely. See its flying. Look at the way the bubble looks. Can you see the rainbow glowing in it? The rainbow colors inside are moving. Look closely. Everything inside looks upside down. It’s floating up. Now it is floating to the left, now right. Watch closely”.
Manali was watching very closely. See could see only the bubble. Nothing but the bubble. It was truly beautiful. She could see the rainbow in it. Very clearly. The colors inside were actually moving. She could see the brown of the sand in it and the blue of the sky in it. The bubble was moving so slowly, floating as if an invisible fairy was holding it in her hand so that Manali could see it clearly. It was not just a Big Round Bubble. It was THE PERFECT BUBBLE.
While the bubble was still floating, she heard her Papa say “now close your eyes slowly and try to remember the perfect bubble”. Manali closed her eyes. Yes. The Perfect Bubble was there. It was clear. She could see it. Floating, flying. The rainbow was there as well. Its colors were still moving inside. The Brown and the Blue was still there. Wow…
Her Papa was the best silly Papa in the whole world. Now the Perfect Bubble would always be with her, wherever she went. In the bathroom, on the stool, in the kitchen, on the table, in the school, on the terrace or even at the zoo. She could see The Perfect Bubble whenever she wanted. All she had to do was close her eyes.
----
Mumbai. What a beautiful city. It is so large and full of people. You bump into people everywhere. At train stations, at bus stations, at coffee shops, everywhere. There are so many things to do, so many places to see. Yes Mumbai is a large city.
Manali was a small girl in large Mumbai. She loved her city and everything about it, but the best thing for her was Mumbai’s big huge double-decker busses. She would get her Papa to take her on the bus from home to the city end and then back again.
Waiting at the bus stop Manali would ask her papa. This one? This one? This one? Her Papa would look hard at the bus number and then pull out a piece of paper from his pocket and stare at it. He always forgot which bus number went where. So her mummy wrote out the numbers on a small piece of paper and gave it him.
One day he forgot to take the piece of paper along. Manali was very upset with him. But not for too long. She loved her Papa. She was used to Papa forgetting everything and doing silly things. One day he wore his t shirt inside out, the other day he forgot his wallet and he was always forgetting his cell phone everywhere. But Manali was a very smart girl. She would remind him about everything.
Today before they left Manali asked her papa – “did you take your wallet?” “yes” said Papa. “cap?” “yes Manali”, “cell phone, wallet, paper with bus numbers?” she went on… “yes, Manali, I took them all” As they went near the lift Manali suddenly slapped her hand on her head. “What happened, Manali. Now what did I forget?” asked her papa. “Papa” said Manali. You forgot to wear your shoes. “oops” shouted papa “thank you Manali. I would not know what to do with out you. Just don’t tell mama what I forgot this time.” Her Papa laughed.
It was a good thing that Manali now knew how to pack her bag. She was like her mummy. She was well organized and knew what went into her bag. The milk pack, a pack of biscuits, a tiffin box with two cheese sandwiches for her Papa and her, a tomato ketchup packet, a small bottle of water, binoculars and at last a napkin. She did not let silly Papa carry anything, not even the bag. Who knows where Papa would forget the bag.
Now why would a little girl like Manali carry binoculars? Binoculars helped her see things that are far very clearly. Manali always wanted to see birds clearly. But does Mumbai have any birds? Of course you can see the crows, pigeons, mynas and sparrows. But you don’t need binoculars to see that. You see them everywhere. You can see them outside your window. Put some corn outside and see them come.
But Manali’s favorite bird was a small bird, a lovely bird called the copper smith barbet. It is such a pretty bird. It is green, small with a tough short beak and has a red tuff on its head. It is difficult to see. Not too many people knew that you can see it in the city. It is well hidden inside the leaves of the peepal trees that are all over Mumbai.
But then how would Manali know its there. It was the sound of that bird that told her. What is the sound like? Well, it is called the copper smith barbet because it made a sound of a copper smith working. Go to your kitchen and ask your mummy for a copper vessel. It is a little golden in color. If you don’t have a copper vessel a heavy steel one would do, I guess. Then hold it upside down with your hand inside it. Take a spoon or any other heavy thing and bang the vessel, but not too hard. There. Tonk tonk tonk. That’s the sound of a coppersmith barbet.
Next time you roam around Mumbai, try and spot a peepal tree. It has a fat leaf with a pointy tip coming out. Wait for two minutes quietly. You might just hear a coppersmith barbet going – tonk tonk tonk. Look around you if Manali is there and you could borrow her binoculars and see the bird yourself. It is a beautiful bird.
So Manali packed all her stuff in her backpack and went off with her silly Papa to see Mumbai. They took a double decker bus to her favorite place – Chowpatty. Chowpatty beach was Manali’s favorite outdoor place. The museum was her favorite indoor place. At Chowpatty, Manali loved the sea, the waves and the wind. It was fun to go close to the sea; just enough to wet her toes and then she would close her eyes.
She would hear the waves come closer and suddenly wet her toes. This would tickle her a bit, and she would hold here papa’s hand tightly, but not open her eyes. Now wait for the next wave to come close and tickle her again. Sometimes a big wave would come in and she would jump on her papa and hang on his legs like a monkey. Then papa and Manali would laugh like crazy.
They laughed so much that mummy would look and wonder if the sea had some magical laughing gas. Papa and Manali would just not stop laughing. They would laugh all the way home. If the laughing stopped, they would look at each other and start laughing all over again. Mummy would look at them; wonder if they were all potty in the head. It was the best fun in the whole world.
At this time the chowpatty beach was even more special. It was the Ganapati festival. They were there on the fifth day. That was the day when Ganapati statues of all shape and sizes were brought to the sea for immersion. They would come in cars, carts, and trucks with all the kids, friends and land up at the beach. They would pray to the idol, give out sweets, burst a few crackers and dance a bit.
Then the men would go into the sea, carrying the statue on their heads. The people on the beach would shout out loud ‘Ganapati Bappa, moriya!’ ‘GANAPATI BAPPA, MORIYA’.. louder and louder. One dip, second dip and the third dip and they would let the statue slowly sink into the sea. Ganapati will be back next year with lots more fun. Manali really loved it all. There were so many Ganpatis all around.
Soon it was getting late and they had spent more than two hours at the beach. She had eaten her sandwiches. She had used her binoculars to see the Ganapatis being taken to the sea. It had also a rained a little that day and then when the sun came out soon after, she could see a lovely rainbow over the sea. Wow. The colorful rainbow was like the perfect cherry on what had been a lovely day.
While they were walking back from the beach Manali could see some men selling bubbles. They were selling bubble liquids in small cases. They were blowing bubbles in the wind. She stopped to see and play with the bubbles. She had to hold her silly papa and make him sit or else he would have just walked away not knowing that Manali had stopped. He was such a silly papa.
She went dancing around and jumping high and low. She wanted to touch the bubbles. But every time Manali touched a bubble. Pop, it would burst. Pop. Another one would burst. They would just keep bursting. But Manali did not want to burst them. She wanted to hold them. She wanted to keep them. She wanted a bubble that would not burst at all.
She kept trying. At first she was trying to catch them. That did not work. Then she tried chasing a bubble that floated away. Slowly, slowly she tried to put her arm around and try to stop the bubble from flying away. It still burst in her hand.
She even tried to stand like a scarecrow, very still and quiet, with her arm stretched so that a bubble can somehow slowly land in her hand and she could take it with her everywhere. But the bubble would just dash against her and pop they went.
She then had an idea. She wet her hands and tried to reach out to the bubbles. Something magic was going to happen. One big bubble floated to her hand and came to rest there. It was there for a second, two seconds. Manali was very happy. Her silly Papa who watching all this was happy. That was a bubble she could carry everywhere with her. Pop. That too burst. Manali was now getting sad.
Her papa was looking at all this silently. He called her to his side and asked her what she wanted. Manali said that she wanted a bubble that she could take with her everywhere and look at whenever she wanted.
He thought for a while. He was talking to himself. Mumble bumble trouble… he then snapped his fingers and smiled. “What?” Asked Manali, a little excited by now. “why are you smiling?”. Her Papa replied “I think I know what you are looking for. You are looking for A PERFECT BUBBLE.” “A perfect bubble? What is that?” asked Manali.
Papa slowly explained “A Perfect Bubble is a bubble that you can carry along where ever you are. You can see when ever you want to. It will always be with you”. “Yes, I want the Perfect Bubble now” said Manali.
“Then come along sit with me quietly. Now look at the man blowing bubbles. Look at him closely. Wait till he blows a big round bubble. Not an oval or a square bubble, but a BIG ROUND BUBBLE.” Manali sat next to her papa watching the bubbles come out and fly.
Small bubbles came, many bubbles came, and some were big but not round. Some were round but were not big. Some were two joined to each other. Some just broke as soon as they were made. But Manali and Papa were not going anywhere. They were waiting for the BIG ROUND BUBBLE that would become their Perfect Bubble.
Soon enough, a big bubble began to form. It was quite big. “Yes, that’s the one” said papa. “Watch it closely. See its flying. Look at the way the bubble looks. Can you see the rainbow glowing in it? The rainbow colors inside are moving. Look closely. Everything inside looks upside down. It’s floating up. Now it is floating to the left, now right. Watch closely”.
Manali was watching very closely. See could see only the bubble. Nothing but the bubble. It was truly beautiful. She could see the rainbow in it. Very clearly. The colors inside were actually moving. She could see the brown of the sand in it and the blue of the sky in it. The bubble was moving so slowly, floating as if an invisible fairy was holding it in her hand so that Manali could see it clearly. It was not just a Big Round Bubble. It was THE PERFECT BUBBLE.
While the bubble was still floating, she heard her Papa say “now close your eyes slowly and try to remember the perfect bubble”. Manali closed her eyes. Yes. The Perfect Bubble was there. It was clear. She could see it. Floating, flying. The rainbow was there as well. Its colors were still moving inside. The Brown and the Blue was still there. Wow…
Her Papa was the best silly Papa in the whole world. Now the Perfect Bubble would always be with her, wherever she went. In the bathroom, on the stool, in the kitchen, on the table, in the school, on the terrace or even at the zoo. She could see The Perfect Bubble whenever she wanted. All she had to do was close her eyes.
----
Mangala ho
Mangalsutra not a must for Hindu marriage: High Court - saying it was not mandatory for the groom to tie a 'mangalsutra' around the bride's neck to prove a marriage between Hindus.
People take anything to the court. Jasmine does not wear any symbol of marriage (and neither do I). In fact I don’t even remember if I tied a mangalsutra. Might have... might not have, but one thing is for sure, she doesn’t roam around with it. I don’t remember if we gave her an engagement ring also. And the ring I got for my marriage is practically unwearable. It’s that ugly.
The story of that ring goes thus – Jasmine’s mom wanted to take my measurement to get me a ring. I refused to give the measurement saying I don’t want a ring. Why don’t they just take Jasmine’s measurement and give the dam ring to her. At least it will get worn. Also I didn’t particularly like the concept of getting anything from the bride’s family. My theory was simple. You can give whatever you want to her, spare me. I don’t even want to know. Then when I reached home my mom asked me “you didn’t give your measurement?” “No, how did you know?” “They called” “ya, I told them to give the ring to Jasmine. I don’t want any of it”. Mom figured it’s a futile argument with me. Dad took me aside and spoke something to this effect “I understand and appreciate your values. But also do realize that their parents have certain aspirations and dreams. Sometimes it does not make sense to fight it. You can always give the ring back to Jasmine. No body forces you to wear it.” … hmmmm… penny drops. I give measurement. I get a hideous ring in return. A golden ring with nine diamonds on it. I am not wearing that one for sure. What a waste of emotion.
Coming back to marriage symbols. I never did want Jasmine to wear any symbol that showed her betrothal to the world. It’s her choice. No sindoor, no ring, no mangalsutra, no nose ring.. On our honeymoon, she was in denims, t shirts and a back pack. So was I. Since this trip was not immediately after the marriage there was no mehendi on her hands as well. Amongst the places we visited was a beautiful temple village called Jageshwar in Kumaon. A very pretty temple complex amongst huge Deodhar trees. With very few devotees there was no jostling around the sanctum sanctorum while the evening puja was happening. We were along with one more couple inside. After the puja, we were making our way towards the hotel when the other couple (locals from around) offered us a lift to the hotel. While we got talking the guy asked me “are you guys hindus?” “yup we are” Jainism could loosely be called Hinduism I guess. “aaa, don’t mind, but is she… uu.. are you married?” “ya. She is my wife” “sorry, we were only asking because we were wondering because there is no sindoor, no mangalsutra, no nose ring, no…” I could only laugh. I told them we don’t have anything like that and we don’t really believe in it. What to do?
People take anything to the court. Jasmine does not wear any symbol of marriage (and neither do I). In fact I don’t even remember if I tied a mangalsutra. Might have... might not have, but one thing is for sure, she doesn’t roam around with it. I don’t remember if we gave her an engagement ring also. And the ring I got for my marriage is practically unwearable. It’s that ugly.
The story of that ring goes thus – Jasmine’s mom wanted to take my measurement to get me a ring. I refused to give the measurement saying I don’t want a ring. Why don’t they just take Jasmine’s measurement and give the dam ring to her. At least it will get worn. Also I didn’t particularly like the concept of getting anything from the bride’s family. My theory was simple. You can give whatever you want to her, spare me. I don’t even want to know. Then when I reached home my mom asked me “you didn’t give your measurement?” “No, how did you know?” “They called” “ya, I told them to give the ring to Jasmine. I don’t want any of it”. Mom figured it’s a futile argument with me. Dad took me aside and spoke something to this effect “I understand and appreciate your values. But also do realize that their parents have certain aspirations and dreams. Sometimes it does not make sense to fight it. You can always give the ring back to Jasmine. No body forces you to wear it.” … hmmmm… penny drops. I give measurement. I get a hideous ring in return. A golden ring with nine diamonds on it. I am not wearing that one for sure. What a waste of emotion.
Coming back to marriage symbols. I never did want Jasmine to wear any symbol that showed her betrothal to the world. It’s her choice. No sindoor, no ring, no mangalsutra, no nose ring.. On our honeymoon, she was in denims, t shirts and a back pack. So was I. Since this trip was not immediately after the marriage there was no mehendi on her hands as well. Amongst the places we visited was a beautiful temple village called Jageshwar in Kumaon. A very pretty temple complex amongst huge Deodhar trees. With very few devotees there was no jostling around the sanctum sanctorum while the evening puja was happening. We were along with one more couple inside. After the puja, we were making our way towards the hotel when the other couple (locals from around) offered us a lift to the hotel. While we got talking the guy asked me “are you guys hindus?” “yup we are” Jainism could loosely be called Hinduism I guess. “aaa, don’t mind, but is she… uu.. are you married?” “ya. She is my wife” “sorry, we were only asking because we were wondering because there is no sindoor, no mangalsutra, no nose ring, no…” I could only laugh. I told them we don’t have anything like that and we don’t really believe in it. What to do?
Thursday, July 16, 2009
kaalia management
I have a new technique in management. MPF - Management by Poker Face. Whenever the kids come to me asking for help on a certain issue, I am going to just maintain the same face. Poker face. I did that a few times already. They come with a problem, they look at me, don’t get reaction, they walk away with an answer in their head. It’s that simple. No use of any subliminal techniques, no ESP, nothing. Just keep on doing what you were doing. Don’t ignore. Just keep the poker face. Don’t show any reaction. That’s it. people will magically grow up. They suddenly come to you less often. They take more decisions themselves. Things happen. Taking charge happens. Wow…
The next technique I want to apply is kaalia management. Whenever anyone comes to me with an issue I will simply look at the person squarely in the eye… hold it for a second… gaze upwards and say “you dip in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”. That’s it. Then turn away look somewhere else, walk away, type away. I think the key is the way you say it. It must sound profound enough. I am going to try this often. “.”
Do not take this portentous line lightly (I just learnt that word; I hope I am using it rightly. It means ominously prophetic). There is deep wisdom and reference from where I learnt it as an eight year old. My brother and sister burst out laughing every time I use it. We get hysterical and everyone around us fails to see the prophecy hidden within the line.
I will let you know what happens when I start using the kaalia technique to management.
Oh but you really do want to know what exactly the line means. Well here “you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”
The next technique I want to apply is kaalia management. Whenever anyone comes to me with an issue I will simply look at the person squarely in the eye… hold it for a second… gaze upwards and say “you dip in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”. That’s it. Then turn away look somewhere else, walk away, type away. I think the key is the way you say it. It must sound profound enough. I am going to try this often. “.”
Do not take this portentous line lightly (I just learnt that word; I hope I am using it rightly. It means ominously prophetic). There is deep wisdom and reference from where I learnt it as an eight year old. My brother and sister burst out laughing every time I use it. We get hysterical and everyone around us fails to see the prophecy hidden within the line.
I will let you know what happens when I start using the kaalia technique to management.
Oh but you really do want to know what exactly the line means. Well here “you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
open up
While doing some general researching I came across this interesting study
A new kind of economic indicator
By Richard Florida
In 2007 Charlotta Mellander and I examined how various regional factors shape housing prices. We found that two factors combine to shape them. The first is pretty obvious: income. The wealthier the residents, the pricier the housing. The second and much larger factor is reflected by our Bohemian–Gay Index, which combines the concentration of artists, musicians, and designers with the concentration of gays and lesbians in a region. Regardless of which variables we applied, what version of the model we used, or which regions we looked at, the concentration of bohemians and gays consistently had a staggering impact on housing values.
We found that the presence of these populations had direct effects on housing values as well as other locational variables (like income and human capital), making these places more attractive to other populations and demographics. In other words, the presence of these groups not only made housing values rise, it made incomes rise as well.
Why would this be? Our theory is that bohemian and gay populations capitalize on two distinct factors of high-value housing. The first is an aesthetic–amenity premium. Artists and bohemians not only produce amenities but are attracted to places that have them. As selective buyers with eyes for amenity, authenticity, and aesthetics, they tend to concentrate in places where these things abound. The second is a tolerance or open-culture premium. Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines. Artistic and gay populations also cluster in communities that value open-mindedness and self-expression.
And their status as historically marginalized groups means that artistic and gay populations tend to be highly self-reliant and receptive to newcomers. They’ve had to build networks from scratch, mobilize resources independently, and create their own organizations and companies.
For all of these reasons, regions where artists and gays have migrated and settled are more likely than others to place high premiums on innovation, entrepreneurship, and new-company formation. It’s not that gays and bohemians drive up housing simply by paying more; their effect on housing prices is far less direct. Bohemian and gay residents drive up housing value because they make areas that were already ripe for growth even more desirable, and to a greater number of people.
This sidebar is excerpted from Florida’s recent book Who’s Your City? How the Creative Economy Is Making Where You Live the Most Important Decision of Your Life.
Source http://whatmatters.mckinseydigital.com/innovation/a-new-kind-of-economic-indicator
-------
They are right. Open cultures and communities would always do better than closed ones. This would reflect in all sorts of economic indicators. It seems to be empirical proof of the point I have been trying to make. Openness is a must in our mindsets. Even for selfish reasons: Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines.
The US was built by a steady stream of enterprising immigrants who fueled its bio-diverse populace and allowed to attract some of the best brains in the business. For rock solid proof we might do well to research the Manhattan Project or even see the mix in the Silicon Valley. Openness begets openness. What you want in life? To be surrounded by narrow minded backward looking bigots that seek to protect the gene pool as if it were nectar or be surrounded by open forward looking people who are able to break conventions, ask why not and challenge not only themselves but those around them. Do you get better by gazing at your navel or by looking and learning from those around you? Open up. Be ready to accept new ideas, cultures, habits, technology and quirks. I am amazed by the response of the world and those around me at times. Why would they so want to hold on to status quo? I think they might be pressured into giving a response and that’s why they might be using the safe route and stonewalling anything new. I normally use the words ‘I don’t know; guess it works for some’. Not all new is good, the same way not all new is bad. It’s better to buy time, research, understand consequences and then have an opinion. Till then it’s better to admit ignorance.
Now that’s ironic. A lot of blog posts of mine are highly opinionated. Take the one before last. I had an opinion on a life décor, of all things a bloody lift! How does that really matter?
The disclaimer is thus. I really don’t have as strong an opinion as might be reflected in the blog. But a exaggerated pot shot at something odd does make for good copy. Forgive me.
A new kind of economic indicator
By Richard Florida
In 2007 Charlotta Mellander and I examined how various regional factors shape housing prices. We found that two factors combine to shape them. The first is pretty obvious: income. The wealthier the residents, the pricier the housing. The second and much larger factor is reflected by our Bohemian–Gay Index, which combines the concentration of artists, musicians, and designers with the concentration of gays and lesbians in a region. Regardless of which variables we applied, what version of the model we used, or which regions we looked at, the concentration of bohemians and gays consistently had a staggering impact on housing values.
We found that the presence of these populations had direct effects on housing values as well as other locational variables (like income and human capital), making these places more attractive to other populations and demographics. In other words, the presence of these groups not only made housing values rise, it made incomes rise as well.
Why would this be? Our theory is that bohemian and gay populations capitalize on two distinct factors of high-value housing. The first is an aesthetic–amenity premium. Artists and bohemians not only produce amenities but are attracted to places that have them. As selective buyers with eyes for amenity, authenticity, and aesthetics, they tend to concentrate in places where these things abound. The second is a tolerance or open-culture premium. Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines. Artistic and gay populations also cluster in communities that value open-mindedness and self-expression.
And their status as historically marginalized groups means that artistic and gay populations tend to be highly self-reliant and receptive to newcomers. They’ve had to build networks from scratch, mobilize resources independently, and create their own organizations and companies.
For all of these reasons, regions where artists and gays have migrated and settled are more likely than others to place high premiums on innovation, entrepreneurship, and new-company formation. It’s not that gays and bohemians drive up housing simply by paying more; their effect on housing prices is far less direct. Bohemian and gay residents drive up housing value because they make areas that were already ripe for growth even more desirable, and to a greater number of people.
This sidebar is excerpted from Florida’s recent book Who’s Your City? How the Creative Economy Is Making Where You Live the Most Important Decision of Your Life.
Source http://whatmatters.mckinseydigital.com/innovation/a-new-kind-of-economic-indicator
-------
They are right. Open cultures and communities would always do better than closed ones. This would reflect in all sorts of economic indicators. It seems to be empirical proof of the point I have been trying to make. Openness is a must in our mindsets. Even for selfish reasons: Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines.
The US was built by a steady stream of enterprising immigrants who fueled its bio-diverse populace and allowed to attract some of the best brains in the business. For rock solid proof we might do well to research the Manhattan Project or even see the mix in the Silicon Valley. Openness begets openness. What you want in life? To be surrounded by narrow minded backward looking bigots that seek to protect the gene pool as if it were nectar or be surrounded by open forward looking people who are able to break conventions, ask why not and challenge not only themselves but those around them. Do you get better by gazing at your navel or by looking and learning from those around you? Open up. Be ready to accept new ideas, cultures, habits, technology and quirks. I am amazed by the response of the world and those around me at times. Why would they so want to hold on to status quo? I think they might be pressured into giving a response and that’s why they might be using the safe route and stonewalling anything new. I normally use the words ‘I don’t know; guess it works for some’. Not all new is good, the same way not all new is bad. It’s better to buy time, research, understand consequences and then have an opinion. Till then it’s better to admit ignorance.
Now that’s ironic. A lot of blog posts of mine are highly opinionated. Take the one before last. I had an opinion on a life décor, of all things a bloody lift! How does that really matter?
The disclaimer is thus. I really don’t have as strong an opinion as might be reflected in the blog. But a exaggerated pot shot at something odd does make for good copy. Forgive me.
handle on life
Google analytics is such a useful tool to put on your blog. It gives you tons of visitor statistics, which pages are popular, where readers come from etc etc. Its fun having this information and I have put these codes up sometime back. But then again, why should I be so enamored by it? My core target is Jispa. If I choose to play to the gallery, that would defeat the entire purpose and authenticity of the blog, wouldn’t it? Sure you are welcome. All can read. It is an open blog, but the writing must personal and to my mind directed. Would I have been able to keep this going otherwise? I don’t think so.
The birth of child is the death of the father. Somebody told me that kabir said so. The moment your child is born you start living your child’s life, you are ready to give up your life for your child, so in effect you are dead in that way.
A child changes you in many ways that one cannot fathom. This time when we went on a vacation to the north I had a bad back. It is a muscle injury in the lower back. Quite painful, especially while sitting. Pretty ok while walking or standing. But it starts hurting a bit while trekking, climbing. This vacation gave us plenty to do just that. Every time we would go trekking it would start with a niggle. A lot of the walking was through narrow paths with a steep slide on one side. To make matters worse the walking was on dry leaves which aren’t exactly great for grip. Being daddy, I love the responsibility of holding Jispa through all this, and I was not going to let my back come in the way. So I was holding Jispa all the time. It is then I realized that a daughter’s hand is a magic wand. My back pain disappeared when I held her hand. How could my back pain when I have to take care of Jispa. It’s just not possible. Together we took on steep inclines, steps, jumps, slips and everything that Mother Nature threw at us. At one point in Jilling, we had hailstones coming down with the temperature dipping. But with my little magic wand in my hand we just kept going. No pain.
But this is not a one way street. After we came back, Jispa pretty much refused to sleep alone in the separate room. She kept trying to slip into our bed. She is now quite big and we all don’t fit, especially considering the painful back. It’s quite a task of convincing her. Now the new thing is that she will not sleep in her bed on her own. You have to lie down next to her and make her sleep. Once she is asleep, you can proceed to catch your sleep on your bed. You read a bit, she reads a bit. Then she closes her eyes and sleeps. She says if we are not there then she does not get sleep fast. It takes a lot of time. Yesterday while I was beside her, she was quite irritated. There was a song in her head which she just couldn’t shake off. I think it was Billo rani or something like that. With that song in her head at night, no wonder she was irritated. So then I read her a few stories, hugged her a bit, get hugged back in return and then she got her sleep. Magic works both ways.
The theme song for parenting is not so different from this evergreen song. Its also a solution to most parenting issues. Both ways!
The birth of child is the death of the father. Somebody told me that kabir said so. The moment your child is born you start living your child’s life, you are ready to give up your life for your child, so in effect you are dead in that way.
A child changes you in many ways that one cannot fathom. This time when we went on a vacation to the north I had a bad back. It is a muscle injury in the lower back. Quite painful, especially while sitting. Pretty ok while walking or standing. But it starts hurting a bit while trekking, climbing. This vacation gave us plenty to do just that. Every time we would go trekking it would start with a niggle. A lot of the walking was through narrow paths with a steep slide on one side. To make matters worse the walking was on dry leaves which aren’t exactly great for grip. Being daddy, I love the responsibility of holding Jispa through all this, and I was not going to let my back come in the way. So I was holding Jispa all the time. It is then I realized that a daughter’s hand is a magic wand. My back pain disappeared when I held her hand. How could my back pain when I have to take care of Jispa. It’s just not possible. Together we took on steep inclines, steps, jumps, slips and everything that Mother Nature threw at us. At one point in Jilling, we had hailstones coming down with the temperature dipping. But with my little magic wand in my hand we just kept going. No pain.
But this is not a one way street. After we came back, Jispa pretty much refused to sleep alone in the separate room. She kept trying to slip into our bed. She is now quite big and we all don’t fit, especially considering the painful back. It’s quite a task of convincing her. Now the new thing is that she will not sleep in her bed on her own. You have to lie down next to her and make her sleep. Once she is asleep, you can proceed to catch your sleep on your bed. You read a bit, she reads a bit. Then she closes her eyes and sleeps. She says if we are not there then she does not get sleep fast. It takes a lot of time. Yesterday while I was beside her, she was quite irritated. There was a song in her head which she just couldn’t shake off. I think it was Billo rani or something like that. With that song in her head at night, no wonder she was irritated. So then I read her a few stories, hugged her a bit, get hugged back in return and then she got her sleep. Magic works both ways.
The theme song for parenting is not so different from this evergreen song. Its also a solution to most parenting issues. Both ways!
Monday, July 13, 2009
gilt edged?
A building I went to was pretty hep. How do I know? Look at the lift. People will go to any length to feel hep. In this case luxurious opulent and wasteful as well. This lift had claustrophobically dark mahogany paneling with gold trimmings. GOLD!??!! The last time I saw such décor it was in a seventies Amitabh flick where such sets were used to denote the villain’s den. In those days if you were rich you were the villain - period. Sure the times have changed and you have outrageously rich heroes being accepted. But this lift was a symbol of …. of something heinous I guess. I expected Ajit to walk in at the next floor wearing white shoes and a white top hat. Even the mirror had a golden sheen making the whole thing very dark and yellow? It made me feel that the whole thing will slowly start to push in and crush me alive. Hahahhaha (that’s the villain laughing). A remnant of another heinous torture chamber used by Amjad Khan (I think) in another one of that eighties Amitabh flicks.
Ok I am over reacting. So I hate gold. By all means use it on yourself, in your houses, in your bedroom and fulfill all your kitsch. But please spare us the lift. Excuse the ugly use of the pun but I can’t help saying - Thodi si lift kara de.
Ok I am over reacting. So I hate gold. By all means use it on yourself, in your houses, in your bedroom and fulfill all your kitsch. But please spare us the lift. Excuse the ugly use of the pun but I can’t help saying - Thodi si lift kara de.
Friday, July 10, 2009
time to change times?
After reading the Bob Dylan post, v-inu was like ‘my firend is listening to Bob Dylan!!! What happened to you?’ I think he was wondering if I had gotten potty in the head (for those wondering where they have heard the phrase, credits - Bill Waterston). The answer is guilty as charged with a slight variation on the crime. I dint get potty in the head – I always was potty in the head. Odd heads attract. That why we are still friends, you fiend. Before you point out, noopes, that is not a spelling error, you fiend. Add Dinesh to the equation and you have the cone heads.
So in continuation of my new found passion, here is more Bob Dylan. Learning from mistakes of the last experience I am not over theorizing. In fact I am not theorizing at all. The words of Umberto Eco come to mind - "I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth. "
So hence I am merely reproducing the lyrics of – The times they are a changing. Quite nice poetry. I wonder why popular culture is shunned by the text books. We had the bal bharati series of text books with only works of poets that had died at least a 100 years ago. Don’t get me wrong. They were pretty ok, even inspiring and interesting at times but wouldn’t Bob Dylan in there be cool? I can even imagine my poetry teachers getting a guitar and a harmonica to class and singing the songs. Ok on second thoughts – I don’t want THEM to sing it. It would have made poor Bob uncool. But you get the point.
So before I introduce Bob let me introduce you to some of the poetry I remember reading / learning.
William Wordsworth (1770 –1850)
The Solitary Reaper
BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
I loved this one. I was in love with the solitary reaper. Well yah, in love with the image of the solitary reaper that I had in my mind. This poem stirred up all the newly found hormones of a 14 year old.
------------------------------------------
The next one was a favorite then and is a favorite now. This I knew by rote then and I often quote from it now. It was an inspiring one. I quite liked it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to youIs worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
Now that would be pretty cool. Have this in the text book and also have the audio visual play.
As for now – I am inspired enough to play cowboy and shoot with my mouse.
So in continuation of my new found passion, here is more Bob Dylan. Learning from mistakes of the last experience I am not over theorizing. In fact I am not theorizing at all. The words of Umberto Eco come to mind - "I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth. "
So hence I am merely reproducing the lyrics of – The times they are a changing. Quite nice poetry. I wonder why popular culture is shunned by the text books. We had the bal bharati series of text books with only works of poets that had died at least a 100 years ago. Don’t get me wrong. They were pretty ok, even inspiring and interesting at times but wouldn’t Bob Dylan in there be cool? I can even imagine my poetry teachers getting a guitar and a harmonica to class and singing the songs. Ok on second thoughts – I don’t want THEM to sing it. It would have made poor Bob uncool. But you get the point.
So before I introduce Bob let me introduce you to some of the poetry I remember reading / learning.
William Wordsworth (1770 –1850)
The Solitary Reaper
BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
I loved this one. I was in love with the solitary reaper. Well yah, in love with the image of the solitary reaper that I had in my mind. This poem stirred up all the newly found hormones of a 14 year old.
------------------------------------------
The next one was a favorite then and is a favorite now. This I knew by rote then and I often quote from it now. It was an inspiring one. I quite liked it.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us further than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act -- act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait
-------------------------------------------------------
The next one appealed to my nationalist tendencies. I was a staunch nationalist. I wanted to join the army. I also completed my C certificate in the National Cadet Corps. I still remember my number - No 1 Mah Air Sqd 91/105601. I am a bit more ambivalent or should I say pragmatic about nationalism now.
Sir Walter Scott – (1771- 1832)
This is my own native land
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land!"
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.
----------------------------
And now let’s have Bob Dylan. He would have been able to hold his own in face of the older greats. At least in the high school text books for sure.
Bob Dylan (1941 - )
The Times They Are A-Changin'
The next one appealed to my nationalist tendencies. I was a staunch nationalist. I wanted to join the army. I also completed my C certificate in the National Cadet Corps. I still remember my number - No 1 Mah Air Sqd 91/105601. I am a bit more ambivalent or should I say pragmatic about nationalism now.
Sir Walter Scott – (1771- 1832)
This is my own native land
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own, my native land!"
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.
----------------------------
And now let’s have Bob Dylan. He would have been able to hold his own in face of the older greats. At least in the high school text books for sure.
Bob Dylan (1941 - )
The Times They Are A-Changin'
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to youIs worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road isRapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road isRapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.
Now that would be pretty cool. Have this in the text book and also have the audio visual play.
As for now – I am inspired enough to play cowboy and shoot with my mouse.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
'spaced out' offices
Farms, cubicle farms… the other day I had the opportunity to go visit our brand new office building at goregaon. At the very edge of Goregaon. Beyond which you spit into Borivili national park. I had heard that the place is huge with very large floor plates, but I still was a bit overwhelmed by the size when I saw it first hand. I had first joined the company when we might have been less than two thousand odd employees (we are now 15,000). So seeing so many heads was quite a different experience.
But the lack of imagination in designing the floor plan was of another order altogether. I really don’t know why there is absolute lack of imagination when putting people together to work. We tend to think that when the scale is large - think poultry farming. Is it because we still have not lost our farming instincts over all these years? The standard massive cubicle farms in the middle with cabins at the side. Chicken in the middle with cow shed on the sides.
An absolute lack of design and thought. Who do you blame, the architect? What about the philistines who commissioned it. If you ask for garbage you will get it. The poor admin guys have no poetry. If they had any would they wouldn’t be happy doing an admin job. Their brief will also be straightforward. Get me a modern office that seats x number of people in y amount of space. Where does the buck stop? Assumedly the creative of the firm resides in the marketing section. Aren’t they supposed to be thinking? But they are busy farting and walking around with an obnoxious looking oversized creative chip on both their shoulders. Looking at all this, the architect decides to chuck it and give what ever suits the straight and narrow. Least common denominator thinking. It hits us all the time.
Opulence is used to give the lobby height, paste granite on the walls and affix buff steel bars. The opulence and lack of imagination goes hand in hand with opulence substituting for the brain. And then add the glass finish on the outside and you have corporate buildings. They are all the same. I think they bully the employee into submission. With so many cabins and cubicles it is not surprising that ego wars happen on size. There is nothing else to differentiate. Ugliness assumes newer proportions. Colors are sorely missed. Then you will have people praising it. Wah wah!
But of course the work is still under way. The office still has finishing touches left. It will be fun and exciting to work in after you put the trimmings. Sure. I believe you. SCREW YOU.
It will be good fun to be the sole dissenting voice when we discuss the office in meetings. I HATE IT.
While on the topic of offices here is my favorite scene from the movie office space. It shows three average Joes totally smash up an office printer. Absolutely awesome scene. The printer is the ultimate symbol of everything an office is and shouldn’t be. Why –
It symbolizes the network admin who power corrupt
Personal printers are given once you reach a certain level!!!
The guys who believe their information is sensitive gets personal printers as well
The paper always jams
There are tons of uncollected print outs
Only the marketing guys get the color printer access. YOU PIECE OF SHIT!
The larger the office the larger the printer
The cartridge runs out only when you have an important print out to make
You put the letterhead and run to give the command only to find that the other guy gave the command before and printed his GM diet on your letterhead
No one understands or uses tray two for letter heads
No one understands or uses the double sided printing
No one has the courtesy to put in paper when their print outs empty the tray
The network guys sell the empty cartridge for side money.
They take forever to initialize in the morning when you are running for a meeting
They are singularly responsible for destroying the Amazon.
But the lack of imagination in designing the floor plan was of another order altogether. I really don’t know why there is absolute lack of imagination when putting people together to work. We tend to think that when the scale is large - think poultry farming. Is it because we still have not lost our farming instincts over all these years? The standard massive cubicle farms in the middle with cabins at the side. Chicken in the middle with cow shed on the sides.
An absolute lack of design and thought. Who do you blame, the architect? What about the philistines who commissioned it. If you ask for garbage you will get it. The poor admin guys have no poetry. If they had any would they wouldn’t be happy doing an admin job. Their brief will also be straightforward. Get me a modern office that seats x number of people in y amount of space. Where does the buck stop? Assumedly the creative of the firm resides in the marketing section. Aren’t they supposed to be thinking? But they are busy farting and walking around with an obnoxious looking oversized creative chip on both their shoulders. Looking at all this, the architect decides to chuck it and give what ever suits the straight and narrow. Least common denominator thinking. It hits us all the time.
Opulence is used to give the lobby height, paste granite on the walls and affix buff steel bars. The opulence and lack of imagination goes hand in hand with opulence substituting for the brain. And then add the glass finish on the outside and you have corporate buildings. They are all the same. I think they bully the employee into submission. With so many cabins and cubicles it is not surprising that ego wars happen on size. There is nothing else to differentiate. Ugliness assumes newer proportions. Colors are sorely missed. Then you will have people praising it. Wah wah!
But of course the work is still under way. The office still has finishing touches left. It will be fun and exciting to work in after you put the trimmings. Sure. I believe you. SCREW YOU.
It will be good fun to be the sole dissenting voice when we discuss the office in meetings. I HATE IT.
While on the topic of offices here is my favorite scene from the movie office space. It shows three average Joes totally smash up an office printer. Absolutely awesome scene. The printer is the ultimate symbol of everything an office is and shouldn’t be. Why –
It symbolizes the network admin who power corrupt
Personal printers are given once you reach a certain level!!!
The guys who believe their information is sensitive gets personal printers as well
The paper always jams
There are tons of uncollected print outs
Only the marketing guys get the color printer access. YOU PIECE OF SHIT!
The larger the office the larger the printer
The cartridge runs out only when you have an important print out to make
You put the letterhead and run to give the command only to find that the other guy gave the command before and printed his GM diet on your letterhead
No one understands or uses tray two for letter heads
No one understands or uses the double sided printing
No one has the courtesy to put in paper when their print outs empty the tray
The network guys sell the empty cartridge for side money.
They take forever to initialize in the morning when you are running for a meeting
They are singularly responsible for destroying the Amazon.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
how many thoughts must a man have before we can call him a man?
One of the first things that happened in this new place is that I started going through some old DVD’s I had. I saw one without a label. Hmm what is it. a ha – some songs, deaf leopard, Bob Marley, Bob Dylan etc.. hey hold on Bob Dylan huh? I am no music geek. In fact I am hearld music anything but I remember liking some of Bob Dylan. Let play it. Today as I was playing the song I rediscovered was ‘blowing in the wind’. I had definitely heard it during college days, but I felt something else as I heard it today. The lyrics got out and reached some inner core. The amazing simplicity of the song had me spell bound. Even as I read or play it over and over again I find myself as captivated as ever.
I reproduce the lyrics here:-
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, n how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, n how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before theyre forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, n how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist
Before its washed to the sea?
Yes, n how many years can some people exist
Before theyre allowed to be free?
Yes, n how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesnt see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
It is simple direct poetry at its best. In fact it is so simple that I got a bit confused trying to decipher the answer ‘is blowing in the wind’. What was on his mind? What is the poet alluding to? What is it that he is saying? Searching on net I came across the following para:-
"Blowin' in the Wind" is a song written by Bob Dylan and released on his 1963 album The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Although it has been described as a protest song, it poses a series of rhetorical questions about peace, war, and freedom. The refrain "The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind" has been described as "impenetrably ambiguous: either the answer is so obvious it is right in your face, or the answer is as intangible as the wind". The song makes no reference to a specific event.
But further reading got me to these words that Dylan himself wrote:
There ain’t too much I can say about this song except that the answer is blowing in the wind. It ain’t in no book or movie or TV show or discussion group. Man, it’s in the wind—and it’s blowing in the wind. Too many of these hip people are telling me where the answer is but oh I won’t believe that. I still say it’s in the wind and just like a restless piece of paper it’s got to come down some ...But the only trouble is that no one picks up the answer when it comes down so not too many people get to see and know ...and then it flies away I still say that some of the biggest criminals are those that turn their heads away when they see wrong and know it’s wrong. I’m only 21 years old and I know that there’s been too many ...You people over 21, you’re older and smarter.
The song is so simple a protest. Simplicity. That is the essence of his song, his verse and his thought. Only a work of an uncluttered mind can think like this. Sometimes I find it so silly that we try and see for deeper, hidden agendas and meaning where none really exist. It must be coming from an inner core of human mind that seeks to demystify and ‘solve’ everything. Sometimes they need no solving. Let them be. A blank mind can absorb so much.
That is also one of the reasons that I like teaching undergraduates as opposed to post graduate student. Something cracks once they get into an MBA. An attitude that says, I know it all. A selfish self centered attitude, a desire to control your own destiny, a stronger sense of internal belief that doesn’t open to outside influence? I don’t know. I too must have been that once I guess. Who knows – I might still be one now.
I reproduce the lyrics here:-
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, n how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, n how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before theyre forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, n how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist
Before its washed to the sea?
Yes, n how many years can some people exist
Before theyre allowed to be free?
Yes, n how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesnt see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
It is simple direct poetry at its best. In fact it is so simple that I got a bit confused trying to decipher the answer ‘is blowing in the wind’. What was on his mind? What is the poet alluding to? What is it that he is saying? Searching on net I came across the following para:-
"Blowin' in the Wind" is a song written by Bob Dylan and released on his 1963 album The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Although it has been described as a protest song, it poses a series of rhetorical questions about peace, war, and freedom. The refrain "The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind" has been described as "impenetrably ambiguous: either the answer is so obvious it is right in your face, or the answer is as intangible as the wind". The song makes no reference to a specific event.
But further reading got me to these words that Dylan himself wrote:
There ain’t too much I can say about this song except that the answer is blowing in the wind. It ain’t in no book or movie or TV show or discussion group. Man, it’s in the wind—and it’s blowing in the wind. Too many of these hip people are telling me where the answer is but oh I won’t believe that. I still say it’s in the wind and just like a restless piece of paper it’s got to come down some ...But the only trouble is that no one picks up the answer when it comes down so not too many people get to see and know ...and then it flies away I still say that some of the biggest criminals are those that turn their heads away when they see wrong and know it’s wrong. I’m only 21 years old and I know that there’s been too many ...You people over 21, you’re older and smarter.
The song is so simple a protest. Simplicity. That is the essence of his song, his verse and his thought. Only a work of an uncluttered mind can think like this. Sometimes I find it so silly that we try and see for deeper, hidden agendas and meaning where none really exist. It must be coming from an inner core of human mind that seeks to demystify and ‘solve’ everything. Sometimes they need no solving. Let them be. A blank mind can absorb so much.
That is also one of the reasons that I like teaching undergraduates as opposed to post graduate student. Something cracks once they get into an MBA. An attitude that says, I know it all. A selfish self centered attitude, a desire to control your own destiny, a stronger sense of internal belief that doesn’t open to outside influence? I don’t know. I too must have been that once I guess. Who knows – I might still be one now.
For some reason another post of mine comes to my mind as if its related http://jaimit.blogspot.com/2007/04/long-live-buddha-kill-him-on-road.html
Its a new world
This post was written yesterday but got published today. Teething troubles at the new office.
Hmmmm. A new office after around four and three quarters of a year. This is the first time that I must have sat in one place for soo long. I have had a checkered history in my ten years of work life. I kept moving around, jumping around and bouncing from one place to another. It took some time for realization to sink in that staying in one place and growing roots is probably a smart thing to do. After all the struggle and gut wrenching that a babe in the woods is first subjected to, it is now time to sit and enjoy the benefits of experience, comfort level, knowledge and power. Power in two forms – the one that comes from authority and the second that is far less visible; it is the one that comes from knowing the system and the people within it. I suggest the latter is probably more powerful. And it only comes with time and enough ‘elephant bumping’.
Coming back to the new office. I like the new desk I got. Nice cozy corner of the office. I can play music to me hearts delight, watch movies, even watch some porn without anyone catching me :) I have a wall behind me and a color printer in front! And keeping with the cost cuttings happening no one except a couple of ‘hallowed’ individuals having access to the printer. Needless to add I figures to get my self the access. These days I am happy to be a bit undisturbed and away from it all. My team is a little bit away from me. I am happier for them. I wouldn’t want my boss looking down my shoulder. It also helps them grow up. What’s the point of ‘leading’ a team if they are unable to function without you? The idea is to make your self as free as possible to pursue ‘trivial pursuits’. Sorry for the silly word play. It was only intentional. Hehe.
While we were leaving the nariman point office, there was a tinge of nostalgia but now I am ok. I am making myself quite at home here. I just want a small corner to myself. This place would be the exact size they would need to dig if I were to be buried. What else does a man want?
The last day at the old office all cleaned up desk
Some images from the shifting
now this one is my favourite... wonder why...
The new place…Wanna join me for a cuppa?
Coming back to the new office. I like the new desk I got. Nice cozy corner of the office. I can play music to me hearts delight, watch movies, even watch some porn without anyone catching me :) I have a wall behind me and a color printer in front! And keeping with the cost cuttings happening no one except a couple of ‘hallowed’ individuals having access to the printer. Needless to add I figures to get my self the access. These days I am happy to be a bit undisturbed and away from it all. My team is a little bit away from me. I am happier for them. I wouldn’t want my boss looking down my shoulder. It also helps them grow up. What’s the point of ‘leading’ a team if they are unable to function without you? The idea is to make your self as free as possible to pursue ‘trivial pursuits’. Sorry for the silly word play. It was only intentional. Hehe.
While we were leaving the nariman point office, there was a tinge of nostalgia but now I am ok. I am making myself quite at home here. I just want a small corner to myself. This place would be the exact size they would need to dig if I were to be buried. What else does a man want?
The last day at the old office all cleaned up desk
Some images from the shifting
now this one is my favourite... wonder why...The new place…Wanna join me for a cuppa?Monday, July 06, 2009
talk to learn
Once I was with a colleague (Arun) and we discussing the leadership style of a senior guy called Natrajan. He is one guy we both admired. In the middle of the discussion I said ‘the most outstanding quality about Natarajan is that while most people need to talk to motivate. Natrajan keeps quite and motivates’. As soon as I said this I realized the enormity of the observation. Arun is also always quick to catch. He looked at me, nodded and said ‘bahut bada baat bol diya tune’. I nodded. Before I spoke it I had not thought about the observation. I did not know of it. But talking to Arun made me realize my own observation. Talking to others helps you realize what you yourself did not know that you knew. BLABBER BLABBER. Argggghhh. I don’t think I am quite describing all of this well enough but I think you get the drift.
The best part about teaching and talking to others is that many times you yourself did not know of the truth. A lot of my belief has been understood by me by talking about it. It probably acts as a reinforcer and prompts thought. Listening to other people, teaching, explaining, understanding helps broaden your world view and help you learn from so many other people. How much can your experience alone help?
Here is an interesting chat that I had with a student. A very sweet but a bit confused kid. When I speak to these kids who come looking for advice all I want to do is instill in them a sense of ownership of their own destinies. We try to cling on to too many straws in the air. (I hope I got my idiom right). A lot of the answer is inside of us, in our beliefs and in our value systems.
--- ‘id withheld’---: i want some advice from you
---jaimit---: bol
--- ‘id withheld’---: do u have time.. or shud i email you and.. you get back to me
---jaimit---: BOL NA
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm
---jaimit---: THAPAD MARUNJA
--- ‘id withheld’---: hehehe :)
okok
---jaimit---: if i cant talk to you i will let you know
--- ‘id withheld’---: i graduated last mnth... i m hunting for a job.. and now you the situation here in US.. i wanted to ask you.. if I come back to India.. hw easy/difficult will it be for me..?
---jaimit---: difficult here as well
mixed reactions
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm
---jaimit---: things are improving for sure but i dont see people hiring
very difficult choice
but sometimes you have no choice but to come back :(
--- ‘id withheld’---: yea..
---jaimit---: try there
try hard
then if nothing works - come back :(
idhar bhi difficult hai
--- ‘id withheld’---: i m trying... bt its that i have to be patient.. and i have to stay here for atleast 3 mnths on my expense
hmmm...
---jaimit---: worth a shot
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm thats also true
---jaimit---: what you lose?
you gain exposure through stuggle
its fun when you have to think about making ends meet on your own
its called GROWING UP
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
ya
thank you..
if nthng works.. yea.. i have my home and family there to come back
---jaimit---: ecjactly
notihing ventured nothing gained
fortune favors the brave
aish kar
get an angrezi BF
do anything
--- ‘id withheld’---: hahaha
bhai maaar dega
---jaimit---: bhai ko thapad maar
tell him to grow up
you too should live lifee on what you think is right
not on other people's whims and beliefs
you are an adult
--- ‘id withheld’---: hehehe...
---jaimit---: you choose
--- ‘id withheld’---: i wish!!
:)
---jaimit---: i am serious
dont wish
take control of your destiny
stand up and be counted
--- ‘id withheld’---: :) yea.. you are right
---jaimit---: i am serious
do it now
these decisions that you take now will influence teh rest of your life
after a few years the decisions will not be yours alone
after marriage and motherhood you will rue not take your own decisions
then you will not be able to take decisions stand alone
every one and everything will get in your way
--- ‘id withheld’---: yaa
---jaimit---: in laws, hubby, society, kids, schools
SO GET UP AND DO WHAT EVER THE FUCK YOU THINK IS RIGHT
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
thanks!! you have really boosted my confidence
---jaimit---: after 10 20 30 years
--- ‘id withheld’---: kaafi din se .. i was really confused and upste
---jaimit---: when you look back inlife
dont blame any body else
look at yourself
your wins are your alone
your losses are yours alone
you stand tall
--- ‘id withheld’---: yea very true
---jaimit---: this way you will be at ease
--- ‘id withheld’---: yess..
your wife and your daughter are lucky.. very few men think like u
---jaimit---: :)
many do
but women are swayed by other things when they look for a man
they end up taking handsome men instead of forward looking men
women also prefer to do stupid things
after all its mother in laws you torment daughter in laws
they like being led
they like being subjugated
you have to choose
look at yourself
you went there, studied on your own
lived on your own
and yet you still think that of your brothers will
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmmmm
ya.. i also dt knw why
---jaimit---: let him advice
take his wisdom
take his experience
chat with him
butyou dont have to blindly follow him
or anyone else
not even you hubby
YOU CHOOSE
thenits easier to fight for it
easier to bear the sufferings
--- ‘id withheld’---: you are totally right
---jaimit---: there is happiness and suffering in all choices
but if they are your choices then atleast you are at ease with it
YOU
--- ‘id withheld’---: yepp...
---jaimit---: :)
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
thank u sir... thanks a lotttttttt
---jaimit---: hmm
anytime
--- ‘id withheld’---: heheh
you made my day!!
till date no one has explained me so nicely
---jaimit---: then you havent met enough people
nor spoken to them
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmmm
you just dt want to hear good things about you
may be you are right...
but still.. you are the best!
:)
---jaimit---: now i agree with you
I AM THE BEST
--- ‘id withheld’---: hahaha
---jaimit---: galti karo, sau galti karo, baar bar karo
par ek galti doobara mut karo :)
--- ‘id withheld’---: true :)
The best part about teaching and talking to others is that many times you yourself did not know of the truth. A lot of my belief has been understood by me by talking about it. It probably acts as a reinforcer and prompts thought. Listening to other people, teaching, explaining, understanding helps broaden your world view and help you learn from so many other people. How much can your experience alone help?
Here is an interesting chat that I had with a student. A very sweet but a bit confused kid. When I speak to these kids who come looking for advice all I want to do is instill in them a sense of ownership of their own destinies. We try to cling on to too many straws in the air. (I hope I got my idiom right). A lot of the answer is inside of us, in our beliefs and in our value systems.
--- ‘id withheld’---: i want some advice from you
---jaimit---: bol
--- ‘id withheld’---: do u have time.. or shud i email you and.. you get back to me
---jaimit---: BOL NA
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm
---jaimit---: THAPAD MARUNJA
--- ‘id withheld’---: hehehe :)
okok
---jaimit---: if i cant talk to you i will let you know
--- ‘id withheld’---: i graduated last mnth... i m hunting for a job.. and now you the situation here in US.. i wanted to ask you.. if I come back to India.. hw easy/difficult will it be for me..?
---jaimit---: difficult here as well
mixed reactions
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm
---jaimit---: things are improving for sure but i dont see people hiring
very difficult choice
but sometimes you have no choice but to come back :(
--- ‘id withheld’---: yea..
---jaimit---: try there
try hard
then if nothing works - come back :(
idhar bhi difficult hai
--- ‘id withheld’---: i m trying... bt its that i have to be patient.. and i have to stay here for atleast 3 mnths on my expense
hmmm...
---jaimit---: worth a shot
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmm thats also true
---jaimit---: what you lose?
you gain exposure through stuggle
its fun when you have to think about making ends meet on your own
its called GROWING UP
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
ya
thank you..
if nthng works.. yea.. i have my home and family there to come back
---jaimit---: ecjactly
notihing ventured nothing gained
fortune favors the brave
aish kar
get an angrezi BF
do anything
--- ‘id withheld’---: hahaha
bhai maaar dega
---jaimit---: bhai ko thapad maar
tell him to grow up
you too should live lifee on what you think is right
not on other people's whims and beliefs
you are an adult
--- ‘id withheld’---: hehehe...
---jaimit---: you choose
--- ‘id withheld’---: i wish!!
:)
---jaimit---: i am serious
dont wish
take control of your destiny
stand up and be counted
--- ‘id withheld’---: :) yea.. you are right
---jaimit---: i am serious
do it now
these decisions that you take now will influence teh rest of your life
after a few years the decisions will not be yours alone
after marriage and motherhood you will rue not take your own decisions
then you will not be able to take decisions stand alone
every one and everything will get in your way
--- ‘id withheld’---: yaa
---jaimit---: in laws, hubby, society, kids, schools
SO GET UP AND DO WHAT EVER THE FUCK YOU THINK IS RIGHT
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
thanks!! you have really boosted my confidence
---jaimit---: after 10 20 30 years
--- ‘id withheld’---: kaafi din se .. i was really confused and upste
---jaimit---: when you look back inlife
dont blame any body else
look at yourself
your wins are your alone
your losses are yours alone
you stand tall
--- ‘id withheld’---: yea very true
---jaimit---: this way you will be at ease
--- ‘id withheld’---: yess..
your wife and your daughter are lucky.. very few men think like u
---jaimit---: :)
many do
but women are swayed by other things when they look for a man
they end up taking handsome men instead of forward looking men
women also prefer to do stupid things
after all its mother in laws you torment daughter in laws
they like being led
they like being subjugated
you have to choose
look at yourself
you went there, studied on your own
lived on your own
and yet you still think that of your brothers will
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmmmm
ya.. i also dt knw why
---jaimit---: let him advice
take his wisdom
take his experience
chat with him
butyou dont have to blindly follow him
or anyone else
not even you hubby
YOU CHOOSE
thenits easier to fight for it
easier to bear the sufferings
--- ‘id withheld’---: you are totally right
---jaimit---: there is happiness and suffering in all choices
but if they are your choices then atleast you are at ease with it
YOU
--- ‘id withheld’---: yepp...
---jaimit---: :)
--- ‘id withheld’---: :)
thank u sir... thanks a lotttttttt
---jaimit---: hmm
anytime
--- ‘id withheld’---: heheh
you made my day!!
till date no one has explained me so nicely
---jaimit---: then you havent met enough people
nor spoken to them
--- ‘id withheld’---: hmmm
you just dt want to hear good things about you
may be you are right...
but still.. you are the best!
:)
---jaimit---: now i agree with you
I AM THE BEST
--- ‘id withheld’---: hahaha
---jaimit---: galti karo, sau galti karo, baar bar karo
par ek galti doobara mut karo :)
--- ‘id withheld’---: true :)
Friday, July 03, 2009
freedom to be
It is not often that I feel a sense of euphoria seeing the headlines of a newspaper. Typically I tend to be circumspect or skeptical about the actual impact in our lives. Today was one happy exception. The headlines read “INDIA’S GAY DAY - in a landmark ruling Delhi HC says homosexuality is not a crime”. I actually felt good and very happy. I have always wanted to take part in the queer day parade and openly show my solidarity for the community. After all, why should sexual preference, be held hostage to social norm. To my mind it’s the same bigots who oppose simple things like love marriage and inter caste marriage and the sorts.
When Jasmine and I were going around we were in mortal fear. Fear of getting caught or being found out by her parents or her brother. Her brother is a genuinely sweet guy but at the time he too held orthodox views and would play the role of BIG BROTHER. He was so bloody irritating and obnoxious. He was enemy number one for us at the time. But then life moves on. The guy even once apologized for the grief he caused us. But then that’s another story. Love marriages are still so strongly opposed in India. The cities are getting far better as in I see the reluctance slowly being come over. But beyond these pockets things might are not the same. While chatting up with a fort guide in Bharatpur, we came to section of the fort frequented by couples. This led me ask him on inter-caste marriages. He was clear. Inter caste marriages don’t happen in the town. There is a huge opposition to this resulting in ostracization, beatings and what not. We still haven’t grown up I guess.
But I guess with the pro gay ruling coming in our bigots will be forced to accept more such openness and will help in modifying their attitudes. Now I want to see parents opposing inter caste relationship between gay couples. That should be something.
Further links
http://girishshahane.blogspot.com/2009/07/gay-rights-and-religion.html
http://devdutt.com/did-homosexuality-exist-in-ancient-india
When Jasmine and I were going around we were in mortal fear. Fear of getting caught or being found out by her parents or her brother. Her brother is a genuinely sweet guy but at the time he too held orthodox views and would play the role of BIG BROTHER. He was so bloody irritating and obnoxious. He was enemy number one for us at the time. But then life moves on. The guy even once apologized for the grief he caused us. But then that’s another story. Love marriages are still so strongly opposed in India. The cities are getting far better as in I see the reluctance slowly being come over. But beyond these pockets things might are not the same. While chatting up with a fort guide in Bharatpur, we came to section of the fort frequented by couples. This led me ask him on inter-caste marriages. He was clear. Inter caste marriages don’t happen in the town. There is a huge opposition to this resulting in ostracization, beatings and what not. We still haven’t grown up I guess.
But I guess with the pro gay ruling coming in our bigots will be forced to accept more such openness and will help in modifying their attitudes. Now I want to see parents opposing inter caste relationship between gay couples. That should be something.
Further links
http://girishshahane.blogspot.com/2009/07/gay-rights-and-religion.html
http://devdutt.com/did-homosexuality-exist-in-ancient-india
Thursday, July 02, 2009
never a dull moment
Fatherhood is amongst the best things that could have happened to me. I am not sure how prepared I would have been about it or how skeptical I might have been. But it changes you in a way that I would not be able to explain. One cannot write a treatise on hunger without really experiencing it. Can one? Ever since I first saw my daughter and whispered into Jasmine’s ears ‘its Jispa’ our lives have changed. There has rarely been a dull moment in our lives with her around.
Adding to list of impossible situations I just couldn’t understand is below. No one has any clue how this happened. Jispa merely dumped the rubber band (for tying hair) in the cupboard and it happened! It defines the laws of physics. How can this accidently happen? How? 
Adding to list of impossible situations I just couldn’t understand is below. No one has any clue how this happened. Jispa merely dumped the rubber band (for tying hair) in the cupboard and it happened! It defines the laws of physics. How can this accidently happen? How?
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
in the name of God
This is something I keep seeing on and off in the Mumbai trains. People have books where in they keep writing the name of God I presume. Wonder why. Some beliefs are probably a bit weird or then again probably not. There was a time when I used to use the train for catching up on sleep. But since the last 4 odd years in the trains I like to bury my nose straight away in a book. When we do shift office in the middle next week to kalina I would miss the train travel and hence my good solid 40 minutes of reading. This would be my big loss. Now reading might be restricted to home pre sleep time. I would have to make more time for it in some other way I guess. If I reach early enough in office then that could be some time. Let’s see. But any which way I had hoped to be a train boy my entire career. I guess that’s going to stand too long. Driving to office isn’t an exciting prospect. Especially when there is no option but to listen to the stupid FM channels playing the same dam music across all stations.
Amongst the few superstitions I have is playing some Ganapati Bhajans the first thing when I start my car. Think as I might I just can’t get to kick the habit. Many years ago once when I dint play it some one took half my bumper off with his car. But I also reason that in the mornings they are definitely much more smoother on the ears than the FM music. So there, I have just rationalized an irrational habit.
Amongst the few superstitions I have is playing some Ganapati Bhajans the first thing when I start my car. Think as I might I just can’t get to kick the habit. Many years ago once when I dint play it some one took half my bumper off with his car. But I also reason that in the mornings they are definitely much more smoother on the ears than the FM music. So there, I have just rationalized an irrational habit.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
win it
What on earth is that? You tell me… the mini magna doodle is quite a handy thing on vacations. Its not too heavy to carry and it allows for millions of nano seconds of time pass.
One game we play is that we think of an object and draw it. The other person has to guess what it from the clues spoken. Like I would draw a fan and say something like ‘its on the ceiling’. But then that’s a simple game. With Jispa if the thinking isn’t lateral it’s not worth thinking.
Let me give you an example.
There has always been the debate of nature versus nurture happening. If it’s the gene pool or the upbringing that has a greater role to play. In Jispa’s case I think both combine to provide a lethal knockout punch.
As a family we have always put a large emphasis on nurture. We have done the simple acceptable things like having Jasmine be a full time mother and not succumb to the bai culture prevalent around us. It does give us less space for ourselves but the trade off in terms of parenting is huge. I too prefer to spend the few spare minutes with my family than in the office.
Just yesterday I was having a heart to heart with a colleague. While her career is on a crossroad, my simple brief to her is to take a call. What is it in life that you truly desire? Do you choose to define yourself by your job or by things other than your job. By definition, your definition would mean a choice. Hopefully a conscious choice. I have chosen not be defined by my job. I would hate doing it. I would fight till the end to define my life with interests outside of it. Making this choice would give my colleague the direction. While one is tempted to straddle two segments, such a strategy is usually fraught with risk and it normally results in confusion or mind fcuk.
But the reverse is also true. My favorite story is of the bumble bee. Folk lore has it that aerodynamically the bumble bee cannot fly. But no one told the bumble bee that. So … it does.
Coming back to Jispa’s games. She keeps drawing vague stuff and makes Jasmine guess it. The drawing is so vague (or should I say lateral) that it could always mean something else and Jasmine would always lose. No matter what you guess, it would not be it.
By the way... the answer to Jispa’s drawing riddle in case you have given up
A handle
Did you get it? Harvard research suggests those who think with their right brain get it in nine tries or less, those who take more than that are left brains. It’s only the nincompoops who give up and are unable to see light. Some don’t see it even on being told the answer. Those are the genuine first rankers.
One game we play is that we think of an object and draw it. The other person has to guess what it from the clues spoken. Like I would draw a fan and say something like ‘its on the ceiling’. But then that’s a simple game. With Jispa if the thinking isn’t lateral it’s not worth thinking.
Let me give you an example.
What is that she has drawn? Go on think a bit. Ok… think again… nopes wrong answer… nopes again. You are wrong.
There has always been the debate of nature versus nurture happening. If it’s the gene pool or the upbringing that has a greater role to play. In Jispa’s case I think both combine to provide a lethal knockout punch.
As a family we have always put a large emphasis on nurture. We have done the simple acceptable things like having Jasmine be a full time mother and not succumb to the bai culture prevalent around us. It does give us less space for ourselves but the trade off in terms of parenting is huge. I too prefer to spend the few spare minutes with my family than in the office.
Just yesterday I was having a heart to heart with a colleague. While her career is on a crossroad, my simple brief to her is to take a call. What is it in life that you truly desire? Do you choose to define yourself by your job or by things other than your job. By definition, your definition would mean a choice. Hopefully a conscious choice. I have chosen not be defined by my job. I would hate doing it. I would fight till the end to define my life with interests outside of it. Making this choice would give my colleague the direction. While one is tempted to straddle two segments, such a strategy is usually fraught with risk and it normally results in confusion or mind fcuk.
But the reverse is also true. My favorite story is of the bumble bee. Folk lore has it that aerodynamically the bumble bee cannot fly. But no one told the bumble bee that. So … it does.
Coming back to Jispa’s games. She keeps drawing vague stuff and makes Jasmine guess it. The drawing is so vague (or should I say lateral) that it could always mean something else and Jasmine would always lose. No matter what you guess, it would not be it.
By the way... the answer to Jispa’s drawing riddle in case you have given up
A handle
Did you get it? Harvard research suggests those who think with their right brain get it in nine tries or less, those who take more than that are left brains. It’s only the nincompoops who give up and are unable to see light. Some don’t see it even on being told the answer. Those are the genuine first rankers.
Monday, June 29, 2009
da email
I can’t get over this. Jasmine sent me a mail from jispad@gmail.com saying that this is Jispa’s email id. Firstly I thought it sucked. I mean what a boring dam id. It should have been something weird. jispasleeps@gmail.com, jispapad, or whatever. But hell she will create her ID based on her own ID later I guess. But I could not reply something as mundane as congrats or welcome to her. It was my first email conversation with her. It had to be inspirational; it had to be something that she would look forward to. It had to be something that she could hang on her wall and sleep in the bask of its security. It had to be something that she could turn to in times of difficulty.
Allow me to tell you a lovely story on inspiration or is it – direction?
(but before you read more, may I urge you to write mails to her. She might enjoy your mails. No forwards, spam or chain mails wishing her luck please.)
When the world was still young and the newly created beings—the Divas, the Asuras and the Manusas—were groping to understand their place in the world, they all meditated for true knowledge from their creator Prajapati, who was Brahma Himself.After a long time had passed, the Divas went to Prajapati and asked for His wisdom. “Lord, please tell us what we should live by.”Prajapati looked kindly at the Divas, who were endowed with great character and who had God-like intentions, but He simply uttered a single letter of the Sanskrit alphabet, “da.”The Divas pondered over what they had heard until Prajapati gently asked them, “Divas, do you understand the meaning of what I said?”The Divas stated, “Yes, Lord, we understand. ‘Da’ stands for Damyata—control. You want us to live a life of restraint.”Prajapati said, “Yes, you have understood it. Be self-controlled.”Next, the Manusas, who were humans, went to Prajapati and reverentially asked for His wisdom. “Lord, please tell us what we should live by.”For a few minutes Prajapati observed the Manusas, who had great intellect and passion but who were weak in body and petty in their dealings with others. He again pronounced the same letter of the alphabet, “da.” Prajapati paused, allowing them time to reflect over His answer. Then he asked them, “Manusas, do you understand what I said?”The humans grasped the meaning quickly. “Yes, Lord, we fully perceive what you said. ‘Da’ symbolizes Datta—give. We should be generous. There is great joy in sharing.”Prajapati was pleased with their answer, “You have understood. Go and live accordingly.”Lastly, the Asuras went to Prajapati and asked him for His wisdom. Although the Asuras were created in darkness, they were still His children. Prajapati looked at them carefully. The Asuras were strong in body and in their determinations. They were the rivals of the Divas. But once again Prajapati stated only “da.”The Asuras mused over what they had heard until Prajapati inquired, “Asuras, do you understand what I said?”The Asuras clearly discerned the message of Prajapati. “Lord, when you said ‘da’ you meant Dayadhyam— compassion. You want us to be compassionate.”Prajapati smiled, “Yes, you have understood it. Live a life of compassion for others.”Prajapati rose up and vanished in the clouds in the midst of a loud thunder—“da,” “da,” “da.” And the three races repeated, “damyata,” “datta,” “dayadham,” and went their separate ways. The divine message is often repeated by the clouds as they thunder, “da,” “da,” “da,” as if to remind all beings of the lesson learned by the three races at the very beginning of their journey—be self-controlled, be generous, be compassionate.Prajapati did not instill wisdom, nor did He offer to show the right path. Prajapati accepted the three different interpretations of His message because the Divas, Manusas, and Asuras recognized their own frailties and interpreted His Message accordingly. One can perceive wisdom only at a level of one’s cognizance and consciousness
Hence I too wanted to send a message to her of equal status and meaning. I am sure this also serve as insipartion to you as well. Here is what I wrote to her.
Dum chik chick bum bum
What a funny bum bum
Why have you bum bum
When there is only one bum
Dum chik chick bum bum
Allow me to tell you a lovely story on inspiration or is it – direction?
(but before you read more, may I urge you to write mails to her. She might enjoy your mails. No forwards, spam or chain mails wishing her luck please.)
When the world was still young and the newly created beings—the Divas, the Asuras and the Manusas—were groping to understand their place in the world, they all meditated for true knowledge from their creator Prajapati, who was Brahma Himself.After a long time had passed, the Divas went to Prajapati and asked for His wisdom. “Lord, please tell us what we should live by.”Prajapati looked kindly at the Divas, who were endowed with great character and who had God-like intentions, but He simply uttered a single letter of the Sanskrit alphabet, “da.”The Divas pondered over what they had heard until Prajapati gently asked them, “Divas, do you understand the meaning of what I said?”The Divas stated, “Yes, Lord, we understand. ‘Da’ stands for Damyata—control. You want us to live a life of restraint.”Prajapati said, “Yes, you have understood it. Be self-controlled.”Next, the Manusas, who were humans, went to Prajapati and reverentially asked for His wisdom. “Lord, please tell us what we should live by.”For a few minutes Prajapati observed the Manusas, who had great intellect and passion but who were weak in body and petty in their dealings with others. He again pronounced the same letter of the alphabet, “da.” Prajapati paused, allowing them time to reflect over His answer. Then he asked them, “Manusas, do you understand what I said?”The humans grasped the meaning quickly. “Yes, Lord, we fully perceive what you said. ‘Da’ symbolizes Datta—give. We should be generous. There is great joy in sharing.”Prajapati was pleased with their answer, “You have understood. Go and live accordingly.”Lastly, the Asuras went to Prajapati and asked him for His wisdom. Although the Asuras were created in darkness, they were still His children. Prajapati looked at them carefully. The Asuras were strong in body and in their determinations. They were the rivals of the Divas. But once again Prajapati stated only “da.”The Asuras mused over what they had heard until Prajapati inquired, “Asuras, do you understand what I said?”The Asuras clearly discerned the message of Prajapati. “Lord, when you said ‘da’ you meant Dayadhyam— compassion. You want us to be compassionate.”Prajapati smiled, “Yes, you have understood it. Live a life of compassion for others.”Prajapati rose up and vanished in the clouds in the midst of a loud thunder—“da,” “da,” “da.” And the three races repeated, “damyata,” “datta,” “dayadham,” and went their separate ways. The divine message is often repeated by the clouds as they thunder, “da,” “da,” “da,” as if to remind all beings of the lesson learned by the three races at the very beginning of their journey—be self-controlled, be generous, be compassionate.Prajapati did not instill wisdom, nor did He offer to show the right path. Prajapati accepted the three different interpretations of His message because the Divas, Manusas, and Asuras recognized their own frailties and interpreted His Message accordingly. One can perceive wisdom only at a level of one’s cognizance and consciousness
Hence I too wanted to send a message to her of equal status and meaning. I am sure this also serve as insipartion to you as well. Here is what I wrote to her.
Dum chik chick bum bum
What a funny bum bum
Why have you bum bum
When there is only one bum
Dum chik chick bum bum
it works
What a tiring weekend. With Jispa’s cousin coming in there was never a dull moment. If there were any hopes of missing a second kid in our lives – those were happily squashed. One is enough. Two multiplies the issue a billion times over. Most of the emotional energy is expended in resolving conflict. Expecting the elder one to behave like an elder one and the younger to also let go.
On the first night they started fighting for using the same bathroom for bath. Believe me, there is nothing in the dam bathroom to fight for. Being the hosts we pushed Jispa to not in demand bathroom. She was upset with us. I then started talking to her. The good thing about Jispa is that at least she listens even when angry. I gave the big shit dialogue of ‘atithi dev bhava’. That got her a bit calmer. What was it? I explained that even in Sanskrit there is a saying that treat your guest like god as they have come to your home. This is also what Gandhi taught us. If he is being silly then we must be good. Only by the power of demonstration can you teach your others to behave better. They will not listen or notice, but slowly they will see what t is to be good. Then they too will respond in kind. That is the only way. You must start by your sacrifice.
As soon as they came out all clean and ready to sleep, the conflict on which bed to sleep on reared its ugly head. Both wanted to sleep on the bed on top. Jispa looked at me and then said ‘Siddhant, you tell where you you want to sleep. Anything is ok. I can sleep down.’ Instantly Siddhant replied ‘anywhere, I am ok down as well’. Jispa looked at me. It was working. It works. The rest of the weekend we saw more such gandhigiri to amazing results.
On the first night they started fighting for using the same bathroom for bath. Believe me, there is nothing in the dam bathroom to fight for. Being the hosts we pushed Jispa to not in demand bathroom. She was upset with us. I then started talking to her. The good thing about Jispa is that at least she listens even when angry. I gave the big shit dialogue of ‘atithi dev bhava’. That got her a bit calmer. What was it? I explained that even in Sanskrit there is a saying that treat your guest like god as they have come to your home. This is also what Gandhi taught us. If he is being silly then we must be good. Only by the power of demonstration can you teach your others to behave better. They will not listen or notice, but slowly they will see what t is to be good. Then they too will respond in kind. That is the only way. You must start by your sacrifice.
As soon as they came out all clean and ready to sleep, the conflict on which bed to sleep on reared its ugly head. Both wanted to sleep on the bed on top. Jispa looked at me and then said ‘Siddhant, you tell where you you want to sleep. Anything is ok. I can sleep down.’ Instantly Siddhant replied ‘anywhere, I am ok down as well’. Jispa looked at me. It was working. It works. The rest of the weekend we saw more such gandhigiri to amazing results.
It did spread peace and harmony. Sometimes we dont realise the futility of conflict, be it between cousins or countries. Here is one amazing statement I really loved.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Reconciliation of Opposites
I work in the wealth management division in an Indian private bank carrying a Chinese Mao bag and reading Nehru.
Reconciliation of Opposites – three opposites?
Reconciliation of Opposites – three opposites?
Thursday, June 25, 2009
somebody move
This time I traveled for my holiday in the trains as well. I have romantic associations of the trains from childhood and I still try to relieve them as well. So hence we travel by train. But one small change – I don’t travel sleeper class. I don’t think I can handle that anymore. I travel at least in A/C. Every time jasmine and I see the second sleeper we wonder how people travel and the fact that we used to travel like that as kids. It’s become much dirtier these days than what I remember. The crowd seems to have all upgraded and hence our kind of class status would be in the A/C’s and the unreserved has moved onto sleepers. Whatever our stupid class connotations I don’t think I would want to travel like that with family. Somehow on my own I might be a bit more adventurous.
But I don’t quite know what to make of the Indian railways. The last five years for the railways has been written in gold with the Indian railways making breakthrough turn to windfall profits. This fact got global attention for the Indian railways and it became a case study for B school. Hell, I also saw an expensive book on it. What does mean for the end customer who uses it for transport, both the daily commute as well as the long distance traveler. Answer – zilch. Forward is an anathema for this anachronism.
I have been traveling in the trains for a long time now. I have been commuting since 1991 and have been doing long distance traveling since I was a baby. From where I remember – not much had changed. The only big leap has been the introduction of computers for reservation. Add online to it as an extension and there – you are done.
There is nothing done to augment the user experience. The loos in the stations and on the trains have remained as dirty as they ever were in all these years. The compartments have definitely gotten dirtier to point of being filthy. The AC compartments are getting worse. Dull and dingy due to ugly dark sun film, dirty curtains in the 2nd AC, bed sheets and blankets that have not been washed but merely ironed again. The pillows are awful and bad. Some are completely out of shape and black inside. The stations are dirty crowded and ill designed. Delhi Nizammuddin station at Delhi which caters to long distance travelers will not have slopes at foot over bridges. The coolies will not charge standard agreed upon fares. There will not be any fixed / fair metered taxi stands outside. The food stall will be sad as ever. The pantry will overcharge, delivery short quantity, prepare bad food and maintain no hygiene. The pantry car is an ugly, filthy, hot and pathetic rat hole.
The attendants are unhelpful as ever, the TC is corrupt as ever. Few good things – they upgrade travelers in case of vacancy… It’s true we got upgraded from 3 tier AC to 2 tier AC on one trip! You can use print outs instead of tickets. Wow! And the website actually has adequate bandwidth and server strength. I can’t think anything much beyond. Can you? Oh ya I almost forgot. The new Rajdhani coaches are nicer and some coaches have interesting new hip and useful reading lamps.
And anything that I think of as a solution just somehow feels unimplementable. In Ratlam we saw the carriage being cleaned by some private guys – they too are not up to mark. Its really difficult to think of solutions. The only thing I can think of is allowing for private compartments managed and branded by hospitality chains. So you may have a 5 star Taj coach followed by a budget ginger coach and then a ‘shiv sagar udipi’ coach. The government can continue to keep the same subsidy while allowing the people to pay more for greater comfort. But this is conundrum is very painful to see unsolved.
Here are some images from the trip this time around
Jispa enjoying her herself. Gymnastics is useful!
Inside the loo
Hammer for breaking glass in emergency. But uhhh… how do we get to the hammer. Oh.. break the glass and get the hammer to break the glass.
But I don’t quite know what to make of the Indian railways. The last five years for the railways has been written in gold with the Indian railways making breakthrough turn to windfall profits. This fact got global attention for the Indian railways and it became a case study for B school. Hell, I also saw an expensive book on it. What does mean for the end customer who uses it for transport, both the daily commute as well as the long distance traveler. Answer – zilch. Forward is an anathema for this anachronism.
I have been traveling in the trains for a long time now. I have been commuting since 1991 and have been doing long distance traveling since I was a baby. From where I remember – not much had changed. The only big leap has been the introduction of computers for reservation. Add online to it as an extension and there – you are done.
There is nothing done to augment the user experience. The loos in the stations and on the trains have remained as dirty as they ever were in all these years. The compartments have definitely gotten dirtier to point of being filthy. The AC compartments are getting worse. Dull and dingy due to ugly dark sun film, dirty curtains in the 2nd AC, bed sheets and blankets that have not been washed but merely ironed again. The pillows are awful and bad. Some are completely out of shape and black inside. The stations are dirty crowded and ill designed. Delhi Nizammuddin station at Delhi which caters to long distance travelers will not have slopes at foot over bridges. The coolies will not charge standard agreed upon fares. There will not be any fixed / fair metered taxi stands outside. The food stall will be sad as ever. The pantry will overcharge, delivery short quantity, prepare bad food and maintain no hygiene. The pantry car is an ugly, filthy, hot and pathetic rat hole.
The attendants are unhelpful as ever, the TC is corrupt as ever. Few good things – they upgrade travelers in case of vacancy… It’s true we got upgraded from 3 tier AC to 2 tier AC on one trip! You can use print outs instead of tickets. Wow! And the website actually has adequate bandwidth and server strength. I can’t think anything much beyond. Can you? Oh ya I almost forgot. The new Rajdhani coaches are nicer and some coaches have interesting new hip and useful reading lamps.
And anything that I think of as a solution just somehow feels unimplementable. In Ratlam we saw the carriage being cleaned by some private guys – they too are not up to mark. Its really difficult to think of solutions. The only thing I can think of is allowing for private compartments managed and branded by hospitality chains. So you may have a 5 star Taj coach followed by a budget ginger coach and then a ‘shiv sagar udipi’ coach. The government can continue to keep the same subsidy while allowing the people to pay more for greater comfort. But this is conundrum is very painful to see unsolved.
Here are some images from the trip this time around
Jispa enjoying her herself. Gymnastics is useful!
Inside the looHammer for breaking glass in emergency. But uhhh… how do we get to the hammer. Oh.. break the glass and get the hammer to break the glass.Wow nice electronic display. Trains coming and trains going. But wait hang on.. did you spot it… go on look again….
The arrival time is after the departure time in the second last row. Oh ya.. I am a hard to please guy. Aint I?
The arrival time is after the departure time in the second last row. Oh ya.. I am a hard to please guy. Aint I? emulate
On yesterday’s ramblings on rebel behavior and breaking norm, here is an email from one of my friends. She is petite French lady, must be around 25, doing her bit to know the world. Now that’s a role model for Jispa.
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“I'm going to try to make it short cause many things happened since the last emails we've exchanged!I left Istanbul after working for the World Water Council who was organizing the World Water forum (one evry 3 years) in Istanbul in March, as a communications consultant and had the greatest time of my life there, because of a crazy life with a group of funny friends from all around the world. And I managed to fall in love 2 weeks before leaving lol. His name is ----, his father is Turkish (but grandparents are Spanish and Russian), his mom Dutch. I flew to Paris and he was flying to Amsterdam 15minutes later, we left at the same time! A few days later I visited him and his family in Holland and he came back to Paris with me, flew to the USA a few days later because he studies ecology and permaculture and has some projects going on.A week later I flew to Monterrey (Mexico) where my brother is a student, it was just after the big story about the swine flu started. He was supposed to meet me in Cancun but given he was in the middle of the Californian desert without phone or difficult access to the internet, I couldn't reach him! And the swine flu was a lot exagerated by the media, they were talking about closing the borders with the US and I didn't know if he could make it and even if he booked a flight ticket, it was not sure it wouldn't get cancelled. But he made it and we met again in Cancun :)Then we travelled the whole Yucatan and Chiapas regions together, he was supposed to stay 2 weeks. But he postponed his return every week and finally stayed 7 weeks with me, until last Monday. We've done all the Central America by bus: Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama, staying on average a week in each country, awesome experience! And on Monday I flew to Colombia where I am now and he flew to the US to get a certification in order to teach permaculture... So we'll see what happens.I'm going to Peru next, then Bolovia, Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Easter island, New Zeland, Australia etc etc. I'll be in India in February 2010 after Asia and to be honest I keep talking about my love for the country everyday!”
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Role models are important in our lives. I have firmly believed in the fact that monkey sees monkey does. A lot of what I have been able to shape my life has been thanks to the many role models I see around me. For me there is no concept of a singular role model. We learn multiple things from multiple people. I would have role models for different situations and different actions. There is inspiration from everywhere. From the taxi driver in the earlier blog to the this French lady. There is no dearth of it, only a limitation of our senses.
On inspiration here is one lovely article I read today in the Times Of India (TOI). I am not normally easily inspired by business leaders. I find them shallow, petty and stage managed. But I like the way this man has spoken, the way he is not bitter and his ability to joke on his past. Everyone has gone through tough times. I too have had my share I am sure I would have some to come. But today I can look back, laugh a bit, not be bitter and wish them well. I hope I can do so in the future as well. Normally newspapers and specially the TOI, are pretty crappy in their reporting and would rarely have gems within. Here is one such happy exception.
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‘Will we sleep on the streets now?’
Yesterday, we brought you an interview with JPMorgan chief Jamie Dimon on finance and economics. Today, we bring you a story from his life that’s poignantly funny — and yet inspirational...
Vikas Singh TNN
JPMorgan Chase chairman Jamie Dimon’s life could be straight out of a Jeffrey Archer novel—he was hired out of Harvard B-school by a billionaire who became like a father to him before they parted ways; he went from being heir-apparent at the world’s largest financial services company to working at a smaller, struggling bank; a few years later, he returned from Chicago to New York in a blaze of glory and now heads America’s largest and most influential bank (with assets of about $2.3 trillion). Today, he is arguably the world’s most powerful banker (at least in the private sector). It’s an empowering tale in an era of job losses. Dimon’s dramatic falling out with Sandy Weill has passed into financial folklore. The two men had worked closely together for about 15 years before they took over Citigroup. Dimon was widely seen as Weill’s successor at Citi, but in 1998, Weill fired Dimon (speculation has it that Dimon passed Weill’s daughter over for a promotion). When TOI met Dimon in Mumbai, we couldn’t resist asking him about that episode. ‘‘Sandy told me you have to resign. So, I said ‘OK’. I called my wife and told her, ‘I have to tell you something, it isn’t a joke.’ I was concerned about my three daughters, who were then 12, 10 and 8. I didn’t want them to hear about it in school, or read it in the papers. I sat them down and said, ‘Girls, I want you to know I resigned...I was fired.’ ‘‘The youngest one said, ‘Dad, will we have to sleep on the streets now?’ The middle one asked, ‘Can I still go to college?’ And the eldest said, ‘Can I have your cellphone now, because you won’t be needing it?’’’ After we’d finished laughing, Dimon turned philosophical. ‘‘It was my net worth that was involved there, not my self-worth. I remained the same person that I was the minute before, and I was determined that my values and behaviour wouldn’t change. Of course, there were times when I was depressed. I would walk into a room and people would treat me like a leper. But often, while jogging in Central Park, I’d be asked, ‘Are you Jamie Dimon?’ and when I said yes, they’d pat me on my back and say ‘Yeah!’ as if I was Robin Hood. ‘‘Everyone has their ups and downs. Tell me one person you admire, not just in business, but in life, and you’ll find they had their share. Nelson Mandela walked out of prison after 27 years, magnanimous to his captors. You have to get up, brush yourself and move on.’’ Dimon moved on to Bank One in Chicago, turned it around, and merged it with JPMorgan in a deal that ended with him becoming chairman and CEO of JPMorgan. Then, in October 2006, he decided to pull out of sub-prime loans even as other banks bet huge amounts on them. The result: JPMorgan was the only bank with enough cash to acquire the ailing Bear Stearns and Washington Mutual when they were on the brink of collapse. Today, JPMorgan has surged far ahead of the crisis-ridden Citigroup. So, is revenge sweet? ‘‘No,’’ he said promptly. ‘‘I still have a lot of friends there and what happened was so hard on people. I could play a sport with you and want to beat the hell out of you. But if you break a leg or have a heart attack, I’ll take you to hospital. I truly want Citi to get better. Citi’s problems are bad for Citi, for the people there, for America, and not good for JPMorgan. Also, it’s a terrible mistake to measure yourself by someone else doing badly. I want us to grow for us. Like Mandela said, ‘If you spend your life on revenge, then you are beholden to the prior people.’ You haven’t moved on, you’re still responding to them.’’
---------------------------
Well, while we are on stories let me give you another one. We stayed at this man’s place in Jilling. His name is Steve Lall. There are very few instances that a vacation can have an impact on your life. This is that one place. Steve has not let a road come up to his estate and has let the hill remain a pristine place, free of evils of development. An absolutely amazing place. With just three four cottages to stay spread across 50 or more acres on a hill in Kumaon, it is as quixotic as can get. Steve is a man who is so full of life and very open and welcoming. We truly felt like we were staying as his personal guest as opposed to plain tourists.
He is one man you would want to meet. A lot of people know him in Nainital region. He is everyone’s friend and everyone’s uncle. He has no hang-ups and a simple uncluttered approach to his life. He even pressed and clicked my back bone into place!
After I came back and raved about it to a few friends one friend sent a link he found about him. I reproduce the content. Source - http://www.flickr.com/photos/markdmartin/3476360167/.
---------------------------
Squadron Leader Steve P. Lall Ace MiG 21 pilot, Rebel, Environmentalist, mountain biker and Tony Curtiss Look-alike.
Squadron Leader Steve Lall or as we call him in India “Uncle Steve” joined the Indian Air Force along with my old back in 1966. Not only were they course mates, there were entry mates at the time of enlisting and also fought the 1971 war together.Steve was a born pilot, he was amongst the first bunch of guys who took charge of the MiG 21 when our Air force got them and in no time he mastered that aircraft. Steve was a kick-ass pilot and was too good at what he did which was air combat maneuvering or “dog-fighting” during the days when air defence was a critical strategy. Steve always stood for what was right no matter which class, creed, stature, race and caste he backed. While he had admirers, he too had a bunch of guys who despised him because he was good and they tried their best to find an opportunity to screw him. No one could touch Steve when it came to flying, so the only way to get him out of their way was to create situations which made life hard for him.And with this, Steve turned into a rebel, stretching the law, defying rules and every time he broke a law, he made that a milestone as he went along.Steve, sometime in 1974 got into a situation in which he was court martialed from the air force and was made to leave. While the Air Force lost an outstanding pilot, this changed him. He took over his old man’s property called the Jilling Estate which more or less is two whole mountains in the Himalayas’, married a mountain girl and called the hills his home ever since.Steve over the years learnt and realized the meaning of life and that meant finding happiness, peace, solace and serenity in the little that he had and made that his world. The mountains made Steve a whole new man and made him realize what it meant to live. He took up biking, became a nature and wildlife conservationist and got into eco-tourism by subletting cottages in the estate to the adventurous. Today Steve owns 6 bikes, selectively gives his place up in the hills on rent, bikes across the whole of India and derives happiness at every single step of the way, or hairpin turn on the mountains.Steve and my old man were close and some of the stuff they did back in the old days I’d personally never ever think of trying even today.Some of the wacked out stuff that Steve did back in the day were:• Taking his dog Kanchi (a wire haired Dachund) up for a sortie in a Mig 21; he had Air Force Sergeant Unni make a special harness that strapped Kanchi to his G-suit and took her for 1 sortie below 10,000 ft and did a few high speed passes across the tower.• After a binging session in the Air Force Mess and Club, Steve and a few folks decided to drive a steam roller back home and during the way, decided to say a quick ‘hello’ to the station commanding officer. Steve, while being an outstanding pilot, miscalculated the turn ability of the steam roller and flattened the commanding officers front gate, lawn and porch.• Steve and my old man created a band in the air force and in the day, many a damsel swore that Steve looked like Tony Curtiss, my old man looked by Charles Bronson and another lad they had on the drums resembled Dean Martin. Steve was awesome with the Trumpet but being short-tempered, when he did not get the right note he wanted, he threw the German made trumpet on the floor and stamped it on the stage.• The station Steve was posted in came out with a rule that dogs were to be leashed always at the station(!) so Steve to defy the rule, took Kanchi his dog, on top of his Harley Davidson he had, wore his swimming trunks and rode his bike straight into the swimming pool. That pretty much ended the rule.(!!).If there’s anyone who at any age wants to learn and know the true meaning of life and that too with biking maintenance techniques thrown in, and aint that crazy in the mind to take up smoking weed at 35 or joining the sex oozing Osho Ashram, I recommend spending a week with Steve.To know more about an outstanding human being called Steve Lall, visit www.jilling.net
--------------------------
More stuff about him and his paradise
http://www.hindu.com/mp/2008/01/07/stories/2008010750890400.htm
http://www.jilling.net/articles.html
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“I'm going to try to make it short cause many things happened since the last emails we've exchanged!I left Istanbul after working for the World Water Council who was organizing the World Water forum (one evry 3 years) in Istanbul in March, as a communications consultant and had the greatest time of my life there, because of a crazy life with a group of funny friends from all around the world. And I managed to fall in love 2 weeks before leaving lol. His name is ----, his father is Turkish (but grandparents are Spanish and Russian), his mom Dutch. I flew to Paris and he was flying to Amsterdam 15minutes later, we left at the same time! A few days later I visited him and his family in Holland and he came back to Paris with me, flew to the USA a few days later because he studies ecology and permaculture and has some projects going on.A week later I flew to Monterrey (Mexico) where my brother is a student, it was just after the big story about the swine flu started. He was supposed to meet me in Cancun but given he was in the middle of the Californian desert without phone or difficult access to the internet, I couldn't reach him! And the swine flu was a lot exagerated by the media, they were talking about closing the borders with the US and I didn't know if he could make it and even if he booked a flight ticket, it was not sure it wouldn't get cancelled. But he made it and we met again in Cancun :)Then we travelled the whole Yucatan and Chiapas regions together, he was supposed to stay 2 weeks. But he postponed his return every week and finally stayed 7 weeks with me, until last Monday. We've done all the Central America by bus: Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama, staying on average a week in each country, awesome experience! And on Monday I flew to Colombia where I am now and he flew to the US to get a certification in order to teach permaculture... So we'll see what happens.I'm going to Peru next, then Bolovia, Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Easter island, New Zeland, Australia etc etc. I'll be in India in February 2010 after Asia and to be honest I keep talking about my love for the country everyday!”
---------------------
Role models are important in our lives. I have firmly believed in the fact that monkey sees monkey does. A lot of what I have been able to shape my life has been thanks to the many role models I see around me. For me there is no concept of a singular role model. We learn multiple things from multiple people. I would have role models for different situations and different actions. There is inspiration from everywhere. From the taxi driver in the earlier blog to the this French lady. There is no dearth of it, only a limitation of our senses.
On inspiration here is one lovely article I read today in the Times Of India (TOI). I am not normally easily inspired by business leaders. I find them shallow, petty and stage managed. But I like the way this man has spoken, the way he is not bitter and his ability to joke on his past. Everyone has gone through tough times. I too have had my share I am sure I would have some to come. But today I can look back, laugh a bit, not be bitter and wish them well. I hope I can do so in the future as well. Normally newspapers and specially the TOI, are pretty crappy in their reporting and would rarely have gems within. Here is one such happy exception.
---------------------------
‘Will we sleep on the streets now?’
Yesterday, we brought you an interview with JPMorgan chief Jamie Dimon on finance and economics. Today, we bring you a story from his life that’s poignantly funny — and yet inspirational...
Vikas Singh TNN
JPMorgan Chase chairman Jamie Dimon’s life could be straight out of a Jeffrey Archer novel—he was hired out of Harvard B-school by a billionaire who became like a father to him before they parted ways; he went from being heir-apparent at the world’s largest financial services company to working at a smaller, struggling bank; a few years later, he returned from Chicago to New York in a blaze of glory and now heads America’s largest and most influential bank (with assets of about $2.3 trillion). Today, he is arguably the world’s most powerful banker (at least in the private sector). It’s an empowering tale in an era of job losses. Dimon’s dramatic falling out with Sandy Weill has passed into financial folklore. The two men had worked closely together for about 15 years before they took over Citigroup. Dimon was widely seen as Weill’s successor at Citi, but in 1998, Weill fired Dimon (speculation has it that Dimon passed Weill’s daughter over for a promotion). When TOI met Dimon in Mumbai, we couldn’t resist asking him about that episode. ‘‘Sandy told me you have to resign. So, I said ‘OK’. I called my wife and told her, ‘I have to tell you something, it isn’t a joke.’ I was concerned about my three daughters, who were then 12, 10 and 8. I didn’t want them to hear about it in school, or read it in the papers. I sat them down and said, ‘Girls, I want you to know I resigned...I was fired.’ ‘‘The youngest one said, ‘Dad, will we have to sleep on the streets now?’ The middle one asked, ‘Can I still go to college?’ And the eldest said, ‘Can I have your cellphone now, because you won’t be needing it?’’’ After we’d finished laughing, Dimon turned philosophical. ‘‘It was my net worth that was involved there, not my self-worth. I remained the same person that I was the minute before, and I was determined that my values and behaviour wouldn’t change. Of course, there were times when I was depressed. I would walk into a room and people would treat me like a leper. But often, while jogging in Central Park, I’d be asked, ‘Are you Jamie Dimon?’ and when I said yes, they’d pat me on my back and say ‘Yeah!’ as if I was Robin Hood. ‘‘Everyone has their ups and downs. Tell me one person you admire, not just in business, but in life, and you’ll find they had their share. Nelson Mandela walked out of prison after 27 years, magnanimous to his captors. You have to get up, brush yourself and move on.’’ Dimon moved on to Bank One in Chicago, turned it around, and merged it with JPMorgan in a deal that ended with him becoming chairman and CEO of JPMorgan. Then, in October 2006, he decided to pull out of sub-prime loans even as other banks bet huge amounts on them. The result: JPMorgan was the only bank with enough cash to acquire the ailing Bear Stearns and Washington Mutual when they were on the brink of collapse. Today, JPMorgan has surged far ahead of the crisis-ridden Citigroup. So, is revenge sweet? ‘‘No,’’ he said promptly. ‘‘I still have a lot of friends there and what happened was so hard on people. I could play a sport with you and want to beat the hell out of you. But if you break a leg or have a heart attack, I’ll take you to hospital. I truly want Citi to get better. Citi’s problems are bad for Citi, for the people there, for America, and not good for JPMorgan. Also, it’s a terrible mistake to measure yourself by someone else doing badly. I want us to grow for us. Like Mandela said, ‘If you spend your life on revenge, then you are beholden to the prior people.’ You haven’t moved on, you’re still responding to them.’’
---------------------------
Well, while we are on stories let me give you another one. We stayed at this man’s place in Jilling. His name is Steve Lall. There are very few instances that a vacation can have an impact on your life. This is that one place. Steve has not let a road come up to his estate and has let the hill remain a pristine place, free of evils of development. An absolutely amazing place. With just three four cottages to stay spread across 50 or more acres on a hill in Kumaon, it is as quixotic as can get. Steve is a man who is so full of life and very open and welcoming. We truly felt like we were staying as his personal guest as opposed to plain tourists.
He is one man you would want to meet. A lot of people know him in Nainital region. He is everyone’s friend and everyone’s uncle. He has no hang-ups and a simple uncluttered approach to his life. He even pressed and clicked my back bone into place!
After I came back and raved about it to a few friends one friend sent a link he found about him. I reproduce the content. Source - http://www.flickr.com/photos/markdmartin/3476360167/.
---------------------------
Squadron Leader Steve P. Lall Ace MiG 21 pilot, Rebel, Environmentalist, mountain biker and Tony Curtiss Look-alike.
Squadron Leader Steve Lall or as we call him in India “Uncle Steve” joined the Indian Air Force along with my old back in 1966. Not only were they course mates, there were entry mates at the time of enlisting and also fought the 1971 war together.Steve was a born pilot, he was amongst the first bunch of guys who took charge of the MiG 21 when our Air force got them and in no time he mastered that aircraft. Steve was a kick-ass pilot and was too good at what he did which was air combat maneuvering or “dog-fighting” during the days when air defence was a critical strategy. Steve always stood for what was right no matter which class, creed, stature, race and caste he backed. While he had admirers, he too had a bunch of guys who despised him because he was good and they tried their best to find an opportunity to screw him. No one could touch Steve when it came to flying, so the only way to get him out of their way was to create situations which made life hard for him.And with this, Steve turned into a rebel, stretching the law, defying rules and every time he broke a law, he made that a milestone as he went along.Steve, sometime in 1974 got into a situation in which he was court martialed from the air force and was made to leave. While the Air Force lost an outstanding pilot, this changed him. He took over his old man’s property called the Jilling Estate which more or less is two whole mountains in the Himalayas’, married a mountain girl and called the hills his home ever since.Steve over the years learnt and realized the meaning of life and that meant finding happiness, peace, solace and serenity in the little that he had and made that his world. The mountains made Steve a whole new man and made him realize what it meant to live. He took up biking, became a nature and wildlife conservationist and got into eco-tourism by subletting cottages in the estate to the adventurous. Today Steve owns 6 bikes, selectively gives his place up in the hills on rent, bikes across the whole of India and derives happiness at every single step of the way, or hairpin turn on the mountains.Steve and my old man were close and some of the stuff they did back in the old days I’d personally never ever think of trying even today.Some of the wacked out stuff that Steve did back in the day were:• Taking his dog Kanchi (a wire haired Dachund) up for a sortie in a Mig 21; he had Air Force Sergeant Unni make a special harness that strapped Kanchi to his G-suit and took her for 1 sortie below 10,000 ft and did a few high speed passes across the tower.• After a binging session in the Air Force Mess and Club, Steve and a few folks decided to drive a steam roller back home and during the way, decided to say a quick ‘hello’ to the station commanding officer. Steve, while being an outstanding pilot, miscalculated the turn ability of the steam roller and flattened the commanding officers front gate, lawn and porch.• Steve and my old man created a band in the air force and in the day, many a damsel swore that Steve looked like Tony Curtiss, my old man looked by Charles Bronson and another lad they had on the drums resembled Dean Martin. Steve was awesome with the Trumpet but being short-tempered, when he did not get the right note he wanted, he threw the German made trumpet on the floor and stamped it on the stage.• The station Steve was posted in came out with a rule that dogs were to be leashed always at the station(!) so Steve to defy the rule, took Kanchi his dog, on top of his Harley Davidson he had, wore his swimming trunks and rode his bike straight into the swimming pool. That pretty much ended the rule.(!!).If there’s anyone who at any age wants to learn and know the true meaning of life and that too with biking maintenance techniques thrown in, and aint that crazy in the mind to take up smoking weed at 35 or joining the sex oozing Osho Ashram, I recommend spending a week with Steve.To know more about an outstanding human being called Steve Lall, visit www.jilling.net
--------------------------
More stuff about him and his paradise
http://www.hindu.com/mp/2008/01/07/stories/2008010750890400.htm
http://www.jilling.net/articles.html
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
shoulders of giants - part 2
This is an old one. I was at an event in January where Anil Kumble spoke on captainship. He was India’s Captain for a short period and almost took his Bangalore team to victory in the Finals of the IPL. Here are some of the notes I took from that talk he gave. His clarity and experience are worth adapting for any leadership role I guess. What an awesome guy. What an awesome leader.
The first thing that Anil Kumble did on assuming captaincy was to create a document that gave the players a common team ethic and a common goal. Putting it on paper allowed the seriousness of the process to sink.
Some of the points addressed in that document were as below:
Training
Convert training into a team activity to ensure team bonding
Clearly state what the team and the captain expected of them in their training
Create training leaders who would lead the training on a day with clear training roles assigned
Selection
The playing 11 would always be decided one day prior to the match to enable them to be prepared
Give players a long rope and back them especially when they are down
Share the confidence with the players
Personally call the players who were not picked in the fifteen and give possible reasons for their exclusion
Strategy
Create a winning culture by taking calculated risks
Create a core group of senior players while including younger players to ensure that the next generation of leaders would be ready to take on the mantle
Roles
Communicate precise role expected of the player
Back the player in the media if the role was done effectively
Confidence coming in from the captain is important for the player
Attitude
Have intent to win, not just draw the test
No matter how the situation is, no matter how adverse or what the attitude of the opposition is, demonstrate an attitude that you are HERE TO WIN AT ALL COSTS
Goals
Clear stated goal that in 18 months we want to see ourselves as the number one test ranking team in the world
Recognition
Understand that everyone wants recognition; the top player as well as the newcomer
Each one is different and you have to manage each individual differently
Conformity
Communicate very quickly that a player needs to conform to team goals and strategies
Players pulled up in a team environment if they let the team down
Conflicts
Accept that there will be conflicts with diverse individuals in a team
In conflicts, manage the issues rather than looking at who the individuals are
Media Relations
Clear cut policy on talking to media
Strategize on what to speak to the media and accordingly follow it
Parting Thoughts
“At the end of it we are all humans and we all have our emotions. How you connect to those emotions as a leader (and) as group will be the key, and that’s where in these tough times all of us have to address and connect to that human”
The first thing that Anil Kumble did on assuming captaincy was to create a document that gave the players a common team ethic and a common goal. Putting it on paper allowed the seriousness of the process to sink.
Some of the points addressed in that document were as below:
Training
Convert training into a team activity to ensure team bonding
Clearly state what the team and the captain expected of them in their training
Create training leaders who would lead the training on a day with clear training roles assigned
Selection
The playing 11 would always be decided one day prior to the match to enable them to be prepared
Give players a long rope and back them especially when they are down
Share the confidence with the players
Personally call the players who were not picked in the fifteen and give possible reasons for their exclusion
Strategy
Create a winning culture by taking calculated risks
Create a core group of senior players while including younger players to ensure that the next generation of leaders would be ready to take on the mantle
Roles
Communicate precise role expected of the player
Back the player in the media if the role was done effectively
Confidence coming in from the captain is important for the player
Attitude
Have intent to win, not just draw the test
No matter how the situation is, no matter how adverse or what the attitude of the opposition is, demonstrate an attitude that you are HERE TO WIN AT ALL COSTS
Goals
Clear stated goal that in 18 months we want to see ourselves as the number one test ranking team in the world
Recognition
Understand that everyone wants recognition; the top player as well as the newcomer
Each one is different and you have to manage each individual differently
Conformity
Communicate very quickly that a player needs to conform to team goals and strategies
Players pulled up in a team environment if they let the team down
Conflicts
Accept that there will be conflicts with diverse individuals in a team
In conflicts, manage the issues rather than looking at who the individuals are
Media Relations
Clear cut policy on talking to media
Strategize on what to speak to the media and accordingly follow it
Parting Thoughts
“At the end of it we are all humans and we all have our emotions. How you connect to those emotions as a leader (and) as group will be the key, and that’s where in these tough times all of us have to address and connect to that human”
if it ain't broken... break it
Hey hoo hey hoo… I am teaching again. After a bit of intense lobbying and behind the scene action I managed to get back to teaching again. actually it wasn’t so tough but what the hell… teaching is quite an interesting activity for me. It keeps me on my toes, helps me connect to the younger heroes and keeps me level headed. You obliviously need to be well prepared and think quickly. My rules are simple. Have tons of fun, allow for dissent and what the hell – anyone can be right. Some are just more likely to work than others. After all I teach marketing and not a pure empirical science. Logic, research and clear thinking is all that is required. Hopefully I would be able to distill some of it in the students. It pays to be a non conformist when you are teaching the younger guys. The distaste for authority is amazing.
I too have a marked distaste for rigid rules and structures. I have learnt that establishing a few ground rules and letting the rest manage it self within the realms of fuzzy logic works best for the near and the far objectives. Lets take the simple case of these new technologies that are doing the rounds. One guy in my US office got himself a twitter page where he kept putting in updates about the Indian economy and our company. The guys following him (and therefore the reverse as well) were an eclectic bunch of characters right from the straight to the porn pushers. When it did get too popular, the business started looking at it seriously and it got evaluated by the compliance division. The establishment gaped and awed at the following. How could our brand be associated with THIS? Now that page will surely die a young man. New technologies will be disruptive in that they challenge conventional wisdom and may be hard to swallow for most. The younger guys would ignore these aberrations. The word ‘cool’ comes to mind instantly. Ok so you have a gay activist following you – cool. You don’t have anyone following you – cool. As an extension the message for most would be – chill. Relax. Have a cup of coffee. The brand these days would need to be resilient enough to accommodate these outliers as an inevitable part. You cannot avoid bad karma. It might be pointless to fight it. The good karma would need to crowd out the bad karma. The question one needs to ask is how much good karma you are attracting.
A rebel or a non conformist seeks to disregard what it believes is bad karma and embraces good karma. Rebels that catch the imagination of the people are those who redefine by their actions what the fcuk is good or bad karma. I have increasingly felt distaste for suppressive authority. I may not have what it takes to be a Che G but in my own unique way I like to shake things up a bit, rile authority a bit, promote a culture that accepts outliers as agents of change and teach the stiff necks to relax.
Organizations often face the challenge of managing growth and size. Too big to succeed is something I heard my super chief musing around once. Once we become big we out in structures, complex structures, matrix structures, cross reporting structures and the works. What percentage of your time should be reporting versus doing? Accepting it as inevitability is but an ostrich response. Breaking these dogmas is the shivite response. Question and destroy these postulates. This is when strong cultures are important. You don’t need committees and manuals to tell you what to do, you need a peer that’s instills in you the right mindset. When the terrorists attacked the Taj and the Oberoi’s, the staff did not require a manual to tell them to lay down their lives for their duty, they had a culture. Often simpler set of often unwritten beliefs that consistently push the group are more important than any brand / organization manual that you would come across.
The more I read Indian mythology the more I get enamored by it. we have enough Brahmas and Vishnus. People who actively seek to create and more than enough who seek to preserve. They keep their eyes open and take on many avatars and come to the rescue of status quo. They want to be aware. There are too few who keep their eyes shut and are detached from its varied illusions or those who seek to break moulds. The blue skinned and the lotus perched cloud out and silence the ash smeared. We love preserves are fear the destroyers. Should it be the reverse?
I too have a marked distaste for rigid rules and structures. I have learnt that establishing a few ground rules and letting the rest manage it self within the realms of fuzzy logic works best for the near and the far objectives. Lets take the simple case of these new technologies that are doing the rounds. One guy in my US office got himself a twitter page where he kept putting in updates about the Indian economy and our company. The guys following him (and therefore the reverse as well) were an eclectic bunch of characters right from the straight to the porn pushers. When it did get too popular, the business started looking at it seriously and it got evaluated by the compliance division. The establishment gaped and awed at the following. How could our brand be associated with THIS? Now that page will surely die a young man. New technologies will be disruptive in that they challenge conventional wisdom and may be hard to swallow for most. The younger guys would ignore these aberrations. The word ‘cool’ comes to mind instantly. Ok so you have a gay activist following you – cool. You don’t have anyone following you – cool. As an extension the message for most would be – chill. Relax. Have a cup of coffee. The brand these days would need to be resilient enough to accommodate these outliers as an inevitable part. You cannot avoid bad karma. It might be pointless to fight it. The good karma would need to crowd out the bad karma. The question one needs to ask is how much good karma you are attracting.
A rebel or a non conformist seeks to disregard what it believes is bad karma and embraces good karma. Rebels that catch the imagination of the people are those who redefine by their actions what the fcuk is good or bad karma. I have increasingly felt distaste for suppressive authority. I may not have what it takes to be a Che G but in my own unique way I like to shake things up a bit, rile authority a bit, promote a culture that accepts outliers as agents of change and teach the stiff necks to relax.
Organizations often face the challenge of managing growth and size. Too big to succeed is something I heard my super chief musing around once. Once we become big we out in structures, complex structures, matrix structures, cross reporting structures and the works. What percentage of your time should be reporting versus doing? Accepting it as inevitability is but an ostrich response. Breaking these dogmas is the shivite response. Question and destroy these postulates. This is when strong cultures are important. You don’t need committees and manuals to tell you what to do, you need a peer that’s instills in you the right mindset. When the terrorists attacked the Taj and the Oberoi’s, the staff did not require a manual to tell them to lay down their lives for their duty, they had a culture. Often simpler set of often unwritten beliefs that consistently push the group are more important than any brand / organization manual that you would come across.
The more I read Indian mythology the more I get enamored by it. we have enough Brahmas and Vishnus. People who actively seek to create and more than enough who seek to preserve. They keep their eyes open and take on many avatars and come to the rescue of status quo. They want to be aware. There are too few who keep their eyes shut and are detached from its varied illusions or those who seek to break moulds. The blue skinned and the lotus perched cloud out and silence the ash smeared. We love preserves are fear the destroyers. Should it be the reverse?
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