its a sexy job

Yesterday I was justifiably proud of myself. Yay yay. Jispa had to do a project in geography and it was about data and research. She and jasmine were like – this is right up Jasmine’s sleeve. Perfect. Well that put some extraordinary stress on me. I can do that in an instant. Jispa will have the best and sexiest project if I get involved but hell – that is not the job. I am not on trial here. Jispa is. She needs to learn and she needs to understand the magic of data and the bigger magic of showing the data in way that it tells stories.

Jispa had once told me that she doesn’t like me teaching because I can get very stressed out and upset when she doesn’t get the idea. She doesn’t like it. So I have been doing some deep amount of introspection. Why is that I am a great fun guy when I teach at the classrooms and such an ass for my daughter. I can have infinite patience with 60 kids but I lose it with one.  Shame on me. So I thought I probably need to change the setting. Can I use the whiteboard and teach like I teach in a classroom putting distance between the student and the teacher. Space in a classroom could be a liberating factor versus the direct and arm distance gaze (hence pressure) of a private tutor. Much like a book… what you need is also an ability to switch thoughts in the middle. Or like what Salman of the www.khanacademy.org founder says of why his youtube videos were such a hit with kids – the ability to pause and rewind.

Well I couldn’t pause and rewind or even give Jispa the button but I surely did put myself in a special mood before I started. I asked Jispa to sit on the table first and get her books and note book that has square checks on it. Then the BIG CHALLENGE. How do I explain to her without solving her problem? How do I assist her in thinking and put a basic process in place without giving out too much. Answer dena easy hai but to teach in a manner that she finds her own answers is extremely difficult. Admittedly this is the ultimate daddy teaching test. Because even in class in many ways I give a lot of answers, but homework help can never be giving answers. It has to be constructs as opposed to method. This time around it was even more difficult as the topic was not straight and especially since I have some strong and trained views on it. I pride myself in the firm for someone who not only understands data but I am especially good at structuring data so as to analyse it better. I have thought of terms and measured campaign along those lines. The very description of a term to be used helps in understanding the data in a way it makes sense. I am easily amongst the best in our office at this. My MIS over a period of time …. Ok ok… you get the point.

So how do I explain it to Jispa? So I was proud of the way I structured it for her. I sold her the magic of data. How data by itself means nothing. How more data would mean more of nothing? The context is a story. I taught her that data is nothing but a series of stories. These stories must be relevant, must have meaning must have context. Now in your project what stories do you want to tell and what is it that you must ask so that you know what to fill in the blanks. Then once a set of stories were told then the simple act of using existing data to tell more stories can be done – that ladies and gentleman is correlation without using the dirty.

I was so proud of myself. Now hopefully this weekend I will teach to draw up the loveliest questionnaire that is short but pertinent. And then after collection of data – the challenge will be to get her to be inspired to tell the best stories as possible. She shows a lot of promise and I am loving it. at the end of it I hope she not only loves the project but she loves doing a project with me.

There are two skills which will define the young individual of tomorrow – one is language. The ability to convince the other/ converse with another… the other is statistics. The world will belong to the statisticians. If you can’t read data you are dead. I am so happy with the chance to get her to love data that I am trying my best not to screw it up.

Here is Hal Varian on statistics and statistitians and how they are so sexy. Hal is the guy who worked with Google for their famous adwords bidding alogarithim. Basically – a very smart guy.

“I keep saying the sexy job in the next ten years will be statisticians. People think I’m joking, but who would’ve guessed that computer engineers would’ve been the sexy job of the 1990s? The ability to take data—to be able to understand it, to process it, to extract value from it, to visualize it, to communicate it—that’s going to be a hugely important skill in the next decades, not only at the professional level but even at the educational level for elementary school kids, for high school kids, for college kids. Because now we really do have essentially free and ubiquitous data. So the complimentary scarce factor is the ability to understand that data and extract value from it.

I think statisticians are part of it, but it’s just a part. You also want to be able to visualize the data, communicate the data, and utilize it effectively. But I do think those skills—of being able to access, understand, and communicate the insights you get from data analysis—are going to be extremely important. Managers need to be able to access and understand the data themselves.

You always have this problem of being surrounded by “yes men” and people who want to predigest everything for you. In the old organization, you had to have this whole army of people digesting information to be able to feed it to the decision maker at the top. But that’s not the way it works anymore: the information can be available across the ranks, to everyone in the organization. And what you need to ensure is that people have access to the data they need to make their day-to-day decisions. And this can be done much more easily than it could be done in the past. And it really empowers the knowledge workers to work more effectively.”

give and take for life gulabi

It takes two to tango.

The last weekend we had a great time – Jispa and I.  It was awesome fun as you would have made out from my blog post. On Sunday evening as Jispa and I were obviously having a lot of fun, I told her – you have been a really good girl. She was really well behaved. And so was I. I asked before we did anything. She took care to take my opinion in as well. She realized I was putting in an extra bit of effort and that she too kept pace. She would do the house work and be enthusiastic about helping me. We cooked together, we choose movies together and we did everything by talking to each other.

It’s really that simple to have a great time with others. All you do is put in an extra bit of effort, recognize the effort that the other person has put in and voila – good time. If two people come together and simply put in a little extra – you are game.  Many young kids who talk to me expect love to work by itself. I probably expected that as well. Love doesn’t work like that. It’s not magical, is not automatic. love takes effort.  I explain to some of the kids – just because you are in love doesn’t mean that you will get along. Get along for elongated periods of time require work. It requires taking an extra bit of effort.

I told Jispa – you know we are getting along fine without any friction because there is no pressure as well. You are swimming and hence you have time for fun. You don’t have to pack your bags, eat your food, do things on time etc etc. there is considerably less pressure and the suddenly we are great parents and you are one outstanding chick.

If it’s tough being a parent, it’s even tougher being a sports parent. There is so much to do and to take care of. I don’t know if we are doing the right thing by letting her become an athelete. We are putting in all the effort into building a lifestyle that we hope will pay off in the long run.

Dam it – there is so much pressure on being a parent. So much seems to be in your hand. Its overwhelming at times. My sister once said – of course babies are cute. If they didn’t look so cute we would never go through all this trouble with them. I guess that true. If it weren’t for the fun time we have and the love and affection bestowed, it would have been impossible to cope.

One of the movies we saw together was RV. A Robin Williams starrer. If you don’t want animation but you still want to see a fun movie – you are likely to get tired of seeing this one man over and over again. But yes – in that movie – it starts with Robin Williams making his daughter laugh while sleeping and mom urging the two to get to sleep. This happens all the time with us. Jispa and I will be giggling before I put her to sleep and Jasmine will scream out – you have to get up early – off to bed now. Then the daughter in the movie tells her dad that when I grow up I will never marry and go away. I will be with you all the time. Jispa and I start mocking each other with “awwwwwwwwww”. The movie then cuts to the present where the daughter is grown up and now obviously finds her dad a pain and an embarrassment and etc.. you get the drift. I start asking Jispa – see this is what you will do nah. Now you find it funny and then you will find it too ridiculous.

As she grows up I have to keep on inventing newer and newer ways to keep her connected. I keep kissing her on the nose and she hates it. in the middle she was generous and she gave me a 100 such kisses. So every night I would use one of that till it hit the 70’s mark. After which I started doing cute things to get free ones. The figure inched upto 97 where its stayed there.

Jispa protested that I was angling for too many free kisses. So she and I were having a fight on this. Every time we are at the bus stop waiting I think of newer and newer ways to entertain her. For some time it was the man going to the market and buying and eating sweet corn. The corn was her hand. That was fun. Then there were the missiles (my hand) which launched from my window and she had to block them. The ones with wings (outside fingers outstretched) could maneuver and the simple ones went straight at varying speeds. Then the era came of missiles where they at about launch time just go boop. And now it’s the man. This is my fingers trying to act like a man walking and doing acrobatics and go from my window to her and he always fails. For some stupid reason or the other. This is a great hit with her. So I did the thing that any Machiavellian dad would do. Bargained with her… see if you want to keep getting the man then you have to agree on the kiss. I promise not to overdo the kiss thing and you will keep getting the man..  a lot of times.

I think she understood the bigger picture. That of give and take. You give love and respect you get love and respect. Even in a child father thing – it’s a lot of give and take at its core. As long you understand that you are cool. If you are expecting a Utopian dream, then be prepared for a nightmare.

Here is  a completely unrelated treat. I like the feel of the song. Gulabi...

daddy do rock and roll

Jasmine’s family took a jamboree to a religious place and surely they had invited us. Which isn’t a great proposition. Taking an avowed atheist of sorts for a religious jaunt is just what the doctor (did not) ordered. Luckily for me while Jasmine couldn’t wiggle out of it – I could. Thanks to Jispa. Jispa had her interschool competition towards which Jispa had to back out and therefore I was going to stay at home babysitting. But as luck would have it, Jispa has a sports shoulder injury and it’s ruled her out of competitions. Jasmine still wanting to give Jispa rest gave Jispa and me the opportunity to stay at home.

Many years ago when we were staying in Dubai, once Mom had to leave for Mumbai urgently leaving us in the good custody of our dad. We had just received the news that our granny had contracted cancer and she would not have too long to live. Mom had to rush back and we honestly had no clue. For us it was a party of sorts with no mom. To make alternate arrangements I remember dad got a cook form the site he was working. Mom left and the cook was fired in a day. I think mom was away for a week or something. WE hated the cook’s food and dad then obliged us. I don’t know how we managed to survive the rest of the time but I surely remember having strawberries and cream every day after dinner. We got along just fine and much to our mom’s chagrin we enjoyed the sojourn and put on weight. I remember her castigating dad for firing the cook. Hah. Bolting the stables after the horses have fled.

So I am just now fresh from a two and a half day with Jispa. I was determined to spend as much time as I could with her. We wanted to take on joint decisions and figure out what all we could do in the time. Jasmine being the mother tried to figure out as much as possible for us. What we will cook, what we will eat. I had to be honest in hearing her out and keeping a mental note. But in the back of my head I knew – I am not planning too much. This is a rare time that Jispa and I will get and it’s going to be a lot of joint decision making on our part.

So on the Friday evening when our friends called us over I politely told then that I better check with Jispa before I confirm. Jispa was also pretty keen on this bonding shonding thing. She also wanted to go home and catch a movie. So we rented a couple of movies and went straight home. Jasmine had prepared dinner before we left. She also thoughtfully stocked up the fridge with some yogurt, Orangina and she also made some popcorn.

First day gone. Next day Breakfast. This is where I come into my own. I love making breakfast more than anything else. Jispa and I woke up to make a really nice breakfast. We made a double decker sandwich. We invested the thing as we went along. We first shallow fired some onions in butter and then added some sugar while they were cooking. Voila – you have sweet caramelized onions which formed the top layer along with the paneer suitably shallow fried in butter. We also put the salsa sauce just to make it more exciting – but I think could have been easily avoided. To form the second base layer was tricky. I wanted cucumber and pesto sauce. That was an easy mix but now where would the cheese go. WE didn’t want to remove the griller as cleaning that would be a big ask. So in a fit of sheer genius – we added the cheese to eth cooking pot of pesto cucumber – and so now you have melted cheese as well. We simply got the toast ready and there – sandwiches ready. We named it the Madagascar sandwich, in honor of King Julian!

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Then I left Jispa for a part and went to take my lecture. I came back to pick her – saw another movie and starting preparing dinner. This one could have been wrong on epic proportions. I wanted to make a stew like my mom used to make. So I tried to rmemeber how Jasmine had once taught me to make white sauce. Butter to be heated and then add the flour. Ok… now it’s nice na dbrown, lets add the milk and oops… this is going out of hand. Jispa - more milk fast. It’s too thick…. More milk. Oh shit this carton is empty, open another one… lets go. Ok. Now add the chopped salad… I think it’s good. Then Jispa wonders if the quatity is a bit too much. err… ya… we then pour it in a baking bowl and then grate enough cheese and decorate it. We loved decorating it together. La la la li li li… it looks great. And yes it tasted great as well. We couldn’t find the garlic in the house so it only lacks a tinge of garlic but still awesome stuff. Jispa agrees whole heartedly. We devoured over another movie.

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The next day we watched another movie but before we started the fourth I said we go down for a walk. Jispa wanted to cycle but I said we walk and then I threw in an absolute googly. Let’s go down to the park and sit down and …. (here is the clincher) and have some Maggi. Whats with kids and Maggi. They just love it. I too actually love it. I also grew up with Maggi in the kitchen. We now realize it has gulmates and all the bad stuff, but we still allow Jispa a treat once in a while. Imagine a childhood without Maggi. So we go down to the parka and sit down and enjoy the evening with Maggi and lemon barley water and watch a  game of cricket in one corner and another game of football in another. That’s another lovely evening.

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The last bit was making the strawberry and cream. That is a part of Doshi ritual. When mom travels the kids have to get fatter. So we made some amazing strawberry cream with some melted chocolate and some crushed oreos. Awesome. This we made four bowls and finished one off. The others are to be had with Jasmine. With the extra cream (I have no sense of quantities required), I peeled and split opened individual segments of oranges and put them in. awesome… even oranges taste amazing with sweet cream.

So there you have it. All together a lovely two and a half days. Jispa enjoyed it as well. In the middle we also found time to understand geometry. These were really simple concepts that she for some reason couldn’t get in class. I can’t for the hell of me figure why she did not get it in class. Adjacent, complimentary and supplementary angles. Not that I remembered what they were. A little help from Google and we were done.

So we did the homework, we ate some awesome food, we cooked together, saw movies together…. Had fun. When Jasmine came home her reaction – “you guys did not eat anything from what I made for you”. err… not doing what the mom expects you to do when she is away is also a part of the Doshi tradition. My dad taught me that …. Didn’t he?

All photos from my instagram feed :)

dialogue ho toh aisa

Life mein dialogue nahi diya toh kya kiya.

They don’t call me the dramebaaz for nothing. I must have watched the most movies as a kid where videos made their big first impact. I still remember the first day when my dad got a video player home. We were in Dubai and I was near the door. Dad comes in carrying a big brown box. It was billed as mom’s birthday gift. I guess I must have been around 6 years old. And if I am not mistaken the first movie we watched was the Kamal Hassan starrer Ek duje ke liye. Though I am not completely sure. Though the release year fits well but not the month… I wonder.

I remember when we saw the movie we were first introduced to the concept of fast forward and we used it to good effect. It started the trend in our family of using the button to fast forward all the songs. We laughed our head off when it was first used. Kamal Hassan (or whoever) dancing at twice the speed. And then the invariable miss of the song ending to miss a few dialogues so then you press rewind to come back to the exact point when the song ends and the acting starts. Rewind… yes that reminds me of another ritual. When you rent the video from the library the first thing you do is put the tape in the player and press rewind as the last guy who saw the movie obviously returned it without rewinding it. I would rush to take the tape, put it in and then press rewind. Then I would call everybody and then we would gather around and watch the movie. Full on family time.

I was imprinted by the amitabh movies and the amazing over the top dialogues. It was the era of Sholay and Deewar and of course Manmohan Desai cult multi-starrer blockbusters. My mom tells me that once when I had to go to the dentist (or was it the doctor for stiches) I kept my top two buttons open and said “nothing will happen to me – I am Jeetendra” eeps. Jeetendra? Even Dharmendra would have been ok. my only retort is that my mom doesn’t remember the name too well and it was really Dharmendra which I called Jeetendra

But clearly most of the dialogues are the Amitabh variety. So the other day when suddenly when an old student called me up – I just told him – congrats. He was like how do you know. I have learnt over a period of time that you ant really be in touch with a professor. Its typically when you are in trouble and need advice or when you have something nice to share is when you will call. The trouble types or the advice types typically start with an sms, or mail or a whats app. The random – hi sir – is typically a occasion and in Sunny’s case – he was about the age to get married. So I congratulated him up front. He asked me – how did you guess. “sunny, suddenly aisa koi phone karta hai toh either olumpic ka race ho ya police ka case ho ya ladki ka face ho”.

I am sure you did not get this one unless of course you are a bollywood fanboy – especially Amitabh. Amitabh famously said in Amar Akbar Anthonny “Aisa toh aadmi life mein doich time bhaagta hai. Olympic ka race ho ya police ka case ho. Tum kisliye bhaagta hai, bhai”

See it here at  around 1 min and 16 seconds into the video.

“so sunny bhai – tu toh koi Olympic mein jaayega nahi, aur tu police mein phasega nahi… toh obviously – koi ladki ka face hai. Bol kub hai Shaadi”

A ha . I am so impressed with myself. To get a dialogue, connect it and then even rhyme it that too in conversation time. It’s pretty neat. What say?Aapun hai ich aisa.. style.

Reimagine

Some time back we had a party at the club. This was a swimming pool party where we invited all the pool members and we had a DJ. Normally at parties which I attend – obviously my age group, I have often noticed that the crowd swings to the Amitabh songs and the Kishore kumar numbers – suitably remixed. The old is gold. They are the best numbers and they don’t make them like that anymore. That is my general feeling. So typically for a great time I get the DJ to play those classics to the modern beats.

When I was in college the pubs would exclusively play English music. Hindi music was too low market to be played. All out college socials and bazaar day would be full of English music. A few odd Hindi numbers would be played – like meheboba from sholay or something. If you are young and in college and you want to dance then it was English all the way. I think the first ever hindi song that created a rage and was played at clubs was the Bally sago remix of chura liya.  People loved it and it created ripples. I think that as far as my experience goes – that brought Hindi  songs back to the listen and dance hep music circuit.

It also started a trend of everyone and anyone taking an old song and remixing it and releasing it for an eager audience. It also prompted a lot of purists to say that a classic must not be tampered with. these are great songs, why would you want to mess with the original.
Fair point. I really dint care so much.

So back to the MG club swim party. The dancers at the party were all really the young turks aged from 8 to 15. These were the swim kids who had the chance to party their heart out. With their mothers watching these danced till the DJ finally called it a day. There is no better thing than peer pressure. Jispa refuses to dance. No matter how much I egged her, she sat in her chair refusing to move a muscle. She is the same at dandiya meets. She refuses to get up. So I let her be, only to find her dancing some time later at the insistence of her friends. Ya sure.  I reminded of the Aesop’s fable of the sun and the wind arguing on who is better at removing the coat of a traveler. The wind blew hard in an attempt to blow the coat away only to find the man pull the coat closer while the sun simply silently shined down on the man who promptly removed it.

At the party, the kids were very clear. They swayed only to Hindi music and only the latest hot hindi numbers. No amitabh, no Kishore, nothing. Hot fast tempo hindi number. Old songs with great melodies and beats don’t count for anything. What counts is – that its new young and popular. So the purists can take the songs and shove it up their……

On Sunday I was at another party. Here because of the age profile – a mix of old and new songs were being played when I suddenly figured that a lot of old numbers which were remixed and reinterpreted in the Bollywood were the rage. It made me think. It may be a classic but even if that is not constantly reinterpreted for a younger audience it is not going to be accepted. There is no point of a great old song if no one is going to dance to it. An artist’s primary goal in Bollywood is to reach out to as many as possible (to those elitists who sneer at this crass commercialization, I sneer back at them). They were made for a mass audience and that’s why they were hits and hits must be allowed to be reinterpreted again and again. A few flops will emerge. A flop will make the classic dearer and a hit will make the classic go further. In any ways it furthers the original. The fun bit with popular culture is that if it’s not got good, it won’t be popular so why bitch.

So as the DJ played back to back Bollywood reinterpreted songs, I stood back a bit and saw the crowd loving it. These were not simply remixed by Bollywood or the DJ. These were what I would call reinterpretations of the old ones. These are ones that I and Jispa (when she wants to) agree to dance on at the same time.

Like this one

This features Rishi Kapoor in what in his time was possibly a bit of irreverence. Bachana ae haseeno. It’s a classic hit and I am sure it was antiestablishment at the time – check the red heart that he wears on his silver costume.

And now you have his son practicing a brand of irreverence. The father would pine for one chic and his son will danced with three and gets away with it. This too is possibly antiestablishment. See – he doesn’t love any of the chics he is dancing with. He is flirting with them, all in control. He is the Casanova.

Here is another one – the original one was never meant for movies I think. It was a pop single that caught the imagination across borders. Nazia Hassan is the iconic pop singer who sang this one. Disco Deewane!

And cut to the present – this what my daughter loves and would dance to. The Disco Deewane from the ‘I hate it its so bad but the kids love it’ movie – Student of the year. Jispa – I will forever judge you for this one.

And the last one –

The original – Rishi Kapoor again in Om Shanti Om. I remember this as a kid. The huge set piece where the protagonist is dancing on a record player. It forever imprinted my mind with what a dance piece should be.

Cut to the present – Shah Rukh Khan dancing to a completely reimagined Om Shanti Om

All of these are not simple remixes and are reimagined and reinterpreted for the audience. All of them have English set pieces inside of the songs. Sit back and play all of them. Enjoy them all. The original and the new. Change is the only constant – be it, actively propagate it and allow it.

Hindu philosophy has one flaw – from the triumvirate Brahma creates, Vishnu protects and Shiva destroys. It necessarily means new has to rise from ashes – but there is no one who simply copies or is inspired or is happy to reinterpret and reimagine what is old and put it in a new context. Some god that simply copies. Someone akin to Bill Gates – who gave the world CCP – cut copy paste.

Sing from your heart

What do I say? It’s a beautiful song. Listen on.

Ok ok. It’s a blog I can’t be so lazy and just put a youtube link on Tracy Chapman’s fast car and say – aaj ka post ho gaya. I heard this song many years ago when it was nominated for the Grammys. Doordardhan the state run channel would play English music only when the Grammy nominations were announced. That too a small clip. And then we would stay up and watch the Grammy awards. It was ‘the’ thing to watch. For youngsters who were depraved of the in demand western culture, Grammy’s were all you could get to see a part of ‘their’ life and hope to adopt a part of it in yours.

Fast car remains an all-time favorite. Simple tune and a simple song. Though till many years I never got the lyrics. I only got the guitar going ting toing Fast Car. The rest was a bit of blabber gibberish. Today when it was played on a podcast and I heard the song and understood the lyrics.

I heard this stanza

You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

It seems to be a song of hope and despair. It’s funny how the poverty around me is rising and hitting me a lot these days. I just finished reading the City of Joy. Then I went to Devki’s house (previous blog) and then this song hits me. I read the whole lyrics for the first time today and I realized what makes this song so special. While Jispa learns about browing and his poetry and possibly Robert Frost – I have argued that this is as much serious poetry as it gets and must be a part of curriculum. Why can this not be taken in school? Just because it’s sung? And that its popular.

This is what wikipedia says about the song.

The song is a narrative tale of generational poverty. The song's narrator tells the story of her hard life, which begins when her mother divorces her jobless, alcoholic father, forcing the narrator to quit school in order to care for him. Eventually, she leaves her hometown with her partner in the hope of making a better life. Despite her employment at a grocery store, she falls victim to the cycle of poverty, as her life begins to mirror her mother's: her partner remains largely unemployed and becomes an alcoholic. She is left alone with her children while her partner spends time drinking with friends.

Finally, after getting a job that will support her family, she comes to accept her life as the way it is and to give up chasing empty dreams. She tells her partner to leave her; to take "your fast car and keep on driving." The final refrain is sung in variation, changing from "We gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live and die this way" to "You gotta make a decision, leave tonight or live and die this way."

Isn’t there a Dickensian streak in this? imagine having a song being played in class and then analysed in class. Then it takes us to the cycle of poverty and the discussion on economics and taxation and the welfare state. What an enriching class. But alas!

Here read the complete lyrics.

You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better

Starting from zero got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

You see my old man's got a problem

He live with the bottle that's the way it is

He says his body's too old for working

His body's too young to look like his

My mama went off and left him

She wanted more from life than he could give

I said somebody's got to take care of him

So I quit school and that's what I did

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we can fly away

We gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way

So remember we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

I had a feeling that I belonged

I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

We go cruising to entertain ourselves

You still ain't got a job

I work in a market as a checkout girl

I know things will get better

You'll find work and I'll get promoted

We'll move out of the shelter

Buy a bigger house and live in the suburbs

I remember we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

I had a feeling that I belonged

I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

I got a job that pays all our bills

You stay out drinking late at the bar

See more of your friends than you do of your kids

I'd always hoped for better

Thought maybe together you and me would find it

I got no plans I ain't going nowhere

So take your fast car and keep on driving

I remember we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

I had a feeling that I belonged

I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

But is it fast enough so you can fly away

You gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way

 And now go back to the top and close your eyes and listen to it again and suddenly the song  and the poetry has a different meaning for you. It did for me.

And now to close on a slightly up beat yet melancholic note. (opposites reconciling :) ) It’s beautiful and I just heard it for the first time as the next song on some playlist as I was listening to Tracy Champan.

A nautch lower

There was a marriage I got invited for. This guy was a sweet IT guy who left the firm to start his own business. A sweet guy. I was happy when he specially sent a card for me and spoke to me. Of course I would come for his wedding. In morning I was explaining to someone that it’s my philosophy that I typically go to these kid’s weddings. I don’t mind bunking a big expensive wedding but I would go for a small simple wedding. My colleague thought that was pretty cool of me – that I am not affected by status or something like that. I thought a bit and said – nopes. I think you are wrong. I am affected by status. Therefore I go to a wedding of the guy who may be of a lower status. So that I feel invited and special. In a big man’s wedding all are called. You are just some small fish.

But to be true to myself – I rather go where my presence means something to someone. I don’t like going for any weddings. They are a really boring chore.

Our servant since  seven years recently became a grandmother. She invited us to a ceremony a few weeks post the delivery. That day in the evening we completely forgot about it and realized only late at around 9 pm. Jasmine called her if we could come and she welcomed us. She stays in a hut under a bridge. We reached the settlement and her son was waiting for us. We were welcomed inside. It was a small tin room with a fan and almost nothing else. A gas stove in the side with a few vessels was the kitchen. A room made inside the shed was the privacy of the young couple. It felt nice to go. We were obviously the big guys coming in. as Devki (our servant) played with her gand daughter she said to her – look who’s come. Refereeing to Jispa  - she said – see your sister has come. You will go to her house an dplay and learn. She stays in the big buildings.

Clearly it was important for us to come. That is what is important when you attend functions. Is your presence a significant to the person inviting. So many times the invite is just for formality. They invite because it’s just a part of protocol. But when someone like the IT guy, who invited because he felt it would be nice for me to come, then I would love to go.

Coming back to Devki. I asked her a few days later – who else came from the buildings. She said only you guys came. The other lady is not like that. She won’t come. She then said sorry Devki. What sorry I ask. She didn’t want to come to the hutments. Jasmine and I looked at each other. Whew. Its good we remembered at the fag end of the day. Otherwise she would have kicked us as well.

Seeing a hutment where people live is always a bit humbling and I was happy that we took Jispa along. Then only can you get a sense of what privileges we have. We take a lot for granted and we as bankers have no idea what the people really want. Devki has the keys to our house. She comes in the evening, does the work and leaves. But crucially the keys to our house are also the keys to her bank. She keeps er money in a pouch in our house. She has kept a few of her jewelry also with us. She also has stored a few gifts of her grandchild. We are her bank and safe deposit locker. She takes loans from us, deposits and withdraws money and keeps valuables safe. When we think of what the people need what we realize that they need a simple place to keep things safe. Her stuff is not under lock and key and it’s not even worth breaking into my house for. It’s almost nothing to us but a lot for her. She has no use for an ATM or a cheque or working hours of a bank. All she needs is a key. But we give keys only to those people who don’t really need it.

Poverty is a curse and it inflicts itself again and again on people. These guys remain poor because of the system as also by the choices they make / forced to make. Just one statistic floored me. She says in the month or so after the birth of her grand child – she has ended up spending around 25 thousand bucks. Consider this to the fact that she did not have to spend any money on the birth, courtesy the government health service. And she spent around 7 grand on the function we were invited to. Seven grand on food/colas and other stuff. Crazy! That’s the money I told you want for you grand kid when she grows up and goes to school. Save it!

Poverty is a state of mind I guess. Something must have struck my grandfather when he was the only kid that decided to study and go beyond his village. He came to Mumbai and became a doctor. His dad was a humble grocer in a small village in Gujarat. He paved the way for prosperity for his generations to follow.  Moving out of the poverty trap is not just working hard, its also thinking hard. Devki works as hard as any one of us, but as she tells – when her son got married she blew a lot of money in the village on the function – including a nautch girl to dance. It seems including her payment and booze – it cost her 800 bucks. Now her relatives want her to come and organize another celebration. I am keen to go to her village and witness it first-hand. That would be another interesting subject for a travelogue.

 

The joy of giving joy is the greatest joy

Apologies for the alliteration but that is the greatest joy I see.  I may be a teacher at heart – I have tried to teach wherever I can and but I think the underpinning of all that teaching is that I am a performer. So two words describe me – performer (as in the arty types, the loud types, the actor types – not the top of the line types, not the excellent types, not the sales target champion type of performer). The second one is teacher. In marketing we like to put these in two different boxes. One is the motivator and the other is discriminator. The motivator is why need you fundamentally address and the discriminator is how different you are from others in addressing it. So when I think of myself – which word is which. Is the performer the core motivator or is teaching the motivator. Am I motivated to teach and I am a different teacher because I am a performer (I do funny things all the time while teaching) or am I a performer and I since I don’t have any other tricks I figure I get my audience by teaching.

Good question.

But I surely like to perform all the time. I have always wished and looked upon with envy at people who could play a musical instrument. I wish I could. I wish I learnt as a kid. The two instruments that I remember would always catch my fancy were one- the harmonica and second the flute. These are amazing instruments in the fact that these are possibly the easiest portable instruments of all time. you can carry them wherever you want and there you have your music with you in your pocket. Flute wins hands  down purely on the melody bit though.

Ever since I can remember – possibly since I was around 8 I would dream about playing these instruments everywhere. Just put them in your pocket and play it somewhere to someone. Regale an audience. An anonymous audience, an audience that is not expecting your performance. I never ever dreamt of playing on a large stage before a large audience. That never excited me. What excited me were the street performers who played on in the hope that people like what they are playing and danced to your tune. People who played for a penny were the real heroes in my life.

Art is a gift. It has no value that one can put on it. I would hate to price my art. What is the price of making someone smile? That’s why I love to teach where I teach. They possibly give me some remuneration that does not even pay my petrol bills to reach the place. But the joy of teaching – of showcasing my art – is greater than anything else.

Art must reach the common man in a form and manner that he can access it, touch it, be one with it, interact with it. when we won some award at my firm, to celebrate we hired a crooner with a  guitar and one bongo or something and we set it up in office. The office guys went crazy. They started singing with them, one guy took charge of the drum, the other took his guitar and the third (and fourth and fifth and sixth) started singing. It became something that was inclusive and not exclusive. We could have had a stage performance where chairs could have been laid to watch – but this way people interacted with the art and were one with it.

We celebrate Christmas and Diwali and then quickly put a cordon around the thing. You will see Diwali rangolis with cordon around it, Christmas trees with cordons around it, you will in fact see Santa Claus with  balustrades. Who is in the prison – him or us?

I want to break these barriers. That’s why the big mirror bubble at Chicago is what it is. It allows for people to be a part of it, interact with it and be one with it. It does not exclude but include. Everyone’s invited. All it takes is the first curious guy to break the invisible shackle and all hell breaks loose.

That’s why I love flash mobs. Flash mobs take the performance to the people. Thye can feel it, be one with it, it includes everyone into the stage. There is no stage. The performer and the audience, the stage and the theatre is one. It is a fusion of the opposites (a reconciliation of opposites), a burning of the curtain, that makes flash mobs so sexy and so engaging. The best flash mobs are those that are inclusive and interact with the people around. I saw this one today and I found it most lovely. In fact I went emotional. I wanted to do something like this.

This one is really special. What is different about this one from other sis really quite a simple thing. A child pays a coin to start something. She was expecting a simple small thing to happen. Slowly she is amazed by the width of whats on to offer. It took a child with a coin to start it. it was on demand. It interacted in some ways with the audience. That is what made this flash mob so special. Social networks unknowingly caught it bang – the headline screamed - “Best coin ever spent - A little girl donates some coins to a street musician and gets the best surprise in return. Well, that's certainly money well spent.” So there were many other flash mobs involving musicians, but this one was especially poignant. The whole orchestra can come in for a penny for a little girl. Not free – but for a penny from a girl. Sometimes – a penny can be better than free. Most marketers would disagree!

The joy of giving joy is the greatest joy!

tendlya gaya

Last week we had the grand retiring of Sachin Tendulkar. Arguably amongst the greatest batsman to have played the game, I had wondered for many years what would happen to the Indian cricket team when this man retires. I explained the significance of this man to my cricket entertainment and what he meant to me.

I remember first reading about Sachin in the papers when this young school boy smashed to a world record partnership in a school match. He and Vinod Kambli plundered a hapless bowling attack and were heralded as the great potentials for international cricket. Then he got chosen to play Ranji and the Irani trophy ties where he smashed another set of runs. For us Sachin was our prodigy, our Bombay boy who we all owned a part of. We were instrumental in his success. We wanted him to play for India as soon as possible and the newspapers reflected our opinion which was taken note of by the selectors. That was our dream. He was our favorite son.

We followed him to Pakistan and I still remember the way he tore Abdul Qadir, the legendary leg spinner in the one day match and announced his arrival to one day cricket. Our family was very clear – here was the greatest champion of world cricket. He was here. I have great memories of watching cricket with my dad, spending full days watching a game of cricket on TV. India were a  bunch of high potential losers. We were too soft to play the new age of cricket. We had talent but as dad would often say – no temperament. Till we had Sachin. In ODI’s he would come in at 4down or 5 down and get a limited number of overs to play. I remember dad and me clamoring for Sachin to open the innings. And lo behold. I remember waking up early morning in a Panchgani  hotel room to see Sachin walk in and destroy the bowling attack. He used his technique to play lofted shots and forever imprinted himself on the game. And then came the era where we only had hopes on one man. We would get in watch till he got out. I remember having the greatest of stress while he was batting. On one hand you would enjoy his batting and the fact that he took the bowling to shreds but at the same time you knew he could not get out. If he did – we would have no hope left. We would lose the match, the plot and our pride. It was him that the entire hopes were pinned on. I remember my brother and me hanging our heads in disbelief as he would get out. Match is over. I remember seeing the wild frenzy of the opposite team as they did a naked dance and celebrated wildly as they got the man.  It was clear why the entire 22 men were on the field. 11 to get him and another 11 to keep him there. And the world was watching who would win – and when.

My dad was such a Tendlya fan that even when the maestro was on bowling side, he would insist that the ball be given to him while bowling. He was convinced that some magic would happen, and invariably it did. He would pick a wicket, stop the flow of runs… whatever. He would bowl legspin to a right handed batsman and switch to off spin for a leftie. He would bowl seam up and swing it both ways. What a guy. He was born to play cricket. I remember when he suddenly started sweeping. It was something he started later in his career and I remember when he first played a reverse sweep. The result was a boundary (against South Africa).

He gave us such joy, such a joy! Statisticians have commended and condemned him at varying intervals. People hated him later and called him selfish. There have been many undercurrents. I surely stopped arguing with them. Sachin was not a number to me. No number would suffice for the man. I don’t even care about his test cricket. For me it was his one day cricket. I thought that was the only thing he born to play. He was the poster boy of the generation to which I belonged to. Being two years elder to me our growing up has run parallel. I grew up with him and I feel I too have a hand in his fame, fortune and run of luck and form. Being a Mumbaikar Sachin is my brother, my loved one – who taught the world that you can be technically correct and yet score fast and be a joy to watch, that you can be calm and yet very aggressive, that you can contribute by your enthusiasm and your verve. Even though you might never be a gifted fielder but you try hard at what comes your way and yes – your throw will always be hard. No soft throws.

My captain always taught me – look at Tendulkar play. He hits the ball and does not eye ball the bowler. He simply looks down and almost apologetically taps the pitch. It’s like he is saying ‘sorry, shot lag gaya. Ball aisa tha, shot toh lag gaya’. No chest thumping, no blood letting, but mind you – he wanted to win as badly as anyone else.

The other thing I learnt from him is that if you are a great payer – the same qualities will make you a bad captain. On his retirement people opened up and admitted that as a captain he would expect the same from others. For someone who is a natural at things, its impossible to explain or motivate someone to do something. The genius refuses to understand whats so tough. Lesser mortals cringe and awe at achievement.

Some things may easy to me. They were simple when I did them. And it irritates me no end when I see my team not being able to understand it. I learnt that while they can’t do the same, they can do something else that I could never.  Captainship is about patience and lifting your team to do beyond their abilities not match up to yours. Your ability is not the point here. It doesn’t count. What counts is the team. The team must work together and play above the weight. Sachin, in his failings also taught me that. You can’t be hanuman and you can’t win on your own.

Finally I am sure the stats will show that whenever we relied too much on one man – we invariably lost. For all his brilliance he never won us the world cup. We won it when he was just one of the spokes of the well-oiled machine – important but the only keystone. When the rest of the team looks at the man for inspiration and not awe – when the team is happy to have him and not solely dependent – when everyone knows their role in relation to the game and not in relation to the man – that is when magic happens.

Good bad – I have a strong personality. It weighs in on the team at many times. I have learnt to control it a fair bit, reign it in but more importantly give power to the second in line to lead. To push the boundaries of their own, in their own identity.

Sachin was a genius who held our hearts with amazing care. But that was his failing as well. He knew, we knew he could do it – that’s why most of the time he might have failed. You might be the greatest ever but it takes 11 to make a team. All 11. And you cant pull it for long. Even the best have to just do their bit… the rest pulls it alongside.

I really love him and I can’t really see the criticism of the man’s averages. Playing and playing when you can’t get out is something stats will never capture. Understanding the role of a batsman when you play is something stats can’t ever decipher. Stupid people.

You don’t mess with Tendulkar you miss with my memories, my hope, my life.

This may be an automated marketing gimmick from BCCI but to me and his family - I think this is the best i have seen. it means a lot for some stupid emotional reason. Thanks dude.

baazi haar kar bhi baazi jite....

Monday morning we went for the athletic training. Jispa has joined once a week training to complement her swim training. It involves a lot of stretching and some jogging. The lady in charge makes us run two rounds of the racecourse, which is around a little less than two and a half kilometers. I run with Jispa almost as a pace setter. I keep her running; keep egging her on, let her keep a pace. It’s fun to run together at least once a week.

Around a year back I stopped competing with her in swimming. With a dive I could just about match her timing for one 25 meter lap. But around a year ago she beat the shit out of me. With a dive and without a tumble turn I was beaten crazy, and I was huffing and puffing while she was looking and me and smiling. One more round? Buzz off. No way.

So I am happy that at least in running we are starting off together and we train together. This way at least I run with her and share some pain of the sport together. I push her and she pushes me. Once the coach asked us to go for a sprint. While coming back it was great fun pushing her. She is a bit competitive. She is silent and yet I see flashes of competition, nothing of the chest thumping aggression but a desire to push the bar at times. I like that. That race was fun. Towards the end, she went fast, then I went faster, she pushed, I pushed harder… there were at least three such bursts before I won! Yay.

Now this started off a competition between her and me. So every time the coach gets us to do a round the last bit becomes somewhat of a race. This time the coach asked us to run two rounds. The first one should be slow and easy – 17 minutes instead of the normal 15 minutes. And the second one must be faster. Jispa is a horrible starter. She starts complaining the moment we start. My stomach is paining, my ankle is paining. Then she goes too slow, then she will have a shoe lace to tie. She starts really bad. I keep encouraging her. Then at the mid-point she does better and then at the end she finishes strong.

This funny schedule spoils my running style. I like running consistent. So at the start I am forced to run really really slow, which is tiring. So we did the first one slow. And with the winter just about setting in on the second round I got a bit of a congestion…. And something went haywire. I started breathing really hard. I guess I need to restart my swimming to get back into clean breathing systems. But it was really bad at the end. (okay okay – these are all excuses – genuine but excuses)I asked Jispa if she wanted to start the racing bit. She said – no later… I was ok. we do it later. When the last 100 meters were being covered – the little rascal started to run faster. She suddenly moved up a couple of gears. I Pushed my self… and that’s it – there were no more change of gears – she just ran off. I looked and tried but had no reserve energy left – I couldn’t attack. Dam it – where did she get this reserve after running 4 kms? I lost this race. Now she whips me in running as well. that felt really really good.

But now I am waiting for the next one. This time I hope to have clear lungs and nasal passage and this time I will start the race a bit earlier. And I want to beat the shit out of her. I don’t like losing as well. Her aggressive streak is also there in me (that was a bit of an understatement).

Sport has a funny way of showing people’s inner demons :) . It exposes you to a side of personality that normally stays hidden. Not just for yourself but also for others. Running with Jispa is exposing a side of her personality to me. I had suspected that she had this streak but was not sure about it. We always have told her – you need not win – do your best. But I have seen her push herself in different situations. Relays are one place where her timings are the best. But this aggression which is quite, well directed and focused with a kick to win an interesting race…. That’s a nice one. You don’t need to win all the races you participate – only the ones you love to. Choose well :)

Just for record – the second round was 13 minutes.

Its not funny

Vir Das is a standup comic. I had seen him on stage many years ago and I thought he was definitely unfunny. Now many years later he now has gained popularity and is now doing paid solo shows. That’s cool but I don’t see any reason why I should go for the show.

So when our friends planned ado together to see the show I was definitely unamused to start with. Why would I pay to see Vir Das. For those of you who are wondering – Vir Das moment of glory came when was a supporting actor in the movie Delhi Belly. He was good in the movie and  could act as far as I saw it. But still – arrghh… I don’t like comic acts and I can barely tolerate them as fillers between shows. They are not funny enough.

Grudgingly, after irritating and chewing jasmine’s ears for agreeing to go, we went for the show. I then realized that the ticket prices were 1000 bucks a head. SHIT. F&^% Y*&. ARRRGGHHHH. I hate this group thing. The how was designed as ‘the battle of da sexes’. So they kept the ladies seated in one half of the auditorium and the men in the other half. And then he started. To be fair to him. I think he has matured a lot now. He is much better than when I first saw him years ago. He brings a fair amount of energy on stage and to his performance. He talks well and his jokes are ok with a few funny ones. He probably spares no one in his castigation. But I refused to understand how the people when gaga at him and after the show. What’s there to gaga?

I do that all the time. Come in to see my lectures some time. They are the same type of jokes. You play one set of audiences over the other – typically male v/s female an then you support one and thrash the other. In the middle catch some unsuspecting member of the audience and pass a few jokes on him. I do that to one special character in my class all the time. this special character is typically one sweet guy who is usually loved by all but is made fun of and generally works as a good sport. People came out and were speaking about the energy for two three hours and how that is not easy. Well come over. I have had 6 and a half hour lectures and I still scream and shout and crack jokes while discussing serious marketing. It happens all the time.

Ya sure it’s a performance. And surely its nice but I STILL DON’T LIKE PAYING 2,000 BUCKS FOR IT. PERIOD. It’s like this thing where I hate paying full price for a shirt and other stuff. I know its the marketing that’s taking most of the money away so I like hunting for deals and like paying less. My marketing ego can’t let me buy most of the stuff. The same reason I hate business magazines and newspapers. They too are completely manipulated by the business houses. I know what we do in PR. The quality of journalism is bad thanks to the deteriorating quality of journalists. Most journalists don’t understand the domain and only rely on press briefings to take them through. Very little homework and absolute lack of understanding. Who wants to read that crap anymore? Especially if you have seen eth back rooms from where PR operates.

So that’s why I hated the experience. But it was a full house. All seats sold. And people were laughing a lot. I genuinely laughed on a few jokes as well. But still at the end I was bored on the moderate side.

I asked Jasmine and Jispa, if they remember my lectures. They have attended a few. Don’t I perform like that? I make the class laugh a lot and have fun. I crack jokes all the time. I am rude and politically incorrect at times. Jispa was not allowed at eth comic show but she agrees – I scream and shout and crack a lot of jokes while in class and the whole class laughs like crazy. And yes – I do it for a princely sum of Rs 200 an hour.

flights of fancy

Yesterday was a morning evening flight to and from Chennai. I hate these morning evening flights. You wake up at obscene hours and then you return at one such hour as well.

But it’s nice to crib about flights now. I remember when I first started my career; flights were a dam big thing. I would look up to my bosses and wonder if I would ever be in a situation to fly to every part of India. Would I ever be that important? I remember my first official flight. It was to Aurangabad. We had appointed one distributor there and I went to set it up and other such formalities. I had asked my boss for some advice. Flights were a big thing when we were growing up. All holidays were always by train or bus. Largely by train. The second class sleeper train travel. And we loved it. But I was also secretly proud that I had taken flights in my life. Since we lived in Dubai, we would come to India every year for a vacation, I flew in around 18 flights. I remember counting the number later when I grew up. I was a privileged person. No one took flights and especially not international flights. Airports were big things and people would come to receive you and drop you off the airports. So I grew up thinking – wow – flights.

Then came my first one to Aurangabad. It was an amazing feeling when the aircraft lifted off the ground after accelerating on the run way. It was amazing surge of power. The next flights were going and coming from Goa where I had to go to launch a branch. We reached late at the check in counter and we were given the last seats which don’t recline. But hell – it was flight wasn’t it.

And then I joined momentum consulting in which I filled in a frequent flier form and became a silver card holder in just 9 months. BAM! Flights were a routine in my life then. Still I think I was still living the dream of being on flights everywhere, calling from a thousand kms away to reach in under two hours. I think I used to have this ritual earlier where I would call Jasmine before the plane took off and then I would call once I landed. I don’t think that rite lasted too long.

Then in the middle when the economy was doing well and we made some obscene amount of money we would fly off in all directions. I had a few long international flying hours as well. If I thought flying once to Kolkata for a two hour meeting was too much (to and fro same day), then I was once flying to London for a four hour long meeting (that too business class). In fact I was flying so much that once I clearly remember feeling very tired in the car and I folded my hands. The very act of sitting and folding hands felt sore. I felt that could not sit any more with folded hands. That’s when I realized I had outgrown my flying dreams and ambitions.

So yesterday was another tiring day. I felt so tired at the end of it. You wake up early, shower and catch a light breakfast (that’s the best thing I learnt for me), catch a bad, then wait for eternity at the airport then a two hour ride and then a one hour taxi and then full day meetings and the then shit in reverse. Can any day devoid of any physical activity can be so tiring. I would have never thought so. Starting at 4 am and hitting the sack at 11.30 pm and catching sleep on the flights – no wonder I had no energy left to take Jispa running today. No chance in hell. All good intentions died with the 5.00 am morning alarm. Screw you too. Jasmine was like – don’t set alarm and then decide – decide at the start itself. Yah… I know but I had great intentions when I hit the bad. They evaporated at the sound of the alarm. What to do?

google doshi

The other day we were scheduled for a dinner which was happening quite late. So we went to the McDonalds nearby and had a bite.

Jispa while eating the burger asked me “eating the burger makes me feel very thirsty”. “of course” I replied “they put a lot of slat in your burger so that you love it and then of course you feel thirsty. Then to mask the taste of the salt, they add tons of fat to it”. “Why would they want me to be thirsty?”. “well so that you buy coke”. “But then I will simply drink water which they give free”. “Is that so? Go take a walk around and see the restaurant. See every table and tell me what people are drinking”. So Jispa took a walk around the restaurant and came back with a huge exclamation mark on her head. “on every table there is a cola and the only two places where they didn’t have a cola was where there was no food as well.” “There you are. Now what’s the price of a cola at McDonalds?” “umm 15 or 25 rupees” “Go ask and find out” She went and asked and came back with another aghast expression – its 49 rupees. ‘whats the price of a burger” “allo tikki is for 25 bucks”. “and the cost of making it would be around 10 to 15 bucks, possibly. While the cost of serving the soda cannot be more than 2 to 3 bucks. So where do you think is the profit margin. Cola or burgers?” “wow” she was completely amazed by the math. “so if they make more money selling colas than selling burgers are they a fast food restaurant or a cola selling company. You decide”

Now that we were at it I threw another ball “Whats the cost of the happy meal at McDonalds”. “99 bucks” as she found out. “So remove the cost of the burger and coke and see what you get” “25 bucks for the toy?” “yes exactly – they are selling the toy at 25 bucks, which till now you and everyone else thinks is for free! 25 bucks for that toy which I think can’t be costing them more than 10 bucks”. “ya and the quality isn’t all that nice” she said. So thanks to that I explained her “McDonalds has become the largest toy seller in the world.” Wow.” Then I showed her the Hamleys store. “they are bigger in toys than Hamleys as well”. “bigger than Hamleys which sells only toys”. “yes sweetheart, they sell more toys than anyone else. So are they a fast food store or a toy retailer selling colas.”

“see the fun when you have something so overpriced like cola. They never ever prominently mention the price of the colas on their menu. You have to struggle to see it” (it was on a display hidden behind a column). “this way they can combine and sell you value meals and you think you are paying less but in effect they have already overcharged you for the drink”. “isn’t that cheating? Selling colas that expensive” “no they are allowed to charge whatever they want for the cola. A five star hotel will charge you 500 bucks for the same thing. That’s also allowed. It’s not cheating Its marketing”. “I am not telling you lies, I am only selling you differently.”

She was wow. “How do you know all this”. “hahha. I read. And that’s you are going to get in the books I bequeath you. Of course not all of this is from the books or in any one book but you get a sense of stuff around you once you read enough. Then you know how to figure things out as well.” “Google Doshi” was her parting comment. She knows that some of my friends call me that.

But that was a nice conversation with her. She is now big enough to know a lot of this and is able to figure a lot out as well. It’s fun growing up with Jispa.

talk to the MAN

We are professionals. I work in an office and in a large setup. I know what it is to make an organization move and I know how the inter-politics work. And thanks to a lot of wisdom gained I assume I might be smart enough to understand a little about how the market dynamics are.

Earlier when I would speak to an entrepreneur, I used to be a little … haughty… I guess. I probably thought that the entrepreneur would never know the real way a large organization works and the thinking we put into a product. I thought that we are as a tribe smarter than what he is. But over the years I have learnt to respect the wisdom of the businessman. Whatever little he knows has greater value than whatever much I might know. I realized that finally that is the guy who takes the risk fundamentally. He is typically closer to his customer and while he may not have any theoretical construct he makes up for it by having passion, drive and of course the associated headache.

So I find it funny when someone like him comes to take advice from me. I think there is an interesting creative tension happening. He knows his beans but at the same time he also knows that the guy on the other side has some secret sauce that he is eager to learn from. There are systems and processes that a big firm guy knows that an entrepreneur never is exposed to. Or basically learns the hard way. They struggle with this construct. Managing systems and processes while growing crazily is a  marathon task. Typically systems are put in place once the growth rate slows down. Because while you are growing there is no use of a system. A system would make you slower and less responsive to change and adaptation.

So when talking to a entrepreneur my premise is simple – he is always right. He will know more than you and will always be better informed. Even if he isn’t. Its actually not as complicated as it sounds. It’s basically the frame of mind I put myself in when I am talking to him. This way I don’t get too arrogant while talking to him and genuinely start listening to him. Because there are so many times that the guy must be actually doing things without even knowing he is doing it.  Only when you think in this manner can you really understand and dig for clues as regards his behavior. Only then can you have a conversation that is enriching to both. And advice is never what he should do – but it is always what I see with my limited vision. Things that have helped me in my daily life and from that it is up to him on what he wants to take. It is essentially the same thing when you talk to anyone else. You have to essentially talk your experience without really thinking that the same is simply transferable.

I love these businessmen who have set up their own businesses. They have a way of doing things that have got them this far. I love to see them think and see them wondering about change. Some are constantly looking to change and some are constantly trying to maintain status quo. If anything I get a great deal of learning from talking to them. They probably don’t know but I too look up to them in some way. Finally I too take risks on the job, large ones but I know that my risks are not threatening. Sometimes these guys have to take risks that will forever change their lives and possibly take them to a newer orbit.

Hence the premise is always simple – you are right. Now let’s see where we can go from here. Its funny how this has happened over a period of time in my life. When did I swallow my arrogance and when did I decide to move my thinking. Possibly it happened when I realized that I don’t know more than I know and that not all that you know is right. But chuck that.

Coming back, I have also learnt that theoretical constructs are still very valid to anyone. The more I have understood about them by teaching and applying them the more I realize the wisdom in them. Even unstructured situations and growth can be better managed and understood if you have a lens through which you see them. There is wisdom that people have gathered over the years and they come out in these theories that are being made. The trick is to catch the theory, apply, seek for deviations and trust yourself enough to wonder why the deviations occur when they shouldn’t.

I have applied certain theories more than others and more I apply the more I see them (certain ones) as being right. it has improved my understanding of them. The problem is when I have to explain them to the entrepreneur he finds it difficult to catch them. In fact he tends to dismiss them as theories so I have to do the difficult thing and don’t present to them as such. I have to push them in different ways and lead to the same result. It’s a very difficult job. An entrepreneur typically knows his current problem and whatever you say he is constantly trying to find the solution to that problem. He is hunting for solutions to the problem he sees and therefore quickly loses interest if it does not fit or quickly catches a solution he sees a fit. They are always thinking fast and I find it difficult to hold intense conversations with them which require deep thinking about a particular issue. They are used to fast processing…. Quick in quick out kind of processing. I think at first I would try and catch them with a 100 different cases and possibly try to dazzle them with knowledge. But that is of no use to him. So I talk to him, understand from him and then try and just have a simple conversation using his examples and words. This way we possibly reach a better solution that is truer to his real problem.

They learn more from heart to heart conversations than from gyan distribution sessions. The gyan shit is needed for the MBA trying to look smart but the real work is needed by the business man to stay alive, relevant and promising. It’s the real thing man.

naya daur

It’s always nice to talk to more and more people. Especially from those you can learn from and those who can learn from you. Teaching is my passion and I have had strong bond with all my students. I have kept that relationship very strong with my students and I always am there to lend a hand whenever they reach out to me. They get in touch for personal or professional issues and I feel that I should always be there for them. It’s a special relationship that is built on something different from everyday life. I treasure it.

Yesterday I was invited by one of my students to give a lecture to his team on the stuff we do on digital and the way I see digital progressing. And his is a digital agency to start with. I have come a long way in the last three years. I have invested most of professional life and practically staked my career on digital. Digital is it. The problem now is getting the other idiots to recognize the value of what I see in digital. But that is another story. It was a nice talk (I think) that I gave and I think it was well received. I have learnt to talk and crack a whole host of jokes while doing so. It just gets the engagement levels going up.

Afterwards the best bit was talking to the student who has now grown up to be a fine business man leading a team of 100. We were talking about various things in life. The nice bit is always when your student grows up and the conversation is from one adult to another. It’s no longer a top down talk a teacher would have with a student. The healthy respect is still there but fundamentally its an adult adult talk on various aspects of life.

One of the things he said was that he loved this blog of mine. To which I said that I don’t know. These days the blog has been floundering a bit. As I explained to him I realized that the blog seemed to have lost its voice. I think the blog has had different tones of voice over the years. To my mind there have been three so far. Now it needs to find a new voice for itself, for myself. Of course the thing is that parenting is going to be difficult. And it will have new challenges. That’s old hat. I have said that a million times there is nothing new about it. But there is so much else to be talking about. So many incidents to share, so much else to think aloud on. These days my opinions have been tempered, so what they still are there… lets bring them out.

Another thing I realized that I was so happy to see him married and settled. I loved to talk to him and his wife (who runs the business with him). I almost have paternal instincts with my students. Any guy who marries anyone I think – that a nice bride he has got and hopefully she will take care of him. And any female student marries, I think what an ass of a guy she got, I hope he takes care of her. I don’t think Jasmine understood this when I explained this to her. I think it’s a fatherly thing.

So now – I have to find my new voice. Let me try and not get too serious. Let me try and speak about various other things in my life. There are so many things to talk about, speak about and blog about. Let me try and discover my ‘now voice’.

Because most of all I need to enjoy my blogs. It can’t be tiresome bore that it became in the last few months. Complete bakwas. I normally don’t read my own blog ever. I must never ever read any entry of mine but I can’t not have fun writing it. So let’s try and get a new voice. Let’s try and write some random stuff. Let’s see where it leads us. Can I get a new voice of my own?

stomp boom

You see this on the road and what do you think?

Boys will remain boys. When we were growing up these tetrapacks of Frooti were great while full and even more fun when you finish off the liquid. You then basically opened it out, place it on the ground and go STOMP. There would be a large BANG and that would mean a free cracker. Wow! Once I learnt about it from my friends I used the trick to stomp an empty pack wherever I saw it. You don’t care who threw it on the road, all you did was go stomp and bang.

This went on real fine till one fine day when I was still in school I was walking near Kings Circle (I remember this very well) and I chanced upon a pack on the rod. Yes a pack waiting for my stomp and bang. I lifted my leg and let down with a STOMP. A BANG followed and then I was completely taken aback by what happened next. The dam pack was a brand new pack with Frooti inside. I remember seeing in slow motion the yellow liquid bursting through and I was trying to avoid it and a large amount of it flew to my pale blue faded denims to soak them with a sticky sweet yellow liquid. Yuck. Imagine if a glass of mango juice spills onto you.

Once while flying back from London on a business trip as we were taking seats the stewards had placed a glass of mango juice on every seat. Now why would they do that? Why would they put a glass before the passengers are seated and comfortable? That’s a British carrier for you. They don’t care. You are to get your free drink so the faster I put it on your table the better it is for you. You can then come and get uncomfortable trying to maneuver into place while not spilling your drink. That’s the shit bit. As luck would have it, it spilled on my seat and there was yellow sweet sticky liquid over my precious business class seat. The steward tried to clean it with tissues but you can’t really clean a juice spill properly with at tissue box can you? Luckily they had another free seat or else I guess the freaks would have had me sitting on that seat. To hell with business class getting better service or the sort.

So coming back to the pack on the street. Post the earlier incident; I never did ever burst a tetrapack ever again.  Especially the laawaaris ones you find on the street. No way. Every time I see a pack lying unflattened, I am tempted but then I am reminded of my escapade from nearly 25 years ago and I stop. Let an unBOOMED tetrapack remain unboomed. Someone else might come and enjoy that. I am staying away.

And while we are at it – here is one nice dance number going boom boom boom…

And just on dance hits – this song is the greatest hit with those under 13 years old… they dance like crazy with steps and all and they can listen to this all day long…

Radha from Student of the year. I can’t understand how the kids love the movie and this song. With my daughter nd her gang wanting to listen to this all the time I have now begin to hum it at times. Oh god…