slice of life

This was at our hotel in Kaziranga, Assam. Here, this sect of Hindus pray to Vishnu/ Krishna but don’t have an idol. Their simple temples in the houses just have the ceremonial text from which they pray. It sounds like a nice bhajan. Very sweet nice and simple. This man comes in the evening and sings a lovely song.

Privileges come in many forms. Here the cabin guys (read me) gets a ‘whiter’ plate to have lunch than the rest. How brahaminical is our thought process? Segregation must be a genetic thing.

And this one – Jispa asked to be do something funny with the sauce this time around. Do you think I take her too seriously?

This is exactly why I like to teach in graduate colleges. One false step and you will also be similarly screwed.

confused love !

I was reading something about Aamir Khan on one blog and he was quoted as “I was researching Taare Zameen Par and this doctor told me something interesting about what parents should know about what children want. A) They need security. They have to feel secure all the time. B) Trust. You have to trust them and trust them honestly. If your child says he has not done something, then trust him. C) Dignity. You have to treat your child like a human being. D) Love. But without the other three, love is meaningless. When I heard this, the first thing that came to my mind is, ‘I need these four things, too. Not just children. I need to feel secure, I need to be trusted, I don’t like it when you insult me and I need a lot of love.’
Well believe it or not - He was talking about his love – hate relationship with journalists and how after hearing this he started his ‘love’ relationship with the media. I don’t know, possibly for a star this epiphany for the media makes perfect sense while it sounds pretentious to someone not in the media limelight like us normal folks.
So we can use this as an epiphany for those things that matter to us. Yes. He is right or rather the doctor who told him this stuff is right. In the end I too want to feel secure, trusted, live with dignity and love. And ya, the first three are easy and the fourth is notoriously difficult to understand and define.
We have been boxed in too much by this word love. I first fell in love when I was 15. Actually I think it was 13. I liked this chick in the classes I went to. I remember her name – Purvi, Purvi Gada. I think she was in this school called DPY at Matunga. I thought I was in love then as well. I was as deeply and madly in love with her as a 13 year old with outsized hormones would be. Only move out of it and call in infatuation. It’s funny how at the time your world revolves around something only to move on to another world. Till I met Jasmine... and then my world revolved around her, till we got Jispa. And now our world jointly revolves around Jispa.
So what on earth is love in any case? When I teach, a lot of youngsters claim to be in love or claim not to be in love with the person they are dating. It’s a bit confusing. That’s why over a period of time I have come to question the word and our notions of what it means. The question I have always had... can love expand to fit in more people? I thought not, till Jispa was born. My love expanded to fit in my entire family. Every year I take in 60 more kids I love and want to be with. In every class there will a few more kids that I will genuinely feel a lot more for. Every year the ‘heart’ expands to fill in more.
I don’t know if I am making too much sense. I not questioning the existence of love. I am merely questioning our definitions of it. What is it that we feel about it? Why are we so selfish about it? Why is it even ours? Can we conquer love like we attempt to conquer hate or sorrow? Why is love a pure feeling?
I can’t believe I am saying all this. I have always believed in spreading ‘love’ around. In office if you spread enough of it, the atmosphere must get better. Now I believe in that as well. So I am actually putting both sides of the coin and saying both are right? This is so dam confusing.
Ok – can I say – love makes us feel good but don’t go seeking it. You can find it everywhere if you do not box it, do not guard it, and do not hold it. Can you simply keep giving it all around and not expect any back. Can you feel love in the moment and forget about wanting it all for yourself. Can you breathe and say – I don’t love something or someone – but rather it’s a by product of what you or I may feel as a result of what we do. Then can we expand it enough to fill everything and everyone.
Possibly love is the reason for hate in this world. Possibly love is the reason for territorial wars, the notion of mine and yours. Suppose we just acted in good faith and acted upon the three things that Aamir says his doctor told him – just give people Security, Trust and Dignity. That’s all. Love becomes the by product. You don’t seek to love or to be loved in return. You behave. Everything comes from your behaviour.
But saala – what happens whenyou treat everyone with the same and you dont get it back. Then what happens to you. What happens when you are hurt by someone who does not reciprocate? Well. So dam difficult.
I guess that’s why I am having issues with the word love. You love something – you want it to love you back. We give anthropomorphic properties to inanimate objects. We start with teddy bears and dolls when are young and move on to cars, bikes and gadgets when we are older. We give them names, we feel for them as if they have feelings.
So in effect what I am saying is – we love them instead of behaving with them. Can rise above this petty thing called ‘love’ and let our actions speak for us rather than emotions? Then it matters not, if they love us in return. It matters not if they don’t bother about us, our feelings. Can we merely treat others with Trust Dignity and Security and hope for magic to happen. Not love – Magic. Something not ephemeral but lasting. Something.

A long story of a short weekend.

A brief history of Mughal history was preceded a few days back by Charles Darwin theory of natural selection. All these are explained in the car to Jispa while we are driving from one place to another. A car provides the perfect set up for these talks. There is nothing much to distract and nothing much to do but talk. Jispa provides all the fodder by asking all the really wild questions which typically leads one to another and on and on till I can keep explaining. Typically I think the destination comes before we can exhaust ourselves of explanations and questions. The love flows both ways, her love of asking is matched by my love of explaining. I think of it as a challenge and want o explain all that I know in a manner that she understands. But this doesn’t work with all kids as I found to my chagrin yesterday.
Yesterday was Jispa’s swim meet. Jispa swims well and takes part in the inter club competitions. While within the club and school she competes well, the inter club competition is fierce and she stands no chance. But Jasmine is firm that we must give our best and I get dragged into this, mumbling and grumbling about wasting a Saturday or Sunday. I almost relieved when she gets selected to compete only in a few categories and misses a berth in the relay. The relay is at the end and it means that we wait till the very end. Yes the relays are interesting but in Jispa’s category the relays have been largely one sided with a few clubs dominating. Whatever. So I got along enough material to read while waiting for her contests. One of them this time around was the GEO. In it was a lovely picture of a manatee who was surrounded by a school of fish eating the algae and the parasites off its back. I caught the first friend of Jispa I saw and I explained this amazing symbiosis to her. She seemed interested for a fleeting moment, asked a question, said huhhuh… and vanished. Poof. There goes my ‘I am a good teacher’ theory. So it takes two to tango. The receptor in this case is possibly more important than the transmitter. Ya. It takes time to get the attention and interest. It’s easy with Jispa, she is probably tuned into learning more and more at all times.
So yesterday we attempted to understand Mughal history with a bit of perspective. A perspective that wasn’t so one sided as the Mughals came in with their dogmas and converted the masses to one religion. It couldn’t have been so one sided as I thought history taught me. I wonder how we managed to get the history so biased that young kids grow up thinking of this big bad Muslim rulers coming and conquering and persecuting the poor Hindus. They don’t get the whole picture. My whole picture is also of the Hindu fold jamming their own believers through the highly segregated caste system. My sense, my guess is that that had equal to do with conversion as did the incentives (the jazia tax.) Did I get that tax name write? That tax shit was always taught very well to us in the history books. Also I tried to explain to her my concept that we weren’t really one India as the text books make us all to be. We were a bunch of a gazillion small states at war with each other, as different from each other. Probably I got it wrong but as I grew up I thought that the concept of India as one total entity was as old as time it self. There was always one great nation. Whenever any outsider fought us, he fought us one big India, Prthviraj or Puru were Great “india” kings who valiantly fought for independence from ‘foreign powers’. Hell even Tipu Sultan was a ‘freedom fighter’. Basically the theory is – if there is a Hindu Muslim war then the evil guy is normally a Muslim and if there is a British involved, then villain is the British. On another note I sometimes wonder if the Japanese had smashed through the British forces in the east, through Subhash Chandra Bose’s help, I doubt if they would have been benevolent rulers or even for that matter spoken about our freedom. But then that is one history that I want to read someday.
But we leave that argument till the day I get to read a little more of that chapter of history. The both sides of that chapter. Till then let’s talk a bit about the ridiculously bad movies we saw – teen they bhai. Really really bad one. Amongst the worst I have seen. With just about a couple of guffaws. Sad shit. Especially when they take some real fine talent and go about and waste it. The times of India gives it 2 and half stars. I wonder where the two came from. The only thing good about the movie was that we saw it at Regal theatre which meant that all three of us saw that movie at the price of a one multiplex ticket. Then it hurts far less. Also before the movie we ate some pav bhaji at the Shakari Bhandar restaurant before we saw the movie. And yes, it was the first time I ate – idli chilly fry. Wow. That is taking a south indian dish and dousing it with chinese sauces. It’s a wild dish and definitely worth trying. It messes with your mind with its blast of tastes in one spoonful. Mumbai street innovation at its shinning example.
To counter that post the really sad movie we sent to the ultimate opposite. The Souk restaurant at the Taj. Whoah! Before you think I hit the lottery… before the recession I worked ina wealth management outfit. Part of the job was travelling and when wealth managers aka private bankers travel they stay only at the Taj. So I managed to stay enough to get myself some Taj points. A grand total of four thousand five hundred points which I redeemed against vouchers which were expiring this month. So Jasmine and I decided to treat ourselves as a celebration of her birthday this Saturday. My belief is that when its free try out the wildest tuff you have ever eaten. We don’t particularly like Chinese food (except now the idli chilly dry), Punjabi and continental cease to excite and so we have the Mediterranean food. Turkish, Egpytain, Lebanese,you name it. We never did really experiment with it much except the falafel and hummus and pita bread. So we book ourselves a table and reach there. The location, at the top of the new Taj wing offers a lovely view of the gateway and was as exotic as it have got. So get there and look at all the Greek (greek=methaphor) on the menu and in full ishtyle, I simple hand it over to the attendant to order for us. A ha. Some lovely salad, falafels and something else. The we had some soup and then we had no space left for the main course. In the middle they gave us some free absolutely amazing mocktail of khus (poppy seeds). The one thing I figure with the Taj is the amazing ability to simply put just a little flavor in their food. It must linger not over power. We gujjus with take any flavor, mix it with any flavor and take the strongest flavor and make it even stronger. So our khus will taste strongly of khus, our food falafels will have strong Garlic and so on. No I realize how we butcher our food and how when I hit the kitchen I murder my own preparations. I always believed that it must be strong but I think now I realize how wrong I was. The desert we ordered was some divine chocolate bistilla. Ooohhh…. After our fill the Taj being Taj… suddenly sprang upon us a cake. Happy birthday to you…lallalalal…. I had mentioned at the time of booking that it’s my wife’s birthday and to hence please give us nice window facing seats. Ahhh… I could get used to the Taj. Till of course I see the bill. Four grand. Four thousand rupees for three starters, two soups and one desert. Whoops. Earth calling Mars, earth calling mars. The stuff is always tasty when you pay through free vouchers! No mistaking the fact that they are hard earned vouchers. Free but hard earned. I travelled a lot, missed my family, worked my butt, suffered lonely nights in the hotel room, fell sick all alone, watched boring TV, everything… and the consolation was this lovely night with my family. Well I still got five hundred bucks left to spend. Possibly take my family to the coffee shop and blow it then on coffee and biscotti. Nice evening. The consolation prize was pretty cool. What say jasmine? We were so enamored by it that we even thought, ‘THOUGHT’… only thought of doing it again at full price. I can only think of the various stuff I can buy for 4 grand. Two denims, or a pair of sunglasses, or two or four pairs of footwear, a bit of my EMI perhaps. Anything, but eat it! Aaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh. Middle class will always remain middle class. Once you get the joy of ‘cheap’ the luxury of ‘price’ ceases to excite you and I hope it remains like that for long. There you are – the long story of my short week end.
Hey one more thing – we saw the movie Rango today. Anything with Johnny Depp has to be weird. Well it started out slow but ended pretty fast and exciting. I liked the movie. An animation movie with Client Eastwood in a special appearance. It was cool. And yes I almost forgot; I got into my favorite fight with the security at the theatre. Jispa was having an apple. They wanted her to eat it before they let her in. SCREW YOU. I just told them, we are going in and we barged in, ‘stop me if you can’. Tum jo karna hai kar lo. You can’t stop my daughter from eating an apple. You have no power to stop me, touch me or do anything. So Jispa had her apple and ate it too. Well… to bend to wrong rules is a crime in itself. Jai ho Gandhi. The security is a bluff, they have no powers to arrest you or confiscate anything as innocent as an apple. I hate them and it’s high time we show them for what they are.. a bunch of bullies who have been given instructions by some corporate. Why can’t they allow a kid, eating an apple to walk in. they rather the kid have a cola inside, instead. Sure. Take that! You powerless bully… I refuse. I call your bluff.

BTW - the real picture of the lovely desert at the SOUK called the chocolate b'stilla

are you smarter than a third grader?

Can you beat an eight year old in English grammar? Let’s see you get them right. This test is only on collective nouns. What are collective nouns you ask? Tisk tisk. Let me give you a few examples and you get the rest – a fleet of ships, a class of children, a swarm of bees, and a flock of birds. There easy, isn’t it? Now let’s see you max this test from Jispa’s English grammar third grade book.

1. A ______ of puppies
2. An ______ of islands
3. A ______ of quails - bonus point question!
4. A ______ of musicians
5. A ______ of flowers
6. A ______ of eggs
7. A ______ of cats – bonus point question!
8. A ______ of trucks
9. A ______ of eagles –bonus point question!
10. A ______ of toads - bonus point question!
11. A ______ of kittens
12. A ______ of leopards- bonus point question!
13. A ______ of kangaroos
14. A ______ of crows - bonus point question!
15. A ______ of foxes - bonus point question!
16. A ______ of bears
17. A ______ of jelly fish –bonus point question!
18. A ______ of horses
19. A ______ of monkeys
20. A ______ of actors
21. A ______ of rabbits – SUPER bonus point question!
22. A ______ of nightingales - bonus point question!
23. A ______ of judges
24. A ______ of wolves

Go on rate your self. One mark for every right answer. Two marks for the bonus question and three marks for the SUPER bonus question.
The answers are:-

1. A litter of puppies
2. An archipelago of islands
3. A bevy of quails
4. A band of musicians
5. A bouquet of flowers
6. A clutch of eggs
7. A clowder of cats
8. A convoy of trucks
9. A convocation of eagles
10. A knot of toads
11. A kindle of kittens
12. A leap of leopards
13. A mob of kangaroos
14. A murder of crows
15. A skulk of foxes
16. A sloth of bears
17. A smack of jelly fish
18. A team of horses
19. A troop of monkeys
20. A troup/ company of actors
21. A warren of rabbits
22. A watch of nightingales
23. A panel of judges
24. A pack of wolves.

A score of less than 25 – go back to school, you dim wit lame loser. Between 25 and 30 – pay more attention in class knucklehead. More than 30 and less than 35 – you are fit to be a third grader. Full 35 – Great, now you are fit to take up Jispa’s basic home work. it doesnt pay much and the timings arent too great but the joy of receptive student - its worth all the trouble :)

Go ahead.. EXPLODE

Going with Jispa to the bus stop every day is just enough bonding time. Anymore and Jasmine will probably throw me out of the house. What problem does she have with my bonding? Well nothing really, it’s the problem she envisages Jispa having with my bonding. I get extra pleasure out of talking with Jispa and pushing her imagination. And Jispa likes to use and apply these concepts.
Like this time around we are high on Einstein. I was explaining to her how time moves slower in a moving vehicle. Well kind of explaining to her. To the best that I understand. She was getting all wired and confused but getting the point as well. Its fun teaching concepts that challenge her brain. The other recent favorite is that it is possible to see the past. All you have to do is move faster than light. But you can’t theoretically move faster than light but if you could, then you would be able to see the past. I explained this to her and she was quite awestruck by the fact. We even discussed this a few days later. That is the ultimate test. If she remembers it and she talks about it then I know the penny has dropped. Full on time pass. She has to take some facts to school on a periodic basis. What’s the point in taking lame facts? All kids read encyclopedias and watch the geographic channels so facts that astound them have to be smart and different. This time Jispa was asking me about taking a fact to school. I was fresh from a book about flight and I explained to her that the aero planes could only be invented after the invention of the petrol powered engines. Otherwise the other engines were too heavy to put on planes. Now that’s a fact that even her teacher wouldn’t have known. That’s a fact that does come as a factoid in a channel or a children’s magazine. It’s an unknown kind of factoid. I keep trying to dazzle her. It’s fun when you teach that run of the mill stuff is just that – run of the mill stuff. It’s not something she took and read from a cut out or something. She spoke it from her mind because she understood the concept. I am dying for her to take the see the past concept to school. This is what I call teaching a kid. Putting advanced concepts in a simple to understand way.
Throw open your mind. Absorb stuff from all around. Keep thinking, keep tinkering. Jispa and I have the ultimate fun when one question leads to another and another and then we wonder how we got where we got. Whoops. I love it when it really challenges me to explain what I know in a manner that an eight year old can understand. That is the true test of knowing. Like my professor used to say – what is marketing? How do you know you know marketing? Can you explain what it is to your mother? Can explain the marketing of the oil she is buying to your mother. Then it is marketing. Yes Professor Navalkar. I remember his golden words. What is the point of all the reading I might have done? I must be able to explain it to the kids in a language that they understand and in a language that they appreciate, learn and remember. The penny must drop and remain there.
The best compliment I thought I ever received when Jasmine today told me that Jispa was telling her “mom, how I remember stuff from long time ago. I remember when I was two or three years old and daddy was teaching me about day and night. He took me to the bathroom with a globe and a torch and in the darkness showed me night and day. I still remember it”. Wow that is cool. I barely remember it. It was around 5 to 6 years ago. Like all proud papas; I took that as a compliment to my teaching skills rather than her memory skills. Haha. In parenting you get a lot of brickbats, you have to learn to take a few positives and gloat on them when they come. I tell, that is a sure way of staying sane.
(the reason
Kids are the most fun. You have to explain to them, use similies, metaphors and really challenge yourself. And you know what, explaining this to others helps you learn it better. You understand it in a way that even you retain it. The surest way to learn something is to teach it to others. They challenge you, ask you and expect you to know it all. So you keep thinking, take some time out, think through, sometimes together and figure it out. That is the best way to learn. You keep drilling concepts into your mind as you drill them into other minds. In office too as I teach / talk about the various concepts, I get to learn them as well. I love it when my team challenges me on the concepts, pushes me, asks ridiculous, innocuous looking but highly dangerous questions that challenge my understanding of them. That pushes me to think much more. Yes teaching is a great thing.
Like one office kid asked me what I think is the thing that I want to do the most. Years of corporate disillusionment has taught me only to remove all notion of ambition. I have no great desire to be the CEO or something. Screw you establishment. But I think of something that I hold dear to my heart. Something that has possibly defined me and helped mould me. Teaching. I want to constantly teach. I want to be in a position where I can learn constantly, where I have to push myself to understand better and then teach people to understand better. I want to see minds open. I want to constantly open mine. The greatest gift of teaching to me is the simple act of a student opening his mind. My greatest pleasure does not come from the guys who come in first in class. It comes from the guy who come into class with a closed mind, least interested in studying and generally believing that this is all shit. When I see him contribute, when I she her raising her hand, challenging me and then when I say, right, good thought, great observation, and then them believing in what is being taught. That is the greatest gift that I can get. An opening of a window in their mind.
After knowing a bit I know only one thing, that I know too little. The joy in knowing more is unimaginable. The joy in teaching that there is a vast unexplored world out there is crazy. One of the reasons why we named Jispa after a slightly inaccessible mountain village is just that. Her name must conjure in her head a sense of exploration. Something that she must seek out. Something that she could aspire to conquer, reach and feel. Something that is high, away and pure. Go on Jispa. Go on… explore. EXPOLDE.




PS: the reason Jasmine worries about all this is because Jispa likes showing her mind off and she worrys that she will show off to her teacher in school and we don’t know how they all react to oversmart students. Yup. We are scarred by our own experiences. But I purposely push her and want to show her that a teacher, any teacher, never knows all. She is only explaining what she knows and that does not make me/her/ she/ him the ultimate know all. Go ahead.. . burst a few myths along the way. Go ahead. EXPLODE

another random post

I have hated 3D movies and the really ikky caramel popcorn finger print goggles that they give out. So this time too I resisted going for the movie. But the plan was made with my sister’s family and so we went. The goggles were as ikky as ever, but I took them to the wash room and gave them a bath! These were different high tech goggles. I think they do some syncro with the screen and give you a better clear resolution. And wow, no headaches. If these are the ones that are the norm then 3D wont be a bad technology after all. But I feel like the old guy who still somehow would have preferred the good old 2D with bright colors and superb resolution.
Talking about getting old. I am super serious thinking about stopping playing cricket. Yesterday I struggled with the bat. I was completely pathetic. I think the team lost a bit of momentum with me batting and possibly I was the one responsible for losing the match. I can’t believe that I will last any more cricket seasons. How long can I be in the team thanks to seniority? I only belong as a captain holding the team together. But the pressure of bad performance has just meant that I take my fielding even more seriously. So I kept diving and almost pulled off a stunning catch. Key word here- almost. I guess I will have to go to the matches this season and drop myself if I get a good 11 players. I can only justify my presence on close-in fielding. I might be old and my batting sucks but the joy on jumping around on the field is great. It comes with a side effect. I have scrapes on both my knees and left elbow. My pointer finger has a blue line running through it. Years ago I wouldn’t have been able to even get a finger on that ball but yesterday I somehow managed to dive and stop it from running to the boundary. That is my greatest motivation to play. But also right now, my back is sore, my calves are sore, mythigh is sore and neck is sore. I hope it’s the running I did while batting rather than the diving that causing it. Cause if it’s the diving that causing it, I have no more cricket to play :). There comes a time when you have to listen to your body when it tells you something. My body always was creaking and it was telling me lots of things. Now it’s shouting and I am pulling on. Pulling on purely on mental strength, which is right now telling me to listen to the body. Listen.
35. Wow. It’s been a rapid downhill after this age. What a funny life. Till you are 35 I did not have enough money to enjoy what I could have and after 35, you have the money and possibly some time but not the biological support to enjoy what you really want to. But hell there will be other stuff that I wanted to do and which does not require a powerful structure but merely an able one. Like this time when we were in kaziranga. We went for a trek inside the woods, in the buffer zone and we really had fun. I was so happy that I now understand the body enough to understand a bit of nutrition and my body could take some of the rigors of trekking and climbing hills. I wasn’t so tired and I could walk and trek without being out of breath. Possibly these are the goals I need to keep. Smaller achievable goals.
Today I write this post from the gymkhana where I see my daughter taking squash coaching. I am so happy that we are able to give these joys. The fun of physical labor and game. Its worth every moment and penny spent. Now all I want to do is to reach a point where she and I will compete. She is improving fast and I am losing fast. The equilibrium will not take too long. In swimming it has already reached. I am waiting till it reaches in trekking, walking, running, playing etc. the other big one I am waiting for is board games. When she will compete skillfully and we can play strategy games on an even scale. I think that’s three to four years away. I am waiting eagerly. I only hope that she will have the time and the inclination along with the ability. Otherwise….. sigh…
On the movie – Rio. It’s a nice movie with a very fast paced story line with forgettable songs and interesting characters. Sometimes I think the Animated movies are so strongly racist. With always the hero having ethnic black or latino side kicks playing to the archetype. If Enid Blyton was ticked for having black golliwogs, why are these features being spared the lashing. Sure these characters add to the drama and color and become memorable but they so much reinforce our stereotypes. Sitting many miles away in India, I would be completely ingrained with the same typecast that an American would have. In fact over a period of time my typecast will be strong and when I possibly interact with these guys, I would clouded by the typecasts that we see in the movies.
You know I think that why we Indian males seem to treat foreign women with a bit of disrespect. Our belief of the white female is loose, ready to sleep with you only by having one action scene together and some close eye contact. I think our junta believes that white female to be fast sexy, turned on by strong muscular bodies and given to smooching with multiple men. So all the stares they get in India must be thanks to the Hollywood movies. And to add fuel to fire, I think most the men at the lowest strata must be exposed only to B and C grade action thrillers or the porno movies which are the ultimate guidebook for objectifying of women. It’s a wonder how some foreigners manage India and love it and get their way around without bothering about the attention. As a man I have always been inside the ring when I see other men being open about their true feelings. I too have sometimes been guilty of staring a second too long when a pretty thing crosses my path. But I promise you it has been only one second too many. Whereas I have seen good men turn crude in the company of other men when discussing women on the road. I feel lucky to have a semblance of decorum. I think I wrote of this earlier. With digital cameras with powerful zooms, will all turn to peeping toms.
Coming back to Hollywood being the culprit… these men, I tell you behave differently towards Indian women whom they treat with a little more, just a little more respect. This is simplifying things too much blaming the media for our dirty minds, but I think given that we are culturally more respectful towards guests, its wonder how we treat our female guests with such disrespect. It must have some root here.
You what other stuff I see. The foreigner is getting back a small part of his own dose. He would come into India and be trigger happy shooting Indian men and women in all their finery. Some of them would not even bother asking for permission and some would pose with them. Now increasingly I see the Indians, rural Indians, looking at the tourist and clicking photographs on their cell phones with them. They go up to these tourists and request for photos with them. I have seen this is north, south, west and east India. The more rural the setting, the greater is the possibility of seeing this. The women and the men together view these white tourists as an object of interest. So the prey has turned on the predator. I love it when this happens. The cell phone with its camera has democratized curiosity. He haw!

hang there... i got it.. i got it...

If you did not read the earlier blog, i guess this blog will not be much of a read either... but well.. here goes. It’s funny that when I am down and searching for answers everything seems to leap in front of me and throw me lessons. While searching for something else I found the wisdom of Oogway from Kung Fu Panda and while on my reader feeds, I found the lessons from Greece, thanks to Devdutt. A crisis is a dam good opportunity to waste and similarly so is a mental mess up. Here are the two pieces of wisdom I just came across and gave me some light. I see answers to the dilemma from my earlier post. This is the one from Devdutt – “In Greek metaphysics, there are two principles. One is called the Thanatos principle and the other is called the Eros principle. Thanatos means the death-principle while Eros means the life-principle. We are governed by death-principle or the life-principle. When we believe that the next flyover is going to make life only worse (by destroying heritage buildings, by destroying mangrove forests, by destroying familiar slums) then we are stricken by Thanatos. We believing that doom is near. However, when we believe that the next flyover is going to make life better then we are under the influence of Eros. We believe that life is getting better. Who speaks the truth? Is it Eros or is it Thanatos? Thanatos is the grim reaper. He kills and destroys every day. So if we look at him, we are convinced that the world is coming to an end. Eros is the cherubic archer, striking people with love, desire and inspiration. He is constantly turning us one, giving us hope. If we look at him, life is always getting better. Thanatos is looking at life as half empty while Eros is looking at life half full. Thanatos always frowns. Eros always grins. Are we frowners or smilers? Greeks believed there was only one life. And so life was seen as either Tragedy or Comedy. Thanatos sponsored Tragedy, Eros sponsored Comedy. Tragedy was about looking at the flyovers and feeling helpless that we have no say in the matter. Comedy is looking at the flyovers and realizing with delight how foolish man is to believe this will really change anything. Thanatos makes us the victim. Eros makes us the hero. Since Indians believed in rebirth, they modified the Greek ideas a bit. Indian thought says two things. Firstly, Thanatos and Eros are points of view and not reality. Every human being will look at the same situation differently. Secondly, all things are temporary and so we will move cyclically from Thanatos to Eros, from being victim to hero, and then back again. It will happen again and again and there is no stopping it. Scams will come and go, corrupt politicians will come and go, idealists will come and go, and life will move on. Thus Thanatos and Eros are delusions, maya, delusions we cannot live without.” And here is the stuff from Oogway Oogway: My friend, the panda will never fulfill his destiny, nor you yours until you let go of the illusion of control. Shifu: Illusion? Oogway: Yes. [points at peach tree] Oogway: Look at this tree, Shifu: I cannot make it blossom when it suits me nor make it bear fruit before its time. Shifu: But there are things we *can* control: I can control when the fruit will fall, I can control where to plant the seed: that is no illusion, Master! Oogway: Ah, yes. But no matter what you do, that seed will grow to be a peach tree. You may wish for an apple or an orange, but you will get a peach. Shifu: But a peach cannot defeat Tai Lung! Oogway: Maybe it can, if you are willing to guide, to nurture it, to believe in it. Shifu: But how? How? I need your help, master. Oogway: No, you just need to believe. Promise me, Shifu, promise me you will believe. I BELIEVE!

dont read this. i wrote it but i too did not read it afterwards. i dont i ever will.

Sometimes I get too tired. Mentally and that affects me physically. In fact I have been trying to understand my true purpose. What is it that I am supposed to do here? Am I supposed to do what the company wants me to or do what I think the company desperately needs? The thing with this is that I know that I can do much more than what the company wants or expects me to do. Performing to expectations is difficult because the expectations are so dam low. So how does one motivate oneself to come to office and deliver on low expectations? I am sure I don’t want to deliver on these low expectations. I have to do better. My benchmarks are something I create on my own. Now this brings me to the interesting conundrum. How do I get up in the morning and push my self. What is my reason to live? What is it that makes me get up everyday, face all the pressure and push myself?
I thought I found a new ‘ikigai’. People. My people. I was always in love with my team. In fact many years ago I struck upon a mental formula. No matter how irritating the person or no matter how much the person and I are not likely to get along, always say to yourself – no, I must make this work. That is the only way to work. Sometimes great luck comes your way and you are blessed with a great team and sometimes you are not. And I can’t even take credit for great teams because I have in the past handpicked outstanding people and complete misfits. So I have no statistical evidence to prove my superior people picking skills. I might believe to have it but the truth is that I don’t know. Possibly what I can say is that the people that I tend to pick in the team are slightly better than average and definitely more aggressive than most. I tend to abhor meek employees at interviews.
So now I come in to office trying to mould this team, trying to create careers and mindsets for this team. Trying to push this team into doing better. That is something that drives me. The problem with the approach I have is that it seems to be arrogant. Who on earth am I to play God with this team. Why should I be the deliverance? What makes me qualified to do so? Is it in their interest that I do so? And do they even want it or ask for it?
To which I think possibly not. Possibly they don’t want it. Possibly they don’t ask for it. Possibly they even hate me for it. They probably don’t believe in it and possibly think of my attitude as condescending or overbearing. So while it works with some it completely becomes a cropper with others. I understand this and I don’t even have a great issue with this. What I do recognise is that I must not let this show up as arrogance. Come I have come to teach you. Sometimes I am sure I would be guilty of throwing this arrogance around, but I also realise that I must change. It must begin with deep introspection. The bigger thing is not the pain associated with dealing with criticism. That is still ok to handle. I have been made a villain many a times in the past and probably rightly so. The biggest challenge is the energy that something like this takes up, or should I suck up.
When you talk to someone and try and bring about change it not possible at this moment for me to take a disconnected stand. I am outside and helping you. How must I be away from it all and yet feel deeply. Every time I try and help someone move along, push them and urge them, I end up losing a bit of me. As if I have left a bit of me in every person in my team. That is where the trouble starts. Now by leaving a bit of me everywhere I am in effect tying my emotions to them. I am open to them. I am vulnerable to them and their growths, feelings, disappointments and such. How much emotion can I have?
That causes more stress than anything else. How do I love without attachment? How do I care with bothering about being cared in return? How do I speak the truth without worry that my words could be misconstrued? These are tough questions that I have no answers to. Jaininsm is interesting in a way that it says that at the highest level, the monk must not be bothered about teaching. He must live his life as he seems right and must not even have the desire to preach. He merely lives and his life serves as an example to those around, inspiring by mere presence and not by intending to inspire. Hmmm.
Wow. Can that be possible? Can one love so much so as to conquer love itself? Can one have so much faith in oneself? What about mere mortals like us? Can we achieve bits of this? Possibly yes. Can I simply state an axiom from time to time and let people drive their own meaning. Should I talk less when I teach? Should I leave people to find their own meaning in words that I found deep meaning in?
Its possible, isn’t it? When I teach Jispa science of mathematics I have a desire to be precise in my teaching and in her learning, but when we talk about other stuff, about behaviour or attitude; I let her get it herself. I talk much less and let a lot of things hang. Possibly I do that because she is still to young. But possibly there is a lesson in there somewhere. Must I merely state and leave things to interpretation. The biggest lessons one learns when understands the meaning of words oneself, through ones own discovery.
My gurus have been teaching much after I left their shadows. I have learnt by their absence much more than by their presence. In fact slowly slowly their truth has dawned upon me. By experience and by the wisdom that their words come back to haunt. They ring hard in my ears.
My yoga has suffered by my thoughts. I end up clearing my mind through the time I spend doing yoga. But that is not the ideal yoga. Yoga is being able to keep it all at bay. My yoga is my active period. Its when I can see clearly and think straight. But I know that the mind free of thought is most clear. I promise to try and not think. I should be clean of thought and of office and of life.
I think I have this desire to be understood and understand. Possibly I am asking too much. interestingly, right now I am reading the book The Moral Animal. This tries to explain our behaviour using Darwin’s natural selection. Hopefully I would be better placed to understand myself. Hopefully I might get a better explanation of what I desire, think and act. Why we do such things. Why we humans are so queer. Hopefully that would bring me to some senses. Hopefully it would put my mind at ease.
This blog has been quite strongly introspective. And I have been noxiously short of mental energy right now. The day is starting and a lot is left to be done. Hopefully I would be able to channel my energy right. Hope fully I would be able to make some difference to my life starting today.
How many times I have used ‘hopefully’ and ‘possibly’ on this blog? I know I use that often. And the reason I do so is because I don’t know the truth. And the density of these words reflect my mental state. But you know what – one of the traits of mine that I truly thank god for having – resilience. I know whatever I get I will be back. No matter how bad it looks, I will bounce. BOUNCE BOUNCE. That is good. Yes. The ability of a crazy ball to bounce back. To use the spin every time to spin like crazy and in opposite directions. The more you spin it the crazier it moves around. I love that analogy. I am a crazy ball. I will be back.
I started this blog with a slight hunch in my shoulders and a certain loss of energy and I am ending it with some verve in my breath. The crazy ball is back. Wow. Let’s see what I do today? Thank you blog. It great to write this stuff. I don’t even care who reads it. I don’t most would. It’s too long and too emotional. I don’t think Jispa might also read it too much. I don’t anybody but I would get any lessons from it. But the fact that I am writing is helping me clear my own thoughts, my own actions.
Let’s see if I can run through my new found enlightenment without running afoul of too many people.

winning matters?

It’s a difficult thing to sit inside a secluded cabin and work. I think there are more distractions inside a cabin than outside. So today I decided to finish a lot of my pending work. Not that it would not have been possible inside. But a change in settings helps the mental make up. the cabin is good for meetings but is practically useless to get any work done. Too many distractions. And the worst part of it all is that I don’t get the mental frame to write my blog. BAH!
To continue from last time’s entry, Jispa and her swim team got called into the head of department’s office on Friday. They were given the news that they needed to turn in their silver and they would get a GOLD instead. Some back room discussions seem to have prevailed. Interesting. Well talk about having your cake and eating it too. She got the lesson for by winning silver yet she got her Gold! There also everyone in her team was congratulating her for the amazing performance. Aint a proud dad?
To top the weekend was the amazing world cup match played on Saturday. I always felt that India would never ever again lift the world cup and definitely not in my lifetime. I remember the t20 world cup and I was in London at the time. I had this meeting scheduled when India was playing its bolwing their last ten overs. I was in my London office and we were trying to watch the match streaming on a website. Obviously the bandwidth got choked as India was close to winning. I told my head of ops at the time. Boss, I don’t think India will ever win a world cup in my lifetime. I was too small when we won in ’83. And I don’t remember it at all. I wasn’t going to miss this one. I told him lets go to the pub across and watch it dude. He did not require too much egging on. Pronto I witnesses history and I thought that image will remain with me for the rest of my life. Till... Saturday. Oh god! We won the world cup. WE WON THE WORLDCUP. We were screaming and dancing and jumping in joy. We went to eth streets to see Mumbai celebrate on the streets. Everyone was friends with each other. People ‘hi fiving’ each other. I just wanted to be a part of the celebrations.
So I stood on the circle, near the edge with the Indian flag and just screamed at all the guys who passed by on their bikes and cars. They screamed back and I raised my hand. They instinctively reacted and slapped my hand on their way. A small gesture brought me closer to the whole of Mumbai. Actually whole of India. It’s funny how we all on the street were suddenly feeling like one. Its a great feeling. A victory such as thus can somehow unite everybody.
Hmm... It seems like an interesting lesson in management. It is so important to be united and what better way to feel united than to celebrate victories. I think my matter of fact approach to life probably costs me dear. I am happy to quietly celebrate and walk around but I think it’s important that we celebrate together. One can’t be a lone twerp all the time. I think there are two things that get a team together – one is a common adversity typically in the form of an enemy and the other a victory. While we all close ranks on a adversity its becomes critical to close ranks and feel the victory.
Simple lesson learnt. Not that it was not there in my mind but sometimes an incident helps in imbibing it. It becomes a story, a vivid example that connects. Hopefully this will keep the example in my mind and help in me being a slightly more happier person. Hopefully.

we went on the streets with Jispa in tow. hopefully she will remember the big party when India won!

how you played your game...

Yesterdays was Jispa’s swim meet at her school. Since she could take part in only three events she chose to skip the butterfly and opt for the breast stroke in addition to freestyle and back stroke. This year she is in the third standard and she is at a disadvantage as the thirds compete with the fourths to take the medals. To add pressure some of the kids in the fourth standard are inter school gold medallists. So this year we aren’t really expecting much to happen for her in terms of medals.
The format here is all time trials. Which in effect means that everybody gets one swim and the best timings are taken to decide the medal table. In her free style time trail she swam pretty neat and fast to win her trial but she managed a credible finish overall but missed the podium. In the backstroke there was no competition and she managed to crack the gold. And on her breast stroke – she is absolutely pathetic and came in last. Somehow she has managed to do well in back stroke but completely bounce out of the breaststroke. Today she and I were joking on how really bad her breast stroke works. It’s nice to see her admit and laugh on her own rubbish strokes.
The swim meets are normally very boring and I take almost no interest in them. The races are nothing exciting and I too have had a policy of being dead pan in seeing them. No show of emotions. Also competing in a school which has only two divisions and 30 kids in it is not a real test of speed. So its largely a non event. But last year I saw something I thought was amiss. Jispa swam well but seemed to run out of steam. She inexplicably slowed down half way through her races. Something was wrong. Yes. Her nutrition. She had some idlis which is nothing but steamed fermented rice flour cakes. That can’t be the food of a sports person. I have been trying to toy with nutrition and me with my limited readings and my empirical tests on the cricket field. Something was surely wrong with her food. So this time, in the morning I ensured she had a diet that seemed to work for me. A healthy dose of breakfast cereal. So it’s basically wheat flakes, corn flakes, shredded wheat, a few chocos and strawberries with a little milk. Jispa doesn’t digest milk too well and so next time Jasmine and me will experiment with soy milk and figure if that works for her. then we packed her snack box with a paneer, sandwiches, cheese, nuts, a healthy ladoo that has wheat, chocolates and bananas. So she would have a good mix of high release and slow release sugars. I know I am not a nutritionist but at least she got a better meal than most of her other friends. More suited to physical exertion. This what has worked for me and I suspected it worked for her.
So my contribution was that nutrition and I kept telling only one thing – I don’t care if you win or lose but reach out, cup your hands and listen to your biceps. That’s all I want you to do. That’s all.
The swim meets are boring till you get to the final act. The relay. Jispa’s exploits ensured she was the anchor of her tiger house relay team with kids from each standard taking part. As the race progressed the tiger house was in the second place with the third and fourth place being far behind. It was pretty ok till the penultimate person jumping in. The relay is one place where I find my emotions going haywire. You end up cheering like crazy and you never know who the hell will some through next. The last swimmer for the first place team jumped in and I started counting the seconds before Jispa would get a chance to jump in. 1,2,3,4... I remember counting till ten. Jispa had a ten second disadvantage. Oh shit no chance. Later in the video that Jasmine shot, it was more like 6 seconds, but I guess time was flying at a different pace at the meet.
I asked Jispa what was going on through her mind when she was about to swim. She said that all she was thinking was that ‘reach out, cup your hands and listen to your biceps and catch up with the other girl. That was all on my mind. I told myself that, I must catch up’. She finally got her tag to jump in. she also said that she thought she had a great dive. Her coach had taught her to dive with her head looking down and behind, as far behind as she could see. She followed it and she thought she did well.
So a 6 to 8 second lead is almost half the length of the pool. Fat chance. Suddenly as Jispa began furiously swimming, the lead was getting short. It’s hardly a 20 – 25 second dash. Oh god, Jispa is actually catching up. She still has steam in her strokes. Her legs are kicking furiously. Somewhere near the three fourths, she had caught up. Somehow the lead swimmer seemed to have lost some kick in her swim. Jispa was just too fast. The last few meters and both are neck to neck. I am screaming, the whole meet is screaming, Jasmine is screaming, Go, GO,GO,GO,GO... yes... and the final touch. AAAAAAA. I jump in joy. It was a photo finish. Too close to call, but almost everyone at the meet was sure. Jispa had done it for the Tiger house. They finished first according to everyone there. When the judge’s decision came in..... the judges use stop watches for every lane and everyone presses their stop watch individually. So in these photo finishes, one judge who clicks a micro second late can account for second place. The verdict came in and Jispa’s team was awarded the second place. I wasn’t going to fight with the judges. There were a few protests but the decision was final.
Today morning I got to chat up with Jispa. So Jispa, you swam like crazy yesterday. Yup. “so Jispa, everyone told you you swam well” “yaa. Everyone was telling me that. When I came out of the pool I was surrounded by everyone. Everyone was telling me well done. In the bus also everyone was congratulating me” “yes Jispa, but did you win or lose?” “huh” “did you win or did you lose? Did you get Gold or Silver?” “Silver” she replied. “do you remember the athletes prayer?” “what prayer?”. “when a great scorer come to write against your name..” she completed it with a smile “he writes not whether you won or lost, but how you played your game”. She had the smile of a champion who just realised the meaning in poetry. She understood. She came second. But no one cared about that. All people cared about was, how she fought. How she swam. How she refused to quit even if was well and truly behind. She was surrounded. All around were congratulating her, not because she won, but on how she played her game.

The actual little quote by Gartland Rice goes thus:-
"For when the One Great Scorer comes
To write against your name,
He marks - not that you won or lost -
But how you played the Game."
(from the poem "Alumnus Football")


No matter how many stories I can tell her, no matter how much I can preach, the experience will teach her the value of certain words, certain phrases, certain mottos. To lose Gold was to win the ultimate knowledge. She wouldn’t have realised the importance of these lines if she had won gold. It struck her the moment she completed the prayer. Her smile and radiant smile said it all. Its how you play the game. Jasmine and I were the proudest parents on that day. It’s a good thing I was wearing glares. I was crying, I was choking, I couldn’t talk. A come from behind fight back. An attitude that doesn’t die. If anything we could have taught her, was this. It’s how you play your game. I am still all emotional when I type this. What a game.



there she is, extreme right with the faded red swimsuit and blue cap. I will treasure this podium finish forever.

performance matters?

Sitting in my office the best thing is that the TV is here. My entire team is here sitting and watching the match. The match in question is the world cup semi final between India and Pakistan. I know as of now anyone reading the blog would wonder what’s the point of the stating the obvious but just to remind you , I write this blog so that it is possibly read 20 years hence. So this is the most important match of the last four and the next four years and obviously that would do a great deal of damage for the productivity of the day. I can imagine the frustration of the top bosses. We are a brokerage house that is largely a daily turnover game. One day less of trading and that would mean consequently one day less brokerage, and if we assume around 200 days of trading, we are looking at 0.5% less for the year. But what to do. As Rajesh, my one time boss/ mentor said, ‘I am very clear. Love for country over love for company’. Haha. It is difficult to concentrate and has been so during the day. The match has been on everyone’s mind. To concentrate a change was warranted and I sat in one of the empty cubicles of my office, along with my team. Now I wonder why I don’t do that more often. The cubes have so much more buzz, somehow there is the energy that gets work done. The cabin has been very silent and boring otherwise. I think I must go off more often and sit there. It’s definitely much more fun. All these years ... you pine for one and then once you get one, you get pleasure in sitting where you would have if you were a trainee. This is the story of life, I guess. So here we are watching the first half of the match. The TVs in the lobby still play CNBC but my TV is firmly on cricket. So what we lose on productivity we gain dramatically on team work. No matter what, sitting and watching a crunch match together does get all the adrenaline flowing. And when we get them all flowing all together, teams get built. You get enough joys and sorrow to share with all. So I guess it’s an even steven, you might gain more in bonding than what you lose in productivity. But thats a difficult to take. The higher you go the tougher the call gets.. well.. But then let’s talk about something different all together. This Sunday I raced Jispa in a swimming competition. First on was a 25 meter dash. I beat her by possibly 1/3 rd of a second. I had to push myself, cup and stretch my hand, and flap my legs like crazy. Then we got a 50 meter dash done. Here too I had to push myself like crazy and the result was a tie according to Jasmine. Wow. I couldn’t beat my own 8 year old. I thought that was really really fast. I might not be superbly fast but I know my crazy sprint will be fast. And I was out of breath for some time afterwards. Surely a 75 meter race I would have ... poof... I would have overheated and magically disappeared. I have said it many times in the past and I say it again. Nothing beats getting a good coach to teach you a sport... any sport, early enough in your life. There will one game that will give you a perspective on an alternative life, an alternate discipline. I am so happy that Jasmine and me have managed to give her this. This is an education that will hold her in good stead. Well done Jispa and thanks jasmine. Jasmine takes a whole lot of credit. Sometimes I wonder she suddenly grows a pair of horns and gets all aggressive, telling Jispa to do well, push harder. And I am looking at her and trying to calm her down. Relax. Its ok. hehe.

shut up and stop complaining

The contrast could not have been starker. From the wild jungles to a gilded cage. Last week I was on a trip to the north east. I have always wanted to someday got o Kaziranga. The last refuge of the one horned rhino. It has been a desire since I was a young boy. Assam always had this mystical aura around it. Heavy rains, tribals, long really long grass; so long they call it elephant grass. And of course the mighty grass chomping rhino. My wish was fulfilled and I hope Jispa was also richer for the experience. We went to two places. Nameri and Kaziranga, both quite nice and pretty and so far – almost unspoilt.
Here’s the Nameri tent!


The Bharatpur trip that we as a family made a few years ago was the turning point in our lives. That exposed us to the scores of birds around us and we began to take an extraordinary interest in the birds around us. Suddenly then a national park comes to life. If you are normally in the hunt for mammals then you tend to get disappointed at these parks. You can go from one point to another rushing and driving just in a bid to see the elusive tiger or bear or another wild mammal. You will miss the beauty of the barbet clattering or the lovely elegant hornbill flying. Such elegant life. They have their own ecosystem. It is a lovely thing to see birds along with animals.
Nameri was a different experience altogether. A jungle where you are supposed to walk through. That itself is rare. We walked through the woods and the tall swampy grass in a bid to catch the white wood duck. I had no clue how endangered it was and how rare a sighting was over there. But to merely reciprocate the enthusiasm of the guide and the forest guard was worth the entire walk! Kaziranga too was alive thanks to the birds more than the lazy chomping rhino.
Coming back to Mumbai I came to this new office of ours. The big shiny new office with the shiny new cube. I have always coveted I guess the cabin but on getting it I am first to admit – it is kind of too large for my taste. Really large. And it blocks me out from all the buzz that is happening in the office. In office the bigger you get the more caged you become. Offices look like botanical gardens. With the simple common species that could be found everywhere but really large wild cats will be found in the cages which commensurate with their size. So here I am in this cage, large cage which thankfully has a window right near my computer. I was lucky to be around when it was getting built this helped me choose the right cage of the three options. One had no windows, the other had a lot of windows but also had a pillar and the third was just right. Not too enamoured by vaastu I just choose the one I thought whose window will be nice and bright and just the right size. Nice to have light filtering through in the morning.
I can also see some greenery around here. The best of all, one of my favourite city birds, the coppersmith barbet makes it tonk tonk sound all day long. What more can I ask for. And today as I am writing this post I almost jumped in joy. I spotted the lovely bird from my window. Wow. Nice. It put me in a good mood. This cage is not so bad after all. Besides the gilded trimmings it also has a view. And I can see a barbet from it.
A week back I was happy to be in the free and open, watching the blue throated barbet making its chattering sound and now I am here watching the coppersmith. How we amuse ourselves. How we look at our situation and find joy in it. What must be the animals at the zoo thinking. The pelican must be happy to get his dose of fish served to him. I too must remain happy thus. Every month end I get my cheese delivered to me in my bank account. For that all I must endure is this cage. It’s got carpeting, it’s got a small personal TV, air-conditioning and a view to the tree. What more should one ask for? Why do cribpots complain? Who said man is free to roam around and explore the wild. It is for him to be happy like a lion is in the zoo. He is the star attraction and he is kept happy, vaccinated and fed. It seems (I was reading somewhere) that animals in the zoos might enjoy a longer life than in the wild. Here they are free from disease and hunger. Most importantly they are free from predators.
So all those who believe that man is essentially meant to be in the wild, take your theory and stuff it down your..... *&^%. Be happy in the zoo. You will be well fed and your fat around your belly is just a sign of prosperity. Sure you might get a few illnesses thanks to fat and overwork, but you rather get ill than be eaten by predators, right? All you have to do, like any other zoo, is keep the performance up. Keep fluttering your feathers and shine your mane. The peacock who keeps showing his feathers no matter if it rains or not, is always the pride of the zoo. Similarly here. Keep the act up and you will be well fed, you cage will get bigger. You might get more toys in your cage, better seating area. The big guys are even allowed to eat in their cages and the really big ones have opaque cages so that they can get their mate in them and enjoy moments of privacy. Haven’t you been to a zoo? The big cats always have an ante room in their enclosure, where they can catch a few private moments. It’s the same here.
Oh come on, don’t get too cynical about these things. Unlike the zoos, here you have a door in which you can you walk out anytime. There is no one holding you back in it. No one. Go... shooo... you crib pot.
here's my cage, opps cabin. two views of it. u like it?



oh hell I just realised. It also faces the east tying in with my desire to see the east! wow. yaaaa

you win some... you lose some (sigh)

What a shit pot of a month. I have hardly had the time to write anything in the blog. Today has also been possible only due to the fact that I am in my other office one hour earlier than I am due. Part of me wanted to some in early purely because it gave me the chance to write something. And like most days – this too starts with random babbling without really knowing what I will write and where will I reach. The blog has been a process of self discovery taking me to the deep recesses of my mind that I wouldn’t have accessed otherwise.
Yesterday I got a chance to catch up with a collegue from the UK. We would have hardly met a few times. Possibly twice or thrice, but we have managed to build a decent relationship purely online. One of the few instances of building a sweet relationship within office collegues and that too long distance. Very rare. This lady got to know of my blog through my Facebook account and ended up following it regiularly. After my Facebook account got swamped by ‘friends’ and relatives (both mine and my wife’s) I got that bit of information removed from there. The last thing I want is my wife’s cousin coming up to me and saying – hey nice blog. Yuck. Sometimes it easier for strangers to know about you than acquaintances. Funny world. It’s a koan.
I have always been pretty open on the blog in the safe knowledge that idiots at office will not read. Some idiots will always know about it, get to know about it, but reading a blog regularly? Reading anything regularly? Hah! Shit pots don’t read anything. Even if it was shoved down their throats. My new team is no exception. No one who would really read. I find that queer that if your boss read so much and spoke at every opportunity about reading and from the books he read, then why would you still not take up. I recommend the right books, even told them this time that I would pay for it. But I guess it’s a losing war. That’s why I stopped lending books to anyone. They all want to borrow but no one, NO ONE wants to read anything.
How did I get to this rant? I was talking about this real sweet colleague of mine from London. Speaking to her this time, I was reminded about another sweet colleague at work. These sweet women have gotten this Jekyll and Hyde syndrome. They are really sweet people but have such a hard ball attitude at work. For both of these women whom I really like, when they talk about work, their back straightens, they lips pucker up, their natural smile goes away; the anger and firmness and tough attitude is palpable. Uff. I have always believed that in corporate life you slowly slowly lose your soul, or rather SELL your soul. You lose a part of you that is essential to you. You know it’s there buried in somewhere, the sweet good natured lady with a golden heart and a desire to love and be loved. Simple earthy desires. But dam, I feel so bad when the switch happens from love and laughs to anger and , and, should I say attitude.
So I try and always talk to them. Once a senior whom I respect once told me, that Jaimit, I have known you for 7 years now, the innocence you first had on your face is now lost. That’s when I realised it that ‘yes’, I too have been selling my soul. But I have been trying since then not to. To retain what is essentially me and don’t get sold to these slave traders. Easier said than done. Fighting these instincts every day to survive. At least I try to ensure that those I work with and something that I see worth saving, I do my bit to save.
I know I have no business to play Guru, but people have lost soul thanks to the people around them who make it imperative to do so. People will reward that behaviour and laud it to only reinforce it. I have decided never to encourage this. I will try my best to get these sweet people to be sweet. First thing I do is tell them that they are really sweet. And I love them for it. But more importantly I then try my best to behave in a manner that really brings out their sweet caring nature and refuse – fatly refuse to deal with them when they slip back. For some it works like a charm and for some... for some they have tipped over. Nothing I can do about it. They have lost the ability to trust anyone at work. They view with suspicion everything, everyone.
Well you lose some, you win some. But what gives the right to do this to people and take moral calls. Nothing. I have no right and no duty. But I feel love is an emotion worth saving. I am not good enough to spread love to all. I am only adequate to spread love to those I see with a glimmer of it. I cant fight them all but at least I can make a difference to a few who are receptive.
The colleague I met yesterday for breakfast was amazing. She is a lovely ‘girl’ when talking about food, her boyfriend, her desires and a tough nut tight ass when she talks about work. Wow! What will you do? Talk only about ... everything but office. Am I manipulating people. No. I am only attempting to show them what they are best at and what they actually are. Let down your mask, I mean no harm lady.
Why only ladies. I don’t know. Possibly I work/ relate better to ladies? I don’t know. Possibly the men switch easier. They let their guard down and get it up pretty fast with other men. The women have a process and possibly the flips are more polarised. I don’t know. But I sure seem to notice this more with women than men. Men bonding is different. Just a pat on the back and a common joke is enough to flip. I don’t know. Its worth a thought.
But these lovely sweet women make office life colourful. They have the capability to add so much love in office and change the workspace. They can actually be catalyst for a nice productive and caring office culture. As a boss, it is my duty to do it and spread a culture that I think allows people to go home with happiness in their heart. Hopefully it will eject all the counter cultures fast enough. People either start loving and start caring or just ship out.
One of things I have noticed is the anti Gandhi syndrome. Like Einstein said - Generations to come, it may be, will scarce believe that such a one as this, ever in flesh and blood, walked upon this earth. So many people wont believe a good thing even if they stare at it in the face. They don’t believe it if you are good to them. No can be, there had to be an ulterior motive. They seem to hate you if you are good. It only feeds their hate and anger. You are an ass and a pretence. No one can be sweet and good. It like all these who bash Gandhi. They refuse to believe the good in the world and best of all – I feel so many even refuse to see the good in their own hearts. So sad. But what to do. One starfish at a time....

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On another note – someone was asking me why I drive a hatch back (Hyundai i ten) and my wife drives a bigger sedan (Honda city)? Well my counter is that – my wife’s husband is a Head of marketing in a big bank, but I have no such luck.

It resurfaces time and again.

a tatoo that does not let you say - thats advanced

I have always wanted to get a tattoo, and now reading this article I have made up my mind.... I will get a tattoo done. Here is the link http://io9.com/#!5768038/science-proves-that-teachers-should-get-tattoos but for those too bored to read through, it broadly says this - "128 undergraduates' perceptions of tattoos on a model described as a college instructor were assessed. They viewed one of four photographs of a tattooed or nontattooed female model. Students rated her on nine teaching-related characteristics. Analyses indicated that the presence of tattoos was associated with some positive changes in ratings: students' motivation, being imaginative about assignments, and how likely students were to recommend her as an instructor."
I now have a rational reason for a personal decision. I wish I had a few teachers with tattoos as well. I am sure his (definitely if it was a ‘her’) lectures would be more likely to be filled. Kids would like teachers with a bit of wild side to them! Now to figure a good tattoo artist. What would I like to tattoo? Well that’s simple – anything that denotes, yes, - opposites must reconcile. So I either go with the yin and yang or go with the Natraj.
Talking about teachers – we wiggled more stuff out of Jispa of her tryst with her teacher and birds. It seems she showed a picture of a parakeet and called it a parrot. To the uninitiated it’s the same. But to a child who has been going on bird watching vacations since three four years – it’s the ultimate sacrilege. She pointed out that these are parakeets and that you only get parrots in cages that people keep after importing them from some other country. India does not have parrots. But the teacher said, no you get them in the jungles, but Jispa has been to enough jungles in India to figure out that its wrong. You get parakeets in India. Jispa was pretty tired of her teacher. “She just isn’t obeying me”. Obeying? Wow that comment is going to stick for some time to come.
Then when a friend spoke about seeing a parrot from her house that had a red ring around its neck, Jispa immediately identified it as the rose ringed parakeet. But her teacher said – ‘that’s advanced’. Then her teacher sowed a picture of a kite (the bird). She said, miss that’s a pariah kite. Her teachers standard refrain ‘that’s advanced’. So I was having a chat with her Jispa and we were jointly lamenting about her school, when Jispa said that once she was told to write a essay or something about winter. Jispa wanted to write about winter having the winter solstice and how that is the longest night in the year. Her teacher’s reaction? Yup you got it right ‘that’s advanced’.
I guess its difficult teaching precocious bunch of 8 year olds. Nopes I don’t think Jispa is super extra talented. All kids have a super specialisation. Somebody will be an expert on cars, some of snakes, some on lizards, some on football, some on music and some on birds. They naturally veer towards something they like and I guess many time sit lead by the family. And then they like to show their talents in school, leaving the poor teacher flummoxed. So if the teacher were to listen to these kids, then regular studies would be an issue. But also I guess the teacher must have a better reaction. If she would have heard her and believed in her then the class would have been better off. Possibly she should have told Jispa to make a short presentation on birds or explain some of them or anything. The class would possibly have been richer for the experience. But as their favourite line that keeps popping up – that’s advanced.
Which makes me think, if she had a teacher who had a tattoo that was clearly visible? What do you think her reaction might have been? A bit different from what she got? A bit more consideration perhaps? Now suddenly the emergence of a tattoo on a teacher changing student opinion may not sound that incredulous.
Now where can I get a good tattoo parlour? And yes, I have to get it done in a visible spot.
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An update on the swimming marathon – well in practice the coach showed how easily they do 80 laps. Jispa does it in 49 mins and then the coach makes them do more rounds after that. And after the session is done, the kids simply jump out and hit the showers and fool around. No one is out of breath or is panting. They are just fine. Cool. But Jispa will miss the competition tomorrow as she has to attend her cousin’s ceremony. Jasmine’s brother’s son’s ‘mundan’. Cool. Whatever!

he who laughs last...

We had an interesting time last week. We realised that now we were moving into a prenting zone that increasingly would have situations where you know less and less about what to do or behave. Jispa was having a taekwondo competition in school on Saturday and on Monday while she was practising in school, she over did her practice kicking. By mistake she ended up kicking a pillar and got her tiny toes hit in the process. It was ok whole day and she even swam till it was time to sleep and it hurt a bit. I saw it was swollen and feared a fracture.
As a kid I used to get hurt quite a bit, I gave got bruised, cut, hit but I have never got a fracture. I so wanted one. The fun of wearing plaster to school on which everyone would be able to write messages etc. I always used to get a hit and then get an x-ray only to come back disappointed.
The next day she missed school for some x-rays and the result was negative – no fracture. So we went to our ayurvedic doc to get some medicines to heal the foot and to reduce the swelling. The question now was – what about the competition. I did not care two hoots about it. It’s just an internal competition and that doesn’t really matter, does it? Jispa obviously wanted to take part and doc was ambivalent. If it does not hurt much she could go. Jasmine called up the teacher and gave her an update. In the following days her teacher caught up with her and pumped her up. Jasmine was almost pissed. She told Jispa ‘ you are my girl, you are my best kicker, you got to do it.’
Now what to do? Jispa is pumped up and so is her teacher. I would rather not and Jasmine is with me on this.
Jispa also takes part in inter club swimming meets. There one marathon coming up. What? I asked? A swimming marathon? How many laps? 80 laps of 25meters. WOW. NO was my response. How on earth would she do it? Jasmine too was confused. We asked her coach. Her coach was like – ‘we can take a call. It’s ok. Ask Jispa if she wants to do it?’. Ask Jispa? How would she know? Then Jasmine told me that Jispa does around 50- 60 laps a day while in class in any case. Wow. That’s cool, but 80 laps. Her coach thought about and discussed it with the senior coach and came back and said – go ahead. Jasmine was still wondering when the coach said ‘do it if Jispa wants to do it. On her ability to do 80 laps – that’s ok. She CAN swim 80 laps.’
Look at these situations. As a parent you want to push the child but you don’t want to PUSH the child. You have an idea of her abilities but you don’t really KNOW of her abilities. Here you may disagree with the coach but you know that the coach is probably right. So now we are entering territory where the parents takea back seat and simply watch. I guess we can only be there to encourage and not much else. I probably know jack shit of swimming and even less of taekwondo.
Any ways... her school competition was on Saturday and she was fighting a girl one year elder. That’s a big thing at her age. Given my class and some other commitments, I reached just 10 minutes ahead of schedule to know that it started ahead of schedule and I saw them as they just finished. Talk about timing. Exactly 5 seconds late. Drat. There were two rounds and the first was tied 4 all and the second Jispa lost 2-3. I just came in time to see them announce the result of the bout on the area and then see Jispa remove her protective gear. As the results were announced, Jispa started to cry. She suddenly realised her damaged foot was paining. While it might be true I think it was an emotional release. It’s a tough ask to go in and start kicking and fighting, especially for a girl and especially for Jispa. Jispa is not a natural one to pick a fight with someone. She has a lot of qualities like care, love and forgiveness in her. For her to kick constantly and attack might be an emotional roller coaster. Possibly the balm of winning might have been a soothing touch but the defeat would mean a chance to release. Possibly it was just that – the adrenaline wore off and her foot started to hurt. Possibly she psyched herself not to feel the pain for a few days and it now all gave way. Who knows? But anyways. Since her school is a tiny winy pond, she got a silver for her efforts. One bout you lose and get a silver? Possibly that’s her category or something. Only two in it and no more rounds... who knows. Quite frankly I don’t care. No point in competing in that really small pond.
As for the swim meet, that’s yet to happen. We have sent the entry, but the dates aren’t announced. So thats us relying on the teacher more than on parenting instinct.
But wait – there is still justice at last. AS a family we have been avid bird wacthers in the last few years with us each having our bird books and we keep roaming around spotting birds. Yesterday in class she had a session on birds of India where she told us that she kept correcting the teacher – Miss, that’s a crane not an egret and that’s the egret which you called a crane. The egret is a common bird you see everywhere, even from the bus while going to school. Whoops. Then she explained to the teacher that the bird you called pigeon is actually called the blue rock pigeon. Double triple whoops. It seems that the teacher did not really believe her. Also it seems she knew all the birds that the teacher spoke about. And many more :). Haha. The parent’s last laugh. So we do know a bit about teaching our kid, after all.

I won... sheesh

Last Saturday was Jispa’s annual sports meet. This is a good time for most of us peleb to catch u[p on what celeb look like in real life. The high points of getting your child to a school which even the celebs prefer. What a pain. Here you will have all the normal mothers going gaga over the celebs and wanting to photograph them and be photographed with them. I am sure it’s quite a pain for the celeb. But as some other mini celeb (friend) told me, these stars would become even more insecure if no one approached them! Haha. The life of a goldfish perhaps!
Honestly I find pretty juvenile when the mothers approach these fellas for the photograph. I am happy and content to beat them in the fathers race. Speaking of which, I continued my winning streak at this race as well. it was pretty boring. There seems to be no real competition in my peer set. A tennis sport celeb (one of the celebrated doubles players) who obviously is pretty fit and fast has a kid ina lower age standard and hence does not compete with me. It would have been mighty fun to race against him. My race I dominated, lead from the start and had no real competition. This time I walked away with a bored and under achieved feeling as well. Last year I had worked on my technique, I had high foot lift, I ran on toes, I ran fast all through etc etc. This time I felt my technique was all wrong. I was lazy in the run to the event. This clearly showed me the power of simple preparations, trial runs, muscle memory and visualisations. One has to keep visualising how to play, how to run, what to do in a situation for one to be better at it. I won but it did not seem to fit all together. Somehow the legs did not know what really to do like last year. This time also ego got to me. Half way into the run I could see there was no real competition. I slowed down considerably towards the end of the run. Too many thoughts crossed my mind. Should I just walk across the finish line to show off, should I relax, should I .... what on earth was happening. EGO the main enemy of sport, the chance to show off in front of an audience. And all this in a mere 75 meter race? Dam shit. I took 10.25 seconds. Drat. If not for ego I should have done in max to max 9 seconds. Now that’s a good race. Pumping hard, the toes barely touching, hard push!
Jispa asked me how my race was. I told her I won but I was all wrong. No fun in winning without real technique. Next year I am determined to do better. Determined to run right. I play to wear the right stuff, tracks instead of jeans and better shirt than the loose flowing full sleeves t shirt I wore in sheer arrogance. It does not matter that I won, I am still hurting at the arrogance that I showed. Dam. This something I have always maintained. Sport is internal, you play for yourself, against yourself with you as your main competitor. Who cares about anyone else. That’s what makes swimming so interesting for me. I swim against myself every day. Even when I play cricket or squash. Who cares what the opponent is. It’s you playing yourself. After teaching Jispa all this about competition and me being stoic during her swimming competition the same day later, I made the same bloody error. Gallery! I think it comes close to ‘pride’ but I think deserves a mention by itself as the eight sin ‘show’.
Talking about encouraging your kids, after the sports day Jispa attended a swimming meet. There you always get whacko mothers shouting to their wards ‘PULL,PULL, PULL, KICK, KICK’. What the hell. They are standing at eth edge of the pool and shouting themselves hoarse. You even get father doing the same. Inside the pool is your champion going to hear you. Should your champion hear you or be in a zone all by himself. He is supposed to focus on his technique, the strokes and blank out everything. A huge quiet and calm. Whenever I have done well in cricket or any other sport. There is a huge quiet that descends over me. I can feel nothing, hear nothing, know nothing. I have been in that zone a few times. It does not matter what anyone is shouting. In fact if someone is being specific to you it irritates else lots of other noise just adds to the ‘silence’.
The last few times I ran I was oblivious to competition, to the crowd, I could only feel the ground being pushed under, I could only feel that I was all alone. I couldn’t think of anything except the finish line. Wow. And compare that to this time when I practically wrote a story in the ten seconds it took me to finish the race. Sheesh.
The zone is not something that comes automatically. You have to work on it. Think it through. Be prepared for it. Work on it and then in the middle it arrives. The muscles know what to do, the body knows where to move. Everything falls into place. Then you play as if an angel is inside of you. All falling into place. Effortlessly.
Hmm. Jispa goes to play squash on Saturday and Sunday. I use it to run the treadmills at the gymkhana. Let me see if I can work into that zone there itself. I think it’s possible. Coming to think of it, this Sunday, I had it at the treadmill for a few minutes, I was running beautifully. But somehow I look around and feel someone is looking at me. That’s when it breaks. I must pretty egocentric that I visualise people looking at me. I have to be above all this. Sport will probably help me. Keep me and my inflated head in check. Keep it down, simple and straight. Easier said than done.
I am sometimes afraid that even my humility might be a show. An act that is designed to make me look humble in front of people. Do I have genuine humility? Even at times. Can I help someone purely to help someone without any expectation of anyone looking at me, thinking about me or having an expectation of nice feelings? Be completely above it all. Is that possible? I believe it so. Difficult but not unachievable.

not just any dental date

A ha the fun of having a computer while roaming around. I started writing this post while waiting for the most mundane. I am outside my dentist’s clinic. Well it’s not like I am a regular at the dentist, so I can’t really call her ‘my’ dentist. In fact I can’t remember the last time I was at the dentist. Recently Jasmine had got her root canal done and it cost us a bomb. Root canals do cost a lot and jasmine cant go to the community dentists so she ended up going to a dental studio. She finds the hygiene standards at the community run clinics a bit dodgy. As for me, I am game for practically anything. I have very low hygiene standards and I am known to pick wafers off the floor, dust them or blow some air and eat them. You know that typical guy thing. I look at it as a more macho thing... something like it builds immunity. So keep having it. In any case , there is enough shit in the atmosphere so you are like going to get enough of your germs just like that. A few friendly ones you pick up from the floor or the around will only help you. Hah!
This dentist in any case was a special visit. My elders weren’t and aren’t on the best of terms so we cousins don’t end up meeting too often. My generation couldn’t care less for the property disputes of our elders. But thanks to that we have never been very close. Compund that with the fact that we stay nuclear and os we have even less functions to go to. So basically we are almost cut off from our gene pool. My immediate siblings never understood the fights that our uncles and aunties had and we swore never to let money come in the way ever. Never to let protocol come in the way as well. life is too short to bicker over lesser issues.
So while I was placed in nariman point I used to get to the train everyday and there happily enough I once saw what looked my niece. I wasn’t very sure till she came up and asked me ‘wasn’t I her jaimit kaka’. Err yes. That was fun. Everyday in the morning you get to meet your niece. She is a happy fun person and it was pretty cool talking to her. She was studying to be a dentist. She passed out a few years ago and has started practising in some clinic. So when yesterday I felt a bit of pain in my teeth I used the opportunity to catch up with my favourite niece. Disclaimer – given that I hardly know any of my other nieces, itnot a great achievement. Hah! That was written as while we were talking about the fact that I had my computer open, she figured I blog. I have never tried to popularise my blog. Its been an open but a quite thing. If you know about it then fine. Else even better. So as she said she would one read it, I thought I would be nice and mean to her. I am always mean to her and pulling her leg.
In fact she is 26 and like all happy Indian gujju households, her mom is after her to get married. I don’t understand this marriage scare business. What there to get scared of marriage and commitment? Well its obviously easy for me to say that, as I obviously found someone to get married to. But I got married at 23 and had a child by the time I was 27. It did seem a bit young but I loved it. Today at 35 I have an eight year old. Soon at 40 she should be 13 a mini adult and hopefully I won’t be old and fuddy duddy. I can run with her, play with her and hopefully compete with her. She has already smashed me in swimming. I am waiting to have her taekwondo and squash skills develop so that I can play that as well with her. it would be a bit difficult if I was a bit older.
So our poor dentist niece has a poor role model to look up to. She is not exactly enthused with the prospect of getting married and I keep telling many youths like her that its not that bad. Sometimes all I do is just explain the superficial behaviour they sometimes exhibit. Something like rejecting this guy as she speaks with a local accent or he wears a printed shirt or something. The tables have changed and how... I guess my mom would not have had much say in choosing her husband, but I am happy that we Indians are slowly allowing our daughter to have a greater say. I guess now the pressure is put not physically but emotionally to say yes to a guy of the parents liking. Nice.
So while she explained her exasperation at the various guys she was seeing and choosing from (all crap according to her) , I gently nudged her to a marriage portal. It’s an interesting disintermediation. When these portals made an appearance around a decade ago I thought they would be all sleaze and the last resort for old unmarried / divorced men and women. I started looking at it with a little more respect when I heard that one of my friends met his wife through this portal. Interesting. You see profiles, you approach, you chat a bit, you become facebook friends and then you meet up and figure. Cool nah. Its a bit like dating. And the parents are now open to this new concept as well. I met one lady who I interviewed some time ago. She said she is a maharashtrian who family was after her to get married. So she went online and registered herself and met this guy who was a gujarati. Then she set it up herself and met the guys and decided to get married. All this I came to know when I asked her if her marriage was love or arranged. And she said sort of love. If you see the story I kind of agree with her. is that within the definition of love marriage or arranged marriage. A new term needs to be invented for this stuff – loranged. That sounds a bit like deranged? How about Arrove. Ya... you arrange the match and then you love and then you marry.
Like I was telling my niece – go on and register yourself. See some male profiles, check them out. a bit like ‘body shopping’. In the traditional sphere the women used to feel like they are on display with the men coming in to meet and ‘grade’ them. Now the game is more equal I guess. Men and women have equal body shopping rights! Yay yay!
These are small steps to a new world. That’s why I have so much faith in the Indian dream playing out. Women – we haven’t factored the rise of the women in this economic dream. Their rise gives me great confidence.
So in the end my niece was disappointed. I had no reason for her to give me any degree of pain. My teeth were in fine form and my molars were well and truly filled with the old silver cavities long ago. There wasn’t much to fill in. No root canal that she could recommend and not even a teeny weeny cavity. She would get her revenge on some other day. Tada!