fonts

I have always believed that fonts are important in wherever you use them. They communicate a lot by themselves. They are extremely important; more so in their use in number plates. India is one place where they have still not standardised the number plates. You have all sorts of fonts in all sorts of languages being used. The road traffic guys came up with a norm that you must use only English and that you can’t have any other stickers or embellishments on the same. A lot of this is being flouted in any case with political patronage being shown to religious affiliation. Worst is the fonts being used. I hated the rounded font that came in with my i-ten. Really crappy.
My wife and I must have knocked the car around a few times and the number plate in front had cracked. Once we got the thing precariously handing by one screw after giving the car at a shop valet service. We are not too fussy about car looks. So just cellotaped the dam plate back in and carried on as usual.
This monsoon the rains washed away the cellotape and voila one day the number plate had vanished. Now to get a new plate. Finally. So go to the place and chosoe for a plate. He shows a few designs but my eye goes on a specific one. It’s the international standard kind of design. He says that this is a radio chip plate that will become compulsory in a years time. The government has just allowed for introduction right now before they clamp down on all the plates. Both of us did not really care for the story. We just thought it looked really nice. The numbers were clear and the plate somehow was just right. That’s the things with fonts. Sometimes they just seem .. right.

Now I have been roaming around with this number plate pretty proud. They cost 5 times as the simple plastic ones. Today Jispa saw the number plate and remarked “you know dad. This number plate looks good.” “ya? What about it?” “The number look clear and somehow the number plate by itself looks good. I like it”
Even an eight year old can see the difference that fonts can make. It is that perceptible.

Here are a few number plates that the Delhi traffic website has put up as wrong designs. These are still better than some of the others that are on the road. In between the fad was to put a silhouette of the maratha king shivaji on it. I don’t know how that meant to be a mark of respect. That the muddy part of your car that you normally don’t even want to touch. Some how the worst offenders are always the right winged political leaners.

teach me teach you

Parenting is fun. There is a constant tussle where one tri to se through the games or the situation that the child is in. And you are up there sitting pretty and trying to be fair as well as fun as well inculcates discipline. So while you have the upper hand most of the time the greatest pride comes in when your kid can teach you stuff. No I don’t mean that they do their simple things and you end up deriving some great deep thought. Something such as – see the innocence and the unbridled trust that kids have. That is meant for the preachers to sell books after they sell their ferraries. I cant stand that crap. Sometimes though I do think that I can make a living doing that. Gyan or fart as it is commonly called is cheap. All you have to do is dig for some deeper meaning wrap it up in some dumbfounding logic and appeal to a person’s ‘dormant’ self actualised soul.
No, the fun is when you daughter who is eight can really teach you. This time around whoile having a conversation on swimming my daughter was telling me that the coach was stressing the importance of putting your one ear in water while resurfacing to breathe. I thought that was cool. I did not know that. I tried it the next morning to see my speed increase. I felt like a rocket. But I was so happy that my daughter was teaching me what to do. Especially in sports. She has already gone far ahead of me in swimming. She knows the four strokes and she is working on speed and stamina. Now I am dying to see her and compete with her in the pool. Let’s see now who wins. Me, all old and technique less will be a worthy competitor for her with right technique and possibly better stamina.
Same way I am also dying to play badminton with her. I always have had the dream that I will play sports with my daughter. Any sports. Even board games. They would give me immense satisfaction. Slowly she is reaching an age where I might be able to play with her a lot of things, besides nanu baby and motu baby. That will be fun. I look forward to it.
I look forward to conversations where we both contribute to each others learnings. In the near future (very near future) there is going to be one such opportunity. Jisps’s teacher told her that microwave food is bad for health. Ya sure, I have heard that a lot. There even might be truth in it. The other thing she said was that if you give microwave water to the plants then they will die. Ok. I wanted to smash that one but I was also not 100 % sure if that was the case.
I also wanted her to know that teachers / text books and others can be wrong. In this case I am sure her teacher must be led astray not by scientific argument but by an email that claims to be scientific. So now we have a golden opportunity to know the truth and allow for Jispa to question dogma. So I am hunting for a money plant. That’s the easiest plant to grow at home. Jispa and I decided that we will see it for ourselves. She was so excited about it yesterday but I couldn’t get a money plant at 9 pm.
So instead merely telling the teacher that she is right or wrong, we will prove it and merely state the facts of what we saw. That’s the way to do it. We will do it for ourselves and see the difference. We will take photos and then take these to the teacher for show and tell. This will not be an internet search but a proper experiment. Now where do I get two dam money plants?

there is no such thing as a simple answer while you are parenting

Life is more predictable once Jispa’s school starts. Waking up on time, sleeping on time, yoga on time and swimming on time. The whole thing is getting the routine as an integral part of the biological clock. I don’t know whether the routine is good and I like it or I get bored by it. It cuts both ways. The vacations allow for a far more relaxed and impulsive behaviour. Here the action only starts on Friday night and is necessarily over by Sunday afternoon. Sunday is an early to bed night.
The last week we were at our friends place for a house warming party. We stayed up till 2 am playing the popular party game – mafia. Getting home by 3 and then into bed to wake by 10. That is the perfect way to end the vacation. As a result of that late night, the house was all asleep on Sunday night by 9.15 pm. I get very excited when I get to sleep this early. I was cranky all vacation thanks to the late nights.
Early nights have been a bit of a jinx for me. There will always be something or the other disturbing me. Invariably if everything else works, Jispa will come in at night on some pretext or the other. But luckily that Sunday we slept well and through the night. Monday morning was a breeze.
The week though that followed was a mix with Jispa behaving like any kid and taking time to get up. Five minutes please, last five minutes, ok ok one minute, last minute…. And so on. I have to every time physically life her and get her to the bathroom. If at this time she makes one cranky sound then she is done for. After all the cuddling and waking and the lifting, the last thing I want to hear is the cranky sound. She knows that. Invariably she lets one slip and she gets a sharp reprimand. It will last a few days and then the cycle begins all over again.
But as I have blogged about before, the great thing is the quality time I get while I drop her off. Time to talk, have fun, enjoy in the car till the school bus comes. Today she generally popped one question of India and Pakistan were once great enemies? Were? I asked her. India is still at loggerheads with Pakistan and China. She then wanted to know how come. I thought that was an innocuous enough question with a straight forward answer. I was so wrong.
Luckily Jispa is not the type to keep asking stupid questions one after the other. But her ability to understand, grasp and relate is so awesome that it puts pressure on you to think through and talk. And so I kept talking, and talking, till just about when the bus came in. I think the story took a full ten minutes. How Muslims and Hindus were in India, then the moghuls came in and then the jazia tax, conversion. The Moghuls helped establish a large ‘Indian’ kingdom which was till then divided into many small kingdoms, then the British came in, they wanted spices, then they stayed on to rule, then they had this divide and rule policy, the dominion states and then independence, the great partition, the Kashmir issue and how we forever remained enemies. And then how we interfered in their East Pakistan issue, Bangladesh, a few wars….
Blah blah blah. It was so tough. Especially since I am not a history student and I know that what I know is a stupid one sided version that was taught in our text books. I try and be objective about the whole affair.
Sure there were conversions, but also the Hindus did not treat the poor too well, the ghettos developed and it brought about even more divisive force. It was quite a task trying to explain history and be objective.
I also realised while talking that how we talk about how we helped “Free” Bangladesh. Since when did interfering in your neighbour’s house with force and imposing your solution count as a noble cause? But then you had millions of Bngladeshies who were worse off as East Pakistan with little development and lots of poverty. I would never know the truth. What really happened? History text books were so dam bloody one sided to start with.
I want Jispa to do her own research and form her own opinions. I want her to contest text books and see things in a larger context. Understand the two sides to a coin. On man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.
So the problem is - not knowing the whole truth, trying to balance what you know, impart a lesson, a story, make it interesting and simple for a kid and teach them to form their own thoughts. What a freaking difficult task. What ever happened to ‘daddy knows it all and you cant dispute it’ parenting?

learn well

We have been struggling with Jispa’s classes. We believe in extra curriculars and the value of getting right guidance and opportunity early on but the sheer breadth of what she is doing is leaving us a little.. I don’t know a little worried, amused, sceptical, scared…
To list – she has a core activity in school. She learns taekwondo there twice a week. Then five days a week she goes to swim. Now thanks to the coaching she swims well and knows all the strokes. She is progressing well and swimming fast. I am happy. Swimming is something that would last her for life and a good swimming will help her keep fit. Thrice a week after the swimming class she goes for some badminton. That’s also a good thing. I guess.
We don’t know for sure if she can take all this physical exertion. It is tough and we are worried. But jasmine and I are quite clear; we are not pushing her to do all this. We keep asking her if she is enjoying all this. Doe she really want to do it? Is she getting tired at any point/ we don’t want to be parents who push the kid into all sorts of activities and punish the child. But Jispa is super eager and willing. She wants to do it and she enjoys it all.
We also realise that right now there is little school home work. Her pressure will start from the fourth or the fifth standard. Then she would have to give up some of her activities and concentrate on a just a few. Till then, Jasmine recons that she is free to have her fun. Also what helps is that this is all TV time that is being spent playing and training. She comes home to dinner and reading. Saturday Sunday is rest time and sometimes I drag her to the garden. She is active and loves that as well.
Recently she decided that she wanted to learn the guitar. Oh god. How and where. Jasmine figured that a friend had a sir coming home and was teaching the guitar to her kid. Jispa was quite eager to join. I have always wanted to learn music and one of my current thoughts was that both jasmine and I don’t know music. That is one thing that we would be absolutely unable to teach her. We have no clue.
As a kid once I decided I wanted to learn the guitar. My dad encouraged me and bought me a guitar. An expensive proposition in those days. It cost a bomb. I remember 500 bucks for a Givson guitar. I learnt it a bit but complete laziness in practice and no push and I started to flounder and completely missed that bus.
I have thought a lot about it since then. This was in the sixth standard. Why did I not learn? Was I just not made for it? Did I not enjoy it?
I think that learning anything requires a bit of pain and a lot of discipline. It did not come naturally to a sixth grader like me. I was a maverick in many ways. Could I have changed? i see so many households that music is an intrinsic part of their lives. They breathe music and it plays from every corner and every reason is a good reason to play or listen to music. For me music never held too much importance. It is nice and good but I could go on and live my life without music. I enjoy it but ... just that it isn’t that necessary as I see others live and breathe it. I was happy growing up to my brother and sister’s choice of music. I couldn’t care less. If it’s on – good, if its off good. I am not the type to ‘invest’ in a fantastic player.
Jispa seems to be enjoying her music. and I really did not want to say no to her for learning anything. Jasmine would shoulder a lot of the responsibility in taking her to the classes and ensuring she does pay attention. Jispa went for one class and came back eager for more. The time had come to buy her a guitar as there is no point going for classes once a week and not practising at home. A guitar for her would cost around three thousand. I had a chat with Jispa. I told her that it’s not the money. We can afford it and more. I don’t care about the money but if we are buying you a guitar you better practice it daily. I did not want any guilt feelings on her for spending money, but I sure don’t want her abandoning pursuits on a whim. That is something I refuse to let her do. So before sleeping every day, she has to practice a bit. I told her that I would insist on it and ensure mom insists as well. Sometimes we would scold her and make her do it, even against her wishes. She agreed and she got her brand new guitar.
I believe that kids are keen to learn new stuff but then tend to get bored by the long grind between knowing a bit and then experiencing the fun of then knowing a little more. This was the same thing in swimming and her other pursuits. You have to get through the second phase when the practice gets boring and you don’t get immediate results. Once you pass through this you tend to pick things and learn enough for what will stay for life. I guess that’s where the parent’s push comes in. Give the opportunity, push to ensure the boredom phase passes, and then back off. No pressure to perform. None from us. Pressure to learn well but don’t give great emphasis on performance.
My parents held me responsible for buying an expensive guitar and then letting go. That huge thing in the house kept reminding then that I quit. I won’t let that happen to Jispa. It came up in many conversations later. I guess I was at fault. But at least I know the mistake I made. At least I will let Jispa make new ones. I will for sure make new ones. No point forgetting old lessons.
Pushing and then backing off. Parenting is such a fine line that I never know where exactly to draw. actually its not a line its a zone kid of line. It merges slowly from one side to another. Makes sense? No?... Exactly.

one cause, two ideas

Reading is always cool. Its always fun to read an interesting book. But I completely love it when I get a series to read. When you like a particular topic and then you get two or three books one after another to read. My favourite example was when I read Wisdom of the Crowds, followed by The Search followed by The Google story. It seemed like a trilogy of sorts. They all contribute to a deeper understanding of the topic.
While a series in a particular topic is fun, I have had the greatest fun reading two books which are in opposition to each other. Their roots are so similar but the protagonist choose to take drastically different paths to reach what essentially be a single goal. A prophet of hate versus an apostle of peace. Forgive the clichés. But the two books I have had the greatest fortune of reading back to back are – Malcolm X and Invictus. One is the biography of Malcom X, the big black leader from US who spread hate against the ‘white man’ and the other is on how Nelson Mandela spread peace and reconciliation with the ‘white man’. Invictus was originally published as playing the Enemy. I think they changed the name once it got made into a movie ‘invictus’.
But the two books offer an interestingly stark opposite. Both the men faced discrimination thanks to the color of their skin. They both came back from their jail terms, completely changed. But I just loved how one preached hate and the other went out of his way to preach love. Their mission in many ways was the same… uplifting their people.
Malcolm X answer was to create greater differentiation. Change the religion, build higher walls and create greater cohesion. Though he seems to gave changed his world view after coming in from his trip to Mecca. But still there was still hate and anger in him. A rabble rousers with strong oratory skills. A debater who could twist and turn topics on its end. A bull dozer.
Contrast with Mandela who it seems had basic oratory skills. Whose greatest weapon was the charm offensive, who wanted to win hearts and reconcile with those who hated him. In the books he comes across as a shrewd but honest politician who smartly managed those around him to ensure they are enlisted for his greater cause.
Both books to my mind were a bit disappointing. As in they weren’t that bad but they had the potential to be absolutely great. But then on the other hand if they had used to much prose then they would risk being even more one sided than what they turned out to be. But still that is no excuse not to read them. I understood a lot about the segregation in both the countries, while it also helped me reinforce my stand on dialogue. Malcolm taught me what not to do and Mandela taught me what to.
As a kid I think I was fooled into thinking that those with the strongest and forceful argument said with the most emphasis is what is needed to succeed. All this would get enforced by the guys who win the debates and elocution competition. Complete emphasis on the style of debate rather than the substance. I have always felt that simple well thought of arguments are pretty much lost on the judge. The crowd and the judge fall for the Malcolm X of the speakers. These boys (like me) believe that just because they have superb oratory skills they can succeed in life. They use their power or talking and debate to get them out of shit all the time. Office are full of bosses that get swayed to powerful speeches and presentations. What is the substance of the same? How should one dig deeper and find a solution. How one should avoid rhetoric and focus on simple truths and principals that get you forward.
Over aperiod of time, I have come to slowly hate my argument skills. I find it irritating that I have to use empty arguments to make points. Simple concepts simply explained have no meaning for people. And I possibly am not patient enough. Sometimes I feel hat the means justify the end. Give them the oratory that they require and forget the small simple truths… as long as you know you are doing what’s right.
Similarly it is also difficult to sell some vendor internally if the vendor comes across a s timid sweet guy as oppose to the brash suit clad big show. Style is so dam important. There is no dearth of the flaky rascals who put so much emphasis on style and completely gloss over substance. They are obviously getting results and hence they continue to do what they are doing.
What to do. Stay at the grid… keep at it. and pray… books like this remind me that I must keep my guard. I must not let myself be misled by the flaky guy.. that’s easy. More importantly I must be aware of the simple sweet guy who possibly has more substance than anyone else. I have tried many of these in the past. They have invariably been good. They have given stellar results, but the bosses just do not seem to care. We will change the world for sure. Its take one soul at a time. One project at a time. We need to notice and support more Mandela’s and fewer Malcolms.

Clarification- I got nothing against Malcolm X. I think he seems to be a genuine but a bit confused guy. He was shot early before he could possibly understand himself. He was possibly as important to black America as another black leader. To my mind he was young blood led by someone. My emphasis is on their styles and the choice they took. To my mind both are heroes who tried to change the lives of their people. That is commendable enough. I just believe that one way is far superior to the other. I still believe in ‘gandhigiri’.
Also both are the truth, both had a reason, both had valid arguments. i dare say - a case of opposites reconciling. They did - I dont knwo how but in my mind they did.

dream a little dream

My method of teaching Jispa to combat nightmares is giving me nightmares. As I have earlier blogged, all I do is change the channel. Basically I can change my dreams at will. If the nightmare is getting to me I invent an interesting way to get off it. So when Jispa was first having nightmares I told her that you can simply change it.
So now she thinks about solving her nightmares. Yesterday night after a long time she came and woke me up in the middle of the night. “Dad” pat pat pat.. She had to get me to wake up. “Dad, I need to solve this bad dream”. Oh ok. It was a chase kind of sequence. A ha. I was lucky that’s the easy one. If someone is chasing you and you want to get away, all you have to do is think up some real easy thing – like a rope can appear from anywhere taking you out, or you can cross some river which they cant or something. It’s pretty simple. Some one can give you a magic potion that can turn them into something more benign. The chase ones are pretty cool. It all depends on the settings. Are you watching a sci-fi or an urban setting or a fantasy? There is always a lovely creative way out.
Jispa interestingly sees it or has interpreted it as ‘solving’ the bad dream. She looks for a solution to the dream. I am not sure if like me she can merely put the solution on the dream itself seamlessly. I think she has break it to solve it and bang its gone.
The tough ones for me are the abstract dreams, which give you the scare like nightmares. They … I don’t know… I think they kind of keep the heart rate up and tense your brain a bit. But all you dream is patterns, these repeating patterns create some kind of tension. It’s something I have had since I was a kid. Now I rarely dream them. I normally get them when I am unwell. So on some nights, probably after Chinese food dinners or something similar, when I get them, I tend to like them. I keep dreaming them. It’s like paying money to watch a horror film. More like a thriller movie. It keeps you on the edge. It’s kind of weird. These dreams I can’t will to happen but when they do I seize the moment. What I find funny is that as I write this blog I realise that I do all this in my sleep.
My wife finds all this pretty funny. She knows I am nuts in any case. This is one more proof. Both my sister and I can change dream channels. And my brother claims that he gets no dreams at all. What a weird family.
A ha… one dream I cannot change is being ill prepared for an exam. That one requires me to get up and remind my self that I need give those exams any more. I need to be semi awake and get my reassurance from my memory. Schooling has me permanently scarred. I don’t know how much else it gave me.
Yesterday I was speaking to a good friend. She was teaching her child to write while she was talking to me. The child was just a little under four. She was getting him to do home work. What shit? Home work for a 4 year old. that too on writing numbers. She was going nuts. I kept telling in the entire conversation to back off. She was like ‘the school is putting too much pressure. He needs to do this home work. It was to be submitted tomorrow. You don’t know. Tomorrow if he fails every one will ask me. And on and on.’ Poor thing. I know her. She is not like that as a person. It’s the school that made her so. It is the school which is putting the pressure on the mother to bring out the kali in her. At the end I left the argument with a simple advice. Do what you want to do and what you believe in. Please do not let the school do what you think you must not. You choose and try and keep the school out of your sphere of influence. That’s all. The penny sunk. She said yes. Wow. My day was made.
I try my best to think of my values, my thought process, and my beliefs. I try not to let the school, the peer and the others get in the way. Sure I am open to stimuli, but then that’s that… stimuli. It is easier said than done. You struggle all the time. You don’t know most of the time why you have acted. I try and keep centred when I am in trouble or in conflict while parenting. It is bloody difficult. But I know I must. I have to. I don’t want to give someone nightmares. No way.

football

In some ways I hate Jispa’s vacation. It takes my morning schedule and throws it out of the window. Jasmine too believes she is on vacation further compounding matters. Hence thanks to that we don’t sleep early we wake up later and I barely get time for my morning yoga and swimming. I guess I have learnt not to fight it too much I just get on with it. I have decided it takes too much effort and will power on my side to break away from the family ritual and I stay on in bed and just about manage to amble in to office on time.
I am just dying for the school to start. Morning yoga and morning swim is just the right thing for me. I have been getting too soft and hopefully the coming Monday will see me back to the good old schedule.
To make matter worse the general uplift in work load means very little time for writing my blog. I like to come in a bit early and sit down and write before the office wakes up. So today I missed yoga and a swim but I managed to come in early just to write the blog. Somehow this blog has become an important creative release for me. I feel it gives meaning to some activity of mine. I don’t know. But its fun writing.
Talking about activity… no matter how much you exercise every sport is different and has its own nuances. On Saturday we had the intra office soccer tournament. It was a five a side affair with tiny grounds and small goal posts. Played in rain on grass, it makes for a wet, horribly soggy ground and a mud wrestle of a match. Its complete chaos. And after the tournament day you discover some muscles that you never knew you had. While walking the first time I felt that there was muscle a little over the shin and below the knee. Till now I thought it was all bone.
The reason I can feel this muscle on my right leg is because I am the defender. My job is to kick the ball right into the other half. The muddy ground makes passing impossible and the water soaked patches makes dribbling a farce. And in five a side there is no office rule. I learnt this lesson around five years ago. Just kick the ball over every ones head into the other side. Most teams make this mistake of dribbling and passing and slow short passes or solo runs by the star. The star player is simply supposed to hang around the opposite goal. Two defenders are enough to save almost any goal from the amateur sides. Especially when there is soo much muck floating around. Also with seven minutes a half, the referee is not going to blow the whistle often and on most fowls. You have to be blatantly dragging the guy down to really give away a foul. It is an ugly slug fight.
Some patches are so water logged that there is atleast a foot of water. We had one area near the goal post. There the forwards were fighting with the defender, the goalies joined in, no one really knows who is in which team, everybody is covered in brown. People are fighting and falling all over the ball. The goalie cant get a grip on the ball. At one point the defender had come sliding in, the goal had jumped over him, the attacker was down and eth ball… the ball was somewhere near the led of eth defender and under the stomach of the attacker. Then another defender comes in and tries to kick the ball which is under the stomach of the fallen attacker. All this in one foot of water, and the rain is still coming down hard. Finally the ref had enough and blew the whistle for dangerous play. Penalty. As a defender I was happy that the ball wasn’t kicked my way. I had tears in my eyes from all the laughing thank to the sight.
The penalty spot was in 4 inches of water. The attacker managed to put the ball there and he took a kick. What do you expect? The ball did not even reach the goal post.
That’s football for you. Good fun nah? Well it’s a male thing. All that physical exertion, hardly any skill, lots of mud and a general fight on hands.
I guess there is reason why we like cricket over football as a nation and I really don’t know what Girish says about Indian genetics and football :) (he does make sense) but all I know that I don’t see too many Indians falling over and rolling in mud trying to play this game. Like most writers without substantial proof I feel like saying ‘it’s too anti Brahminical to succeed in India’. But like most truths, I think the answer might be a curious mix and match of many more characteristics. Sometimes I believe it’s simply a case of lack of role models.
My brother used to play very good football. In fact he was given the haloed number ten jersey while he played at school. My mom told him that football will never sustain him as a career. While my sweet dad loved sports and tried to support him in his game, at some time he knew it was education that would hold him in his life not football. I don’t think our parents ever saw that it was possible to play football and make a career. My brother is only one. There were many such talented player who just about killed their talent and love with education. My guess is that only after Sachin really made it big and showed how its possible to play cricket and make money that so many parents supported their kid’s cricketing ambitions. Till about them most of the players who played for India generally belonged to the upper class.
Which makes me think. Do kids require role models or is it parents who require role models. A kid simply plays, it’s the environment that supports him or not, basis their own beliefs. Hmmm… I am thinking.

when genius is bored

Today I was listening to one of the world’s greatest chess players, Anatoly Karpov (link). It was a nice interview. One thing he said found resonance in my thinking. He said he was bad at theory of chess openings. While it was a bad thing for chess player, he also says that not knowing the theory helped him fight back at apparently losing causes, resulting in a quite a few successes. The reason he did not learn them too well… ‘it was boring’. Not quite the answer you expect from a grandmaster, a champion that ruled for ten years.
Was the era different? Is it that in today’s environment you cannot effectively compete if you aren’t ruthless? Possibly he got beaten by Kasporav precisely because of that. May be, may be not. I am not a chess expert to explain that detail.
but I guess I might be a bit of hypocrite here. I like to enjoy my game and play what I like and enjoy and avoid eth boring stuff, but as a spectator I don’t quite like to see a team that does not necessarily put up the best.
It puts me at an awkward junction as a parent. Jispa is currently learning a few sports. Being thin and naturally athletic she tends to outperform her peers. Hopefully she might end up being good at what she does. But I don’t know how to push her. My philosophy has been not to push hard. Sure I will insist discipline on training, eating and competing but I really don’t want to push her. Enjoying what you do is most important. Both jasmine and I are on the same page here. We keep asking her, if she really wants to continue any sport. Only on hearing an emphatic yes do we continue paying the fees.
As a kid I wasn’t too athletic or gifted in many ways. My brother was the natural. My dad was ok with me doing what I want. So while I started a few things I was lazy and never managed to stick around for too much to any thing. Largely my fault. I regret not doing, not pushing then. If had pushed my parents I might have done better. If my parents pushed me, I might have done better.
As a parent I realise that. So we try and give maximum opportunities for Jispa. We want to ensure that the platform is there. Once she takes the call to do it, we ensure that we don’t let her slack off. If you do it you do it well. But at the same time, I don’t want her to get bored with what she does. It is difficult to motivate yourself for all the hard work involved but also at the same time you have to enjoy what you do.
Motivation at the end must come from within. Hence what’s right is to ensure as a parent, I press the right buttons. She doesn’t have to do it for me, but I have to make her aware if she wants to do it or not. The consequences of her having and not having desire must be laid out to her. So the whole aim must be to kindle that motivation, to ensure it’s internal, to have values of hard work and acceptance nay enjoyment of the pain it gives. If I guess we manage to get that in, we are done.
So where does that leave Karpov’s comment? Can only a genius say that and get away with it? It worked 30 years ago, now is a different ball game? If I want to be good at my job I can’t be bored by it, if I am bored at it then I need to get a different job. But a different job is not that easy hence do the job and don’t get bored by it. Find challenges inside of it, no matter how mundane. Are these answers or questions.
It is a delicate balance between the two.
But clearly Karpov enjoyed what he did enough to not do the part of it that he got bored by. It’s an interesting situation to be in. and its not that he was bad at it, he probably knew that he could afford to get bored by a section of it.
At the end of the post I am not sure what to make of it. But it does leave me with room for thought.

play on kid

Jispa had her elder cousin over at our place yesterday. They are now at an age where they can play with each other without the elder guy really irritating Jispa and Jispa is able to stand on her own. They tend to have their own brand of fun.
They both like a particular comic strip and they were playing a game inspired by it.
Here is one photo of them playing.

Did you get it? nopes? Possibly this one should help

How about this one? This one?Or this. Drat – missed them as well.
Come on… this one is a dead give away.
Now did you get the comic strip they are inspired from?


They are playing Calvin and Hobbes running off on a wagon …

now did you get the resemblance? its quite funny once you know.

Here they are after they bang the scooter into something or the other. It normally ends as a 'stunt'. Uncontrollable laughter follows.

there is something about opposites that i love

gyan on the Natraj with reference to my blog title and previous blog.
source: http://www.hinduism.co.za/nataraj.htm
A strictly bounded body does not exist. Our roots go deep; we are anchored in the stars.
The biodance, the constant renewal of our body from the world outside, stands in playful contrast to our ordinary idea of death. We do not wait on death, for we are constantly returning to the earth while alive. Every living moment a portion of the billions of atoms in our body returns to the world outside. This constant streaming is so pronounced, so necessary for life, that the very notion of 'boundary' begins to appear as an arbitrary idea rather than a physical reality.
The dance of Shiva is considered an act of creation. It arouses dormant energies.This productive energy of the Absolute in its pristine strength represents the forces of evolution and involution, the appearance and disappearance of the universe.
Every aspect of life has two opposite entities. Deva is the divine principle and Bhuta is matter. Deva is light , truth and immortality; Bhuta is darkness, untruth and death. One is positive and the other is negative; one is life and the other is inertia. The cycle of life and death can only proceed when these two basic opposite forces, represented by the Devas and the Bhutas are finally reconciled. These two opposite principles are eternally in conflict (Daivasuram) but become reconciled in the body of Shiva. Their co-existence is expressed in the rhythm of Shiva's dance.
Natraj - the cosmic dancer - represents the constant biodance of life- creation, maintenance and transformation and indicates the perfect balance between life and death. Shiva's dance is the most inspiring and pragmatic act typifying the eternal rhythm which is the cause of the infinite creative process. Shiva is the presiding deity of the mind. The entire universe created by Shiva is his SHAKTI (Prakriti, or Nature) or energy. Shiva's dance movements represent the movement of his SHAKTI or energy.

see and tell

Indian museums are surely getting nicer. Nopes they aren’t doing anything new. They only seem to have allowed some private guy to sell handsets that give you a low down on the museums most interesting exhibits. That completely changed the way I saw the Prince of Wales museum in Mumbai. We have been through it twice with the handsets. These well produced audio tours are well produced and manage to give you interesting insights with an Indian accented person talking along with the right music and other sounds. It’s a proper two hour tour which completely opens up the museum for lay people.
We also pleasantly surprised to have the same service in the Delhi museum. The Delhi museum is nice with some very interesting exhibits. It is even air conditioned making it a perfect place for an afternoon refuge. We use the compulsory layover in Delhi, in between the Rajdhani arrival and the late even train departure to the hills as an excuse to see Delhi one monument at a time. I normally book an A/c cab to take us through the day. This time the cab driver had no clue where the museum was. He was a Delhi tourist driver and had never been to the place. I was quite surprised. Luckily I had the lonely planet handy and I showed him the location on the map. He remarked that he had never been here. He mumbled something about people normally wanting to go to appu ghar instead. He knew where that was. Haha. Same difference, I guess. Only thing is that the elephant here is around 5000 years.
So we went to the museum to find that it opens later in the morning. So some standard tomfoolery around rashtrapti bhavan and we managed to kill some time to hit the museum. Monuments are always interesting. Everytime I see the India gate I am quite amazed at the geometry. The straight lines that lead to the Rashtrapti Bhavan and I there is something right about what you see through the India gate if you stand dead straight. I am sure the Lutyens had visualised what you must see from the gate of the Rashtrapti Bhavan through the India gate and vice versa. The lines seem to fit so correctly. I tried showing that to Jispa. She seems to be appreciating my attempt to educate her. Haha.


We then hit the museum and had the audio tour guide us. I am no museum expert. But somehow it misses the aura and charm of the Mumbai museum. Possibly its the structure but the even the way the museum is designed or the stuff is exhibited, it somehow does miss the charm. There is little natural light and the whole place is badly lit. Almost a drab. As I had earlier blogged about – the highlight was what is believed to be the actual remain s of the Buddha. No idea why it isn’t so publicised. No one believes it when I tell them. I have to show the photograph.


Here am I with another exhibit. The Natraj. To me my fascination with it suddenly began when I decided to understand it further. To me it is the Indian equivalent of the yin and yan. The confluence of two opposing forces together in one frame. To my mind – in harmony. I don’t know if they are supposed to be in harmony in the Natraj, but for me it is something that yin and yan stood for, the belief that opposites must reconcile. One is merely a reason for the other. One cannot have one without the other. Nopes, I did not bother explain that to Jispa for now, but what I loved was explaining the damuru for the creation and the fire for destruction. The right hand in a mudra that symbolises protection, the other hand pointing towards the toe, and finally the stamp on top of the demon of ego and ignorance. I too don’t remember all the significance at all the times. The audio tours helps.


I am sure Jispa would not be able to retain it all but I guess the fun of being in a museum and discovering it all is something jasmine and I are very happy to have given her. We both attempt to explain and expose her to as many concepts as possible. We want her to ask many questions and seek many answers. I am happy answering but I guess I am at the happiest best when I finally don’t know. When her curiosity gets better of me and I am finally lost. That’s a victory.

Here is the ultimate photo. She is on her own trying to understand an exhibit. We were too tired to be involved in all. Not enough seating there, but Jispa wanted to see it all. He knows at last my response will, dont know, will have to ask Google.


PS: Why dont we have audio tours by age. Shouldn't the younger lot also have a custom designed audio tour?

see it slink

The slinky is one of the coolest toys ever to have been invented. The sheer simplicity and the magnitude of imagination involved from the child make it a winner. We were roaming around Rishikesh when I spotted a stall selling the slinky. It didn’t immediately strike me to buy it.

On our way back I told Jispa that I will get for her a surprise. We stopped at the stall and bought her a slinky. One of the best thirty bucks I must have ever spent. Jispa took to it in an instant. Suddenly it became the Slinky. It had emotions, it had feelings, it could be put to bed, it needed to be played with, it danced, it loved doing something and did not love something else. It was full time pass for her and me. I told her that while I was a kid I too loved having a Slinky and I had to plead to get it. Times have changed and we have grown richer as well. So I guess her childhood would be slightly better than mine in some respects atleast.
Jasmine and I tend to talk to her like adults. Like a sponge se soaks it all up. Once I was talking about how prices rise and how the same thing over a period of time will cost more money and explained the term inflation to her. She not only understood it but also this time around while I was explaining that the cost of the slinky would have gone up, she said, dad dad… wait. Is that that thing you taught me.. in.. in ..in ..iflat or something.. inflation. Yess… its pretty cool. She likes to know the new words and new terms and I love explaining it to her.
Vacations are meant for that. we see stuff, I talk and explain stuff. We discuss concepts and science and a lot of GK. It is really very good fun. Vacations give concentrated time for doing this. It gives plenty of opportunity to explore and new things to see. It is not just relaxation but a lot of interaction.
One of the demands form my team in office was to get something from my vacation, that tey can keep in office. I searched for the most atrocious thing I could lay my hands on. I wasn’t going to get something sweet and cute for sure. While searching for eth atrocious, Jispa picked up the word and she loved it. She tried using it in a few sentences. She still does. What I finally ended up buying was not so atrocious as it was outrageous. A neon orange flying plastic hanuman.

Coming back to the slinky. Yesterday Jispa had a friend over from her class. Together purely for entertainment I got out some 30-40 books and created a staircase the slinky could jump from. It is the coolest thing ever. That alone resulted in 3 hours of fun for them. It was fun getting it right. The right height between the steps and the right width of each step for the slinky to climb down from. Super cool. Try it at home and be amazed for hours.

did I know that?

The bandh and a general state of mind that has helped me clear some of my immediate complexities has helped me overcome some of my writers block. It would be appropriate now to write a few more posts and keep my general average up there. The number is simple. One for every day at work. This is in many ways a daily purpose for me. For some reason it gives me meaning.
I also believe that writing a blog has helped me understand my own thoughts. It’s like talking to someone while explaining some stuff. Many times you also don’t kow its there till you blurt it out. And then you feel like a super smart guy. It is the same as having to remember your reading while you are having a conversation. Sometimes I am completely surprised by what I can recollect from what all I have read. There are so many books and if someone would ask me specific questions out of context on a particular book, I am always afraid that I might come up short. That I might not know a dam thing and all my reading is pretty superfluous and a put on.
Just yesterday I was making my profile. That too after a period of at least 8 years. I found it difficult and possibly it was lethargy that made me not make it. One push from a placement consultant tipped over the simmering discontent and I resolved to make one over the weekend. I decided that it won’t be as simple as the others I have seen but would allow for writing some interesting lines. One of things that I wrote was that if you want to know a bit of me you could access my goodreads account at http://goodreads.com/jaimit . As I checked it to see if the link was working, the first book that stared me in the face was ‘Simplexity’. While promising, it did not really go anywhere or did not have anything great to tell me. My mind was blank as I stared at the book. If the interviewer would go online and check the link and ask me from that book. I would probably draw a blank. With that book in hand I would possibly recollect a lot, but off hand it was that – a simple book that went nowhere. At least for me. The second and third books there also did not do me any good. Then some other books appeared down the scroll to give me a few breathing moments.
My philosophy has been simple while reading books. I cant recollect a lot of what I read but every book gives you one or two simple learnings that you could use somewhere. And that if you need something, you should be able to find it upon searching. That should be enough. It is always exciting for me when someone comes home and wants me to recommend books. I start off slowly but soon enough the connections come through and the recommendations start flowing. I suddenly realize what it is to be well read. I then take heart that my years of reading is not that much of a waste.
Years of? Well just about 6 years of reading. But that to me seems like a life time. all those books that gave me infinite amount of learning and I dare say wisdom. Today I know that my thinking has been strongly influenced by my reading. My ideas, my thought process, my views, my ability to balance my thoughts. It has taken my core, shook it a bit and settled it all nicely and neatly. The ‘mental jigsaw’ as someone once called it, is constantly changing and evolving. Sometimes it takes one sentence to shake it and re fit and sometimes you don’t even know that it has taken shape. You only realize it in hind sight when you think about your actions and thought process.
There is a great deal of significance I put on to thought process. I wonder if that is a good thing or it’s simply a case of too much thinking. I like to think about the basics. Some simple rules of thumb, some principles that aid thought process. But I like it and think its pretty cool. I cant understand those who cant. Till sometime back I thought they were just plain dumb or that their thought process was too undefined for it. But now I belive that its not so. There are som any who possibly don’t over think. They keep their mind free and uncluttered. They have simple principles that they too evaluate and change of a period of time. they just cant articulate it enough or are unable to talk at length about it.
We put too much emphasis on being able to talk and express and hence we have great orators as leaders. But if only put enough emphasis on understanding the person… what their real thoughts are… see if they fit the situation, see if they can be channelized, magic can happen. It’s easier said than done. It requires a lot more mere intent. The pressure is on us to know and dig forever and not take what the natural orators give us. Yesterday at class I gave my favorite assignment to the kids. Plot a simple graph for any industry explaining the relationship between profitability and marketshare. It helps the kids understand a lot. I can then explain profitability, marketshare and the industry dynamics. Most would plot a linear and direct relationship between the two. That is intuitive. The answer is a V shape curve which shows that the top three tend to compete with decent profitability with the next few in the ditch with far lower profits. The rear is brought up by niche players who cater to a smaller but well targeted group with lower expenses and possibly premium pricing. All driving up profitability. As usual we split the class into groups and we got a number of answers. The kids had to go onto the board and draw the same. There were ten groups with different number of kids in each. I drew ten graphs. For some reason only nine went on stage. I thought I had made a counting error. When I then analyses the graphs I remembered the missing one. Two girls, very nondescript, had drawn one on their notebook, which I had seen while I was on my rounds while the groups were discussing. They had drawn the V. but they refused to come on stage and draw it with the other groups. I had missed calling out to them and they refused to stand up when I asked if anyone was left. As is my style I destroyed all graphs including the correct one. Then I proceed to explain the theory from scratch and voila… we had a V on the board. I congratulated the two girls and bowed down to them. No one I had taught till now had got it in the first try. When on my rounds I had quizzed them on it, their theory was not well defined but the thought process was clear and in place. Not wanting to show emotions I merely walked away. Possibly they thought they were wrong and I had just been disappointed. But I was simply very very happy and impressed.
But it required me to be on my rounds. If I had given them the assignment and gone to make a phone call and come back to see the presentations, I would possibly never seen them and their graph. I would have missed them. I would have thought that the usual suspects who ask questions in class are the ones who know it all. They are the bright sparks, but hidden there amongst them might be gems of thought. Just because a few know how to argue, how to articulate, how to make a case, how make a show of it; they are not necessarily the ones. Very difficult. They choose to be quiet but it is up to us to make them talk. We would have to give them voice. For long corporate have given enough focus to the natural leaders but have simply ignored the thinkers who might not necessarily speak up. Either we go person to person and peep into their note books or we continue to give them a chance and an environment to speak up, we will be the poorer. It was a big lesson for me and I did not know if it till I began writing this blog. Funny nah. That is the power or writing. If you have no one to talk to them at least write. You would otherwise never have known what you knew all along.

the joy of listening

On Sunday, I had a lecture to give at the college I teach. It being a rainy day I had left well in advance. We wouldn’t want the professor to be late on his first lecture do we? What message do we send out? Hence I ended up being an hour early. As a backup I taken a book along that I had an opportunity to read at the college. Sitting on the steps at the entrance it was good fun to read a book. I was well sheltered from the almond tree. The almond fruit had come close and it kept dropping from the tree, one every minute. At first I thought it was the crows or some other birds that kept eating and throwing them down, but on closer inspection I figured it was just the rain and wind pushing the ripe fruits. They were squashed exactly on the side they fell. It was quite nice, sitting at the college steps on a Sunday, reading a nice book, mild rains and the fruit dropping. The only thing wrong was the horrible ready mix tea that I was having. Sweet and completely off taste. Ready mix tea is the most horrible thing ever. No wonder at many meetings the guests ask if we can serve brewed tea as opposed to machine tea. Complete rubbish. I guess the companies don’t realize that they are turning generations off by giving them bad tea and they will probably never be able to savor the aroma of good tea, thereby helping them cultivate the taste. Short term thinking at its best.
I got talking to the security guard at the steps. The college I teach is the same one I went to and most support staff would know and recognize me. This guy though came in after my time. he knows me as the professor and not a student. He confirmed with me what he had heard... I was indeed from the college. Some other peon had told him so.
Over the years I have perfected the art of prodding and listening and challenging. Speaking to people about their job gives me immense pleasure. They are obviously best placed to talk the most and with authority on what they do every day for a living. Hearing their life, anecdotes, learnings, experiences enriches me immensely.
Pushing him a bit I learnt that on one of the floors there was a session happening for some Landmark. I had no clue. He was explaining some of the stuff he saw – different things happen there. Many people come there to improve their lives. They talk and try and ‘rehabilitate’ people. He said that one of the drivers had told him that his boss had completely changed after attending this session. He was a guy who would finish his work and then roam around till 3 am in bars and have a colorful night life. But the forum helped him change his ways and he now heads home post his work. Another thing was that during the three day seminar during lunch break, everybody would come out and would be making calls to their near and dear ones. They would be crying and apologizing and be completely emotional. No one would be in any mood to eat but will be supporting each other. Another instance was of a kid who had come with his dad. The kid after some time walked out and told his dad that he is not going to be any part of this forum. He was not going to talk about his issues in front of strangers. In a bid to convince him, another uncle asked him if he knew where he was heading next year? To which the kid responded saying he hasn’t seen the next year and no one has. Who knows what the circumstances will be. Stop planning or thinking. As in Hindi they say – kal kisne dekha hai? He wondered and I concurred, what would the caliber of the person addressing these seminars that he would have such a powerful effect on the people. I wonder… though I am not convinced that this is for me, it seems to be making some progress with a lot others. Probably I am too arrogant to accept or I probably have never seen the other side. It seems to be giving some people a lot of hope or direction.
We quickly moved on to another topic. He was explaining that kids don’t wear their i-cards to college. The i-cards are now giving out corporate style. They have a lanyard attached to them. He was also lamenting that there is no real way to verify the kids faces from the icards. Especially the girls. He said that if he had a closer look at the photos he risks a complaint being filed by the girls on harassment.
I wish the college simply heard all the constituents while designing different rules and regulations. The lanyard is an ugly looking thing. Anything that one wears, one is quite choosy. As it reflects one self expression. I don’t blame the kids for not wanting to wear that horrible plastic piece. The icard itself is ugly looking and the lanyard leaves no scope for self expression. The same problem is in office. People don’t wear the company giving icards. Once we had an external event and designed icards with different lanyards for the event. At some events we did nice two toned ones and at other we did different colors. We had a few left over and I was wearing a new color every day. Soon enough I had enough people asking me, accosting me at the aisles for one for them. Quickly I was down to one. Some of them were the ones who never wore any icard but were now flaunting theirs thanks to a new ‘different’ lanyard. Another killer app was that this lanyard had a clip on it. So you could wear it by clipping it like a necklace as opposed to putting it over your head, risking you spoiling your hair style. Simple innovation working for you.
Its surprising that we miss the obvious. We do all sorts of things and campaign to get people to wear the icard but problem lies elsewhere. Once we recognize that the icard if worn is as much a tool of self expression then we will change our mentality towards it. I bet that far beyond getting compliance, I can get enough students to pay a hundred bucks to pick from a lanyard of their style. Different colored ones, some with beads, some with badges or some thick, some thin. I also bet that most students will end up with more than one purchase in a year. Compliance will go up, coolness will happen. Hmmm. It’s an interesting project to take up.
I am so much in love with this idea, that one I even told the corporate CSR about it. They have a problem getting employees to sign on the Corporate Social Responsibility platform. They even have a problem with employees at blood donation drives. My recommendation was that every person who signed up or donated got this sexy new lanyard that was different from the rest. It not only gave instant gratification that showed him in a new light but also helped be a walking talking ambassador for you activities. The best way to spread good is the demonstration effect. Then later you could always add on badges that he could put on his lanyard for all the great stuff he contributes to the larger cause. But then… sigh… never mind. I will use this idea once… somewhere else. .. some other time.

I dont know how to title this one. any suggestions?

There are some days when the mind goes completely blank. You hit a writer’s block. Nothing you can thin of is worth writing. Right now the situation is specially so because of the work pressure. I just can’t find time enough o think or write or anything else. My poor google RSS feeds remain unread. It’s probably a bad thing.
I haven’t had the time to get my routine back into place. I sleep late, I wake up late, I bunk doing yoga, I bunk my swimming. The works… I hate it, messing up with my routine. The only solace that I can find is that at night I have a good book to read me to sleep. I am reading the autobiography of Malcolm X. So far it has been an interesting read. I am dying to comment on it but am withholding my two bit till I finish reading the book.
But yes the routine. i really like being in the routine. I love the yoga and the swimming. Jispa’s vacations are on and in that is the absence of a catalyst. So when I say with some pride that I swim regularly I must be quick to add that it is thanks to Jispa’s school that this is happening. But since I believe that this rigour is thanks to my dedication, I must be able to keep up with it while I don’t have an external stimulus.
Pride is a funny thing. The above para is nothing but an interpretation of my pride. My pride that I am fit, that I don’t have a pot belly, that I can do uncomfortable things and be happy about it. Right now the work is tough and demanding. I have been put ina situation where I have to set up the marketing for a firm that lost its marketing guy. So doing it all alone without anyone to assist me is a challenge in itself. That is creating new sets of motivation. I have always taken pride in telling people that ‘if you can’t do it, then I will’. I have that streak. Of late being the senior boss has ensured that I have always had some junior resources working in for me. This new project is making work as if I am the junior guy. AND I AM ENJOYING IT. It is give me a fresh sense of pride. Going home since two days at 8 – 9 pm, while sitting in the car, I think about the day gone by… and breathe with certain pride. I can still tell my kids with confidence that if you can’t do it then let me know. I will do it and close the issue. So screw you.
You can say it all the time but when you have recent experience to do it then it carries much more wiethg. Pride is a silly thing really. Some days I think it’s probably a wrong thing. Should I have this pride at all? Should I be a humble stone on the wayside? Why should it affect?
Difficult questions to which I guess the only answer I know of now is - moderation. Everything in moderation. Including moderation itself.
Wasn’t this a bit weird post. But then I think that what happens to most posts. They tend to reflect the mind. Right now the mental state is slightly convoluted. There are various emotions.
I think these two months my mind has been thinking a lot and has been forming opinions and thoughts. I think a few years hence I will look on this period with reasonable amount of significance. Hopefully for the better. I hope I don’t self destruct while clearing my mind. I hope I don’t harm my self and those around me. I hope I am able to chart out a path that ensures the best overall result. In this also lies a complexion. Should I do what is right for the long run or should I do for the short run. I know I have responsibility towards my decisions towards me but what about decisions that affect those around me? am I being right in setting fire on their path in the hope that they will face the heat and be better for it or should I just let their present be and take let the future take care of itself? What gives the great moral authority to play god with other people. And also do I fail if set them up for failure.
See I told you I was in a weird mood. But I have come to look at both sides of the equation a lot. Nothing seems to be swaying me strongly either way. I merely see both sides and be happy that I can see both the side of relative truth.
As I have always maintained as long it does not stop you from acting. It does not paralyse you its ok. But then what sarong with paralysis… arggghhhh stop that. Stop it. This post is getting too weird.

What was that poem that popped into my head ten seconds ago? Something like let tehfuture take care of itself, let the past bury its dead… or something like that. lets ask Google. A ha. There it is.
"Trust no future, however pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, - act in the living Present! Heart within and God overhead." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I guess that’s a good philosophy. Those lines right now seem reassuring. For reason they warm my heart. Hope they did something for you… but then again. SLAP. STOP.

jispa meets gandhi

We went to join the family gingbang in Ahmedabad to be a part of the surprise 25th year anniversary. The cousins there are fairly sweet. He is my first cousin and the 25th anniversary celebration would give you an idea onto the wide age disparity between cousins.
This was on my dad’s side of the family. Here I am the youngest son of the youngest brother. Hence I am the baby of that side. In many ways I am treated by some of my brothers in that respect. At 35 I get my ears pulled. Literally :D. It is quite a nice feeling. It was also a chance to experience Ahmedabad and used the free time before and after the party to catch up on stuff.
One point on our agenda was the Sabarmati ashram there. It is a beautifully serene and calm place. The vibes there were very calming. One can only imagine what it could have been like 60 to 70 years ago. I liked the smallish memorial that explains Gandhi’s stand on various issues and charts out some of his actions. Also I could not visualise without Richard Attenborough’s movie coming into my head. It did well to help me visualise the scale of his actions. Here is Jispa in front of one of the exhibits.

It is an icon by itself. I think the handwriting is an integral part of making this iconic.
While the section was informative on Gandhi’s life I think it misses a lot by being merely a poster exhibition. There is little else to make the place come alive. it seems there is a sound a light show in the vening but we did not inquire about too much as we had the party to attend in the evening. Also I guess Gandhi as a man had little to own and hence there would be very little to exhibit, at least as afar as personal artefacts go. There were replicas of many letters that he wrote and received and prints of the same, but I guess seeing the real thing beats having to see a replica. Jispa kept asking “is this the real thing’ and we had to keep saying it is the replica. I don’t what we humans have for it but I do enjoy seeing something very real as opposed to the pictures.
Like the Delhi museum showing what is believed to be the actual remains of the Buddha. On my god. I went crazy seeing them. I couldn’t believe that we have the actual fragments of the Budhha himself. It made the Buddha come alive to my mind. From being a part of mythology there is suddenly flesh and blood to my vision of him. And I was within 10 inches of them.

There in similar vein, I was also very happy that they had not completely cordoned off the hut (above pic) in which he stayed but actually had it open to all visitors to come in and experience it for himself. It felt great to be in a place where the man him self had been / lived. These things make the legend in our minds come alive. I was happy to take Jispa there. I guess it would have made it come alive for her as well.

The big let down was the souvenir store. Yup, they have a store there. It sells prints of old photos, wooden charkhas, all possible books and some pens and badges etc. there was nothing that could be a modern interpretation of Gandhi. Something that someone younger would actually buy to keep the image alive. Also nothing to wear. Not even a khadi kurta. The books were also arranged so shabbily and displayed with poor light and shelves. It made for poor browsing and poor experience. Next door was a library in even worse shape. With dusty interiors, bad lighting and cobwebs that too did not inspire any confidence. While some of the exhibits were smart and interesting enough to explain Gandhi, there was nothing to interpret him in today’s life. Hence no matter what any one says, lage raho munnbhai must be lauded for its attempt. A simple zone where Jispa would have access to movie clippings, possibly cartoons, drawings etc… that would have created a lasting impact in her mind. A simple concept like untouchability was something I found difficult to explain to her. It was written in depth on the exhibits and the complexities that Gandhi faced were also explained but explaining that to an 8 year old was pretty tough. What does it mean? How did he fight it? What were the repercussions? I think I tried my best. Years of talking to Jispa as an adult have borne fruit. She can understand complex stuff that I try and explain to her as plain as possible without talking down. She is also quite comfortable in a museum and knows how to entertain herself in it. But a little help, possibly at worst an audio tour would help tremendously. And why can’t we design audio tours for kids. Punch in your age as well before proceeding and you get the right thing for you. Why don’t we do this?
I tired my best on Saturday. I hope it brought it alive for her.
As a closing note I leave this for you – said of Gandhi by another legend himself.

STOP

I just don’t understand. We first believe that we must have art, then we create some kind of art and then we barricade all access to it and expect people to interact with it. Or is it rather; appreciate it but do not interact with it. This is a slightly old one. This is at the IMAX theatre at wadala. They had put this up on green day to spread a ‘green’ message. The tree is still around. I thought the tree was nice till it started obstructing me. Somehow the fact that I can’t do anything with it rankles me. They should get rid of the barricade around it and let people take photos with it. In fact some enterprising ones went under the barricade and got their friends to click the photos of themselves with it. They were doing it surreptitiously and keeping an eye out for the authorities. Wouldn’t the message be better served if they simply allowed all access? This is the same problem I see in al street sculptures or gardens or anything. We just put large cordons around everything and then hire a guard to keep people off the place. Today’s newspapers report that people are even keeping cameras to keep an eye on public places.

STOP IT. STOP THAT. DON’T GO THERE. YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE. YOU ARE A NUISANCE.

grow up

I don’t what it is like now but small boys in my time had pretty simple ambitions when they grew up. Some wanted to be fire engine drivers or train engine drivers and then they quickly grew up to want to be doctors, engineers, army men and the lot. Standard professions to want to be in. not to much to write home about. I was always a patriotic buff and wanted to be in the army. That was it for me. It lasted till I was 21 for me. I had even joined the NCC in college. The national cadet corps was the perfect stepping stone for my desired career. Though I was always the thin sickly kid in college and I never knew how someone like me would ever pass the tough admission tests. I guess that lasted till I got my MBA admissions and Jasmine’s desire. While I think she still does not like to believe it was her but I remember clearly the moment when I decided to go for the MBA. I guess it was better in the end. I might be too much of a non conformist to succeed in the armed forces. I might have been kicked right out. Or possibly never selected. You never know. My NCC was in the Air Force wing so I might have been flying one of these flying coffins as well. So I guess my immature patriotism probably never managed to convert itself into a profession.
This vacation I had a chance to remember my dream job. The taxis in the mountains were always a sure fire way to puke. In fact any vehicle in the mountains would result in puking bouts. As a kid I was always plagued by morning sickness. In the vacations we would drive in the morning only to find me puking my breakfast. As I grew older I managed to only puke on curving roads. And this was anytime during the day, not restricted to mornings. It was a gut wrenching experience. You first puke your food and the next time you still puke but as since there is nothing left in the stomach you puke air. It is a bad thing. I used to be miserable and I remember my dad telling me that there is no hope for you as an armed forces career if you can handle this. I was so pissed at him for this. That was no way to treat my dream. That was insensitive.
The last vacation, last year, in the mountains we had taken a vacation wherein we travelled by road but this around we had hired small cars like the wagon R, Alto and the van. Sitting in front in these petrol run cars with a low clearance seemed to have a positive effect. I managed without a single throw up. That was a revelation. I finally figured what happens. I need a small car (less movement) with a low ground clearance and it must be petrol. The diesel fumes also create huge issues as subsequent travels in a jeep result in near vomit situations. The issue is also that in the mountains the un burnt diesel from your car or even from a car travelling in front of you is enough to give me the reaction. This time in a much smarter move we took a smaller car (Indica) though it being diesel run, we opted for the air conditioned version. That substantially cut the heat, noise, dust and diesel fumes and it resulted in a puke free trip. I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t a simple thing like curvy roads that get my goose. It a complex combination of many factors. I could have made it in the Armed forces after all. Hehe.
But on inane ambitions like fire engine drivers; I saw this man outside my office window the other day. I guess this is a profession that I might find interesting. I have always found the guys who wash windows interesting. The fun of getting squeaky clean windows added to the thrill of getting to hang from the ledge and cleaning windows from the outside makes for a lovely profession. I am pretty enamoured by it.

comfort

Jispa can read anywhere everywhere and in every pose possible. Challenge you to read like this, for an extended period, and… mind it… and be quite comfortable about it.
Clicked at Delhi airport.


Also at Delhi airport – Jispa then found an easier way to be comfortable.

har har gange

We are just back from a trip to the holy mountains. The Himalayas. To get to the Garwhal part of eth Himalayas we pass though our favourite town, Rishikesh. We don’t stay at Rishikesh proper but we stay close to Laxman Jhulla. That is as far as you can get from the proper town, but in the heart of the tourist circuit.
When you are there do visit the lovely Devraj coffee corner aka German bakery and have pizzas, pancakes, lemon mint tea and almond triangles. I got enough of the latter for office for people to wonder what on earth it was. It is some sweet almond paste on a pie crust. It’s quite amazing and tastes quite divine in contrary to its humble earthy name. Go ahead when you are in that part of the world.
But that is metaphorically divine, what we got that is really divine is ‘ganga jal’. Water from the sacred river – Ganga (ganges). We took bottles and filled them with water from the river. We got for the lady who comes home in the evening to help with the household chores. We had got one bottle for her the last time we were there and this time Jasmine insisted on getting one more. I really did not see the point but went along.
Yesterday after we arrived our lady; her name is Devki, was happy to see the Ganga jal. I asked her why would she need one bottle of it and how does she plan to use it?
She said that in her hut/slum colony (jhopadpatti) people keep coming to ask for a little Ganga jal. She asks them for a glass of water in which she mixes one capful of Ganga jal. That’s it. Only one capful. And she never lets anyone else touch the bottle. It is a precious resource not to be squandered away. But what is used for? Oh… people come all the time to her for it. When someone is dying, they make the person drink it so that the passage is smooth. Or when she is feeling unwell she mixes it with a glass full of water, or for other occasions. But yes it is a prized resource.
I felt bad getting only a bottle full. If I had known I would have ditched the almond tarts and gotten another bottle full.
Devki told us thatshe was illiterate and that she uses ganga jal for everything as that is what she has been told is good. She can’t read and hence she listens to what she has been told. I told her that while we read a lot we still are at the mercy of what people tell us. We also don’t know for sure. We also plainly do what is told. To my mind – what works for you is medicine and what doesn’t is not. I had a tonsil issue that refused to go away in my teens. Till I took a long homeopathy course. It worked enough for me never to get it back again in all its fury. Probably it was that or probably there were external factors at work. No one knows for sure, do they? Read this article on homeopathy by one blogger I follow regularly. http://girishshahane.blogspot.com/2010/06/which-is-witch.html. All I say is that standing face to face with Devki I am not prepared to say that she is wrong and that I am right.
Now I know why Jasmine made me fill two more bottles. One friend of ours has two servants and last time Jasmine got only one bottle. It had resulted in a near fight situation. It’s a good thing I listen to Jasmine. She obviously knows best.

what paradox?

I keep using this phrase many times to explain how simple thinking can make a big impact. Many times my colleagues ask me for gyan or some books. And in the event that I need to recommend a simple book, I explain ‘this is really quite straight or simple or logical. My wife understands this.’
It sounds derogatory but it isn’t meant to be. Its equivalent of my grandmother can run faster than that. It is the equivalent of - my wife is a house wife and you guys are supposedly smarter and more exposed while working but you are unable to think clearly. My wife is able to think better and clear.
Jasmine is a clear thinker with an unmuddled mind. It’s surprising how she refuses to see the possibilities in the choice offered. Sometimes it can drive me up the wall as I tend to create tree structures in my mind while she simply sees it as one road. But I learn from her to keep things simple and straight.
One interesting piece was when I was explaining the book Logicomix (link) to someone. It’s a graphic novel that tackles a seemingly infinite and complex subject. My colleague asked me if it was really that simple. The inference being, that me a different being, can common people understand it. I said ‘my wife understood the Russell paradox thanks to the book.’ In such situations since my wife would share most of my life experiences she tends to be the comparison point if I am removed from the equation.
But the book is that lovely. It helped me understand to whatever level possible, some depths of math. And I loved the Russell Paradox. To prove the books superiority I sent the wiki paragraph about it to the colleague and said, my wife now understands this thanks to Logiocomix. Here is the para reproduced for your interest. If you believe (or don’t believe) that something as complex as this can (or cant) be explained in a simple manner - then please buy the book. I loved the book. And yes, Jasmine loved it as well.

“It might be assumed that, for any formal criterion, a set exists whose members are those objects (and only those objects) that satisfy the criterion; but this assumption is disproved by a set containing exactly the sets that are not members of themselves. If such a set qualifies as a member of itself, it would contradict its own definition as a set containing sets that are not members of themselves. On the other hand, if such a set is not a member of itself, it would qualify as a member of itself by the same definition. This contradiction is Russell's paradox.”

the gist is simple explained as - if it does... it doesnt and if it doesnt then it does.

genuinely sorry

As with parenting so with life:
End para of an interesting interview with the author Kathryn Schulz ;
“Finally, and even more problematically, jeering at admissions of error violates humanity’s most basic and broadly shared ethical precept – the one that calls on us to treat others as we ourselves would like to be treated. It’s comforting to imagine that only horrible people make horrible mistakes, but it is simply not true. Plenty of honest, thoughtful, intelligent and well-intentioned people have blundered into massive and costly mistakes. Maybe you are one of them. Or maybe, one day, you will be. Ask yourself: if that happened, would you stand up and say, “I was wrong”? And if so, in the fearsome moment that followed, what would you hope to hear?”
Nice one. Always difficult to implement. If saying sorry was difficult, being nice to a person who said so is even more so. Especially in a moment of strength.
Another excerpt:
“Witness, for instance, the difficulty with which even the well-mannered among us stifle the urge to say “I told you so.” The brilliance of this phrase (or its odiousness, depending on whether you are the one saying it or hearing it) derives from its admirably compact way of pointing out that 1) I was right; 2) you were wrong; and 3) I was right that you were wrong.”
Always difficult. I thought being less angry with Jispa when she says sorry should be enough. I guess it solves half the issue.
The other BIG issue I have is how much to get angry, if at all, if she owns up to something. Basically, what to do with situations in which if she hadn’t told us then we wouldn’t know? And after she did tell us, how much to scold or get angry or even act disappointed for something you might have not even known if not for her telling you. If you don’t show your disappointment then you end up sending the wrong signal that it is allowed, as long as you own up. It’s a balance that we seek to get right almost everyday. Of course the rule is always be less angry if someone owns up or says sorry. The trick also being that she must feel genuinely sorry and want to change and just merely apologise to get off the stick.
I think it’s the importance of Hansei in Kaizen. Here I have blogged about it in the past http://jaimit.blogspot.com/2009/08/make-cars-to-improve-life.html.
Again the difficult part of it being when is it actually deep introspection and when it is superficial.

lucky boy

This post comes as an interesting follow up to the last post. I have always believed that a good last performance is just that, a good last performance. There is no reason t0 believe that the streak will continue. You have to work hard and push for it at all times.

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/ulterior-motives/201006/when-will-streak-end
“Eugene Caruso, Adam Waytz, and Nicholas Epley looked at this issue in a 2010 paper in the journal Cognition. They find that you are most likely to assume that a streak will continue (the hot hand) when the cause of the streak is seen to be someone's intentions. You believe the basketball player will keep hitting shots, because he intends to make the shots.
When the streak is caused by some kind of mechanical device, then people believe the streak will end (the gambler's fallacy). The roulette wheel is a mechanical device that does not intend for the ball to land on either black or red numbers.”

While it is an interesting and erudite study, what set me thinking is the effect on our thinking given our tendency for anthropomorphism. That is giving inanimate objects human traits and mental characteristics. This seems to affect us more than what we think.

I guess all this while I assumed I was being clever while giving life to so many objects. We talk of many things as if they were living creatures. Like many Parsis will tell you that you must name your car if you want it to run smoothly. Of course here naming your car or your cricket bat will only ensure you feel more for it and that you will treat it a bit better. You might think a bit more before you run it over a ditch or you throw it around after you get out on a duck. These might actually nudge you into taing better care of your stuff and it will only come back to your advantage. But on the other hand, companies… sigh… giving companies (yes your job included) people like qualities misleads you into thinking that they are real. I have always told people don’t love your job, you might then expect it to love you back. A sure fire recipe for disaster. But I guess thinking of it as a person we might expect it to behave in a pattern and we might be blindsided to the randomness associated with an inanimate object.
As this author says at the end “At times, it may make sense to treat a company like a person. Companies have managers who make decisions and these decisions may properly be cast as intentions for the strategy that will be followed in the future. At other times, though, this language may get in the way. There is a tremendous amount of randomness in the stock market. When we talk about it in human terms, we gloss over all of that randomness.
In the end, we should try to be a bit more mindful about when we assume that streaks are the results of an agent's intentions.”

Small note: the other day Jasmine was telling Jispa not to sit on her raquet while playing badminton. I explained to her that you must treat your sports equipment with respect. They give you pleasure and you rely on it to play well. You must always treat it with kind affection and never mistreat it. I firmly believe that. There is discipline required in sports and taking care of your equipment is an essential ritual of this discipline. I guess we never had rich access to all sorts of hep equipment and the fact that you must take care of what you have is something has gotten ingrained in my system. Jispa is obviously mush better off but a discipline on the ground will go a long way for sure.

Over a period of time I have tried clearing my mind of all the illogical processes that might have crept inside. Removing it of all superstition. Be it praying for an occurrence or playing the bhajans (prayers) the first thing when I start the car. Slowly but surely I might dare say I am 98% cleared. Touch wood. God willing the rest 2% might go or they might stay to keep my sanity in face of unpredictability.

Yesterday we shifted to the second floor. I had to choose my seating from four seats. I hate this. I prefer someone making the choice for me. I don’t want to choose an unlucky seat. But this time I had the choice, which I did not really want. One lady told me to take a particular seat. You must face north or something like that. I was tempted to go with the choice. But it took some amount of resolve for me to think clearly. These guys had converted two cabins into four cubicles. They basically removed the doors of the cabins, left the glass wall on the one side (too expensive to remove) and added the extra desk. Thinking logically, I choose the brighter cabin, the bigger desk and the place which might allow me to put an extra chair for people who might be required to come and discuss stuff with me.
Here it is. Since the next person who is to share the space with me isn’t around yet (not yet hired) as of now I am getting used to a large space all to myself.
Here it is!