China Diary

In the middle of the work mess that I am coping with, I forget to note in this blog that I went to China. Ah china. I was always fascinated with China. Especially in the last decade or so. I wanted to see China once. The economic miracle that is China. Where there is money and opportunity, the country that will rule the world, the country that exports tons of stuff and the country that India should look forward to emulate. I have been only to Hong Kong (and schenzen) if you call that China. But never to the proper mainland. China is not a place that I think I might go with family. I don’t think it’s a backpacker’s delight. It has interest from me merely as a professional and not as a tourist. I would like to visit China on work not on tourism.

Every year one firm likes to call us for a jaunt. It kept selecting Bangkok as a location. The first time I sent someone from my team; the second time they wanted me but I politely told them – of all places, I am not coming to that place. I don’t intent to have Bangkok fun and I definitely don’t want to go there and get everybody to sneer at me. I have been there once before and that’s no place for me to go. So this time they came into tell me that they have noted my suggestion and this time they have selected Shanghai as the place. Shanghai…. Hmmm.. not bad. Shanghai to China is what Mumbai is to India.  An erstwhile trading port becoming the center of finance of a country. Mumbai should emulate Shanghai is what everybody says. So I accepted the invitation.

So what’s my impression? Not that I have too many impressions. Of the three and a half days, one day was spent in the plane, one and a half in a conference room and one for sightseeing and two hours of shopping. Bah!

I have  few impressions – ofcourse no one of them speak English. For a modern city of the future, not speaking English is a big no no. I think the Chinese need to correct that. That is stopping them from taking over the world completely right now. But the other view is that – the world will learn Chinese.

The other – no Facebook. Hahaha. Yes to instagram and no to facebook. But you knew that – didn’t you.

Big city – yes. Really huge, built for scale. Tons of flyovers, freeways and these are built one on top of the other. They are five highways on top of each other. At some point you look outside the window to get – a tenth floor of a building. Wow. Scale. The Chinese know what scale is. Everywhere there are flyovers trying to move the traffic. The result – traffic jams. Yup. Not as bad as let’s say Bangkok, but yes there are jams. Contrast this with the London model, where I hardly saw any flyover megaliths. The British are very clear – you want to move – here is the public transport. What’s your excuse to take the car. Mumbai following Shanghai is stupid. The model is London. Get enough of public transport and you can move cities with less pollution and greater efficiency. You can’t build enough flyovers and have enough parking. There is no such thing.

The other bit – They managed to teach the Chinese to be clean. The city is largely very clean (not Singapore) but clean enough. I think it was as clean as London or possibly cleaner. But the Chinese can shit without a smoke. Yup. They smoke like crazy. My hotel room smelt like a smoking corner everytime I entered it. And so the public loos. At the five star hotel – I entered the loo only to run out. I spoke to the manager and he apologized. He says – he spends the whole day trying to get the Chinese to smoke outside the hotel. But he can do jack about the loos. They smoke in loos all the time. In fact there is nothing anyone in China can do about it. I told him to simply install smoke detectors; and he replied that installing them would mean stopping all banqueting business. Oh dear. Every loo I visited in China was reasonably clean but the men in the loos would simply light up and have a go. You can’t just shit in the public pots in China. And with people with severe distaste for smoking like me – nothing I could do. Malls, hotels, public loos, restaurant loos, temple loos… everywhere. They simply light up and to go.

Shanghai, China – yes it a mega city. They definitely build to ego and size. Completely phallic. But I am not to judge. I did not get any more insights on poverty (not seen), hunger (ditto); some insights on religion (largely atheist), and just simply strengthened my belief in mass rapid transit. It’s a cold country for outsiders. I did not really like it. And yes – like all places – there is one shop that the guide insists you got to to shop for pearls. They have a stopover there for sure. Crap tourist commission place that mixes some education on pearls before selling you the same. Screw you. I used the time to go out and roam around. It was cold and the drink I had was some variation of a hot lemon juice. That was pretty cool.

That’s my simple China blog. Not much but enough to be sure not to include it in my places to go with Family. But yes, at least it’s off my list. This was the easiest way to get it off. I am happy.

Ah – one more thing I checked off – in the evening, opposite the place we had dinner some of the guys noticed an exotic toy shop. Hahaha. That was one hell of a shop. But they sold it with all seriousness. Some of the exhibits were displayed like a museum. Very clean and nothing sleazy about it. that was impressive. Sales girls in formal attire selling and explaining some of the stuff, very seriously. there – one more retail format visited. Now to see Walmart and Ikea.

Folding priviledge

A huge eventful event happened in Jasmine’s life. I guess she must have mulled over it for the longest. One day she tells me that she has decided to keep a servant for the morning. One hour. “She will come for one hour and help me do all the house work”. “sure. Go ahead”. I was pretty surprised and pleasantly so. Our income has obviously grown in the last ten years, enough to have one more servant at a thousand bucks a month.

When Jispa was born we were probably the only couple that did not have a full time maid. A full time maid is seen as a necessary thing when you have growing up kids. She takes care of the kid and runs behind the kid with water, food, diapers everything. That’s the objective of the maid. The kid in charge. We resisted this. Jasmine is a work horse. She likes to work. She likes doing stuff around the house and saw no real reason to have a maid. I too loved being with my child and whenever we went out I would be happy to be the tiffin box carrier. In fact when Jispa was a baby the cargo pants were in fashion and I loved them. One packet would be her food and the other would be her water bottle and so on. They were full of stuff that I needed as a daddy on the go. This do-it-yourself worked well. We only had one evening servant who came in to wash vessels and clean the floor. So I was pretty surprised when Jasmine decided to have an extra hand for an hour. I have never questioned her on the expenses of the house and frankly I haven’t a clue. She knows how much money we have and that’s that, it’s up to her to manage the household. And so we have an extra help. It’s been an interesting journey so far. Jasmine is figuring out work for the one hour that we have her. And also when the bell rang on Saturday and Sunday morning Jasmine got up cursing – ‘I will have to tell her not to come early on weekends’. Hah, I love this.

While Jasmine outsources the jobs to the new one, she tries to get eth boring jobs done. One of the boring jobs is folding the clothes after they are washed. I can vouch for the fact that it’s a might boring job to do. You sit and you surround yourself with a pile of clothes and get it done one by one. So the new lady gets to do it. With one problem – she doesn’t know how to fold clothes. Yup. I never knew there was such a thing like not knowing how to fold clothes. When I saw my t shirts, they were pretty badly folded. Not that the lady is a lazy worker. In fact to the contrary, she is a diligent and hard worker who does the cleaning job dam well. She just doesn’t know how to fold clothes. Jasmine then taught her how to fold clothes but then still, over the weekend I had to unfold my t-shirts and then fold them back again. Nicely. I like neatly folded clothes. For some reason I hate folding the clothes badly. Especially the handkerchiefs. I hate badly folded handkerchiefs. I like to join them correctly from edge to edge, the smoothen out the cloth and fold them over and over till they are nice and flat, almost ironed.

But really – it set me thinking. Why would someone not know how to fold clothes? Is it a skill we take for granted? People who have adequate clothes and adequate space to put them only know about folding them, and folding them well. With a person of meager possessions, folding clothes the right way is a big ask I assume. Poverty is a trap that is difficult to get out from. One barely understands the entire range of privileges we have. The privilege of keeping ones possessions neatly. Who would have known that to be one. My other servant also keeps her valuable stuff with us. I learnt that she had just a few suitcases as a store of her worldly possessions.

So I told Jasmine – just get her to fold the t shirts a bit more narrowly. I will manage after that. Afterall I am in Mumbai. In Mumbai there is no Space. Our cupboards are narrow, we can’t fold our clothes broad. Most of us don’t have walk in wardrobes to hand clothes and a few hangers to cling on to. Those from smaller towns will see that folding clothes right so that they are very compact is something we learnt well. They probably have the privilege not to fold clothes nice and compact. Oh dear we are so poor.

a moral compass

Religion divides more than it unites. It gives a sense of identity but at the same time it also uses the identity to group and pit one against the other. I am sick and tired of religion and culture being used as benchmarks for anything. I have learnt to abhor religion but funnily not yet abhor God. Also my belief has been to look inward and seek strength than to ask God for help. Hoping that God will somehow materialize and work his mircales is something I have learnt not to trust. Put faith in your hands and your thoughts and your deeds.

Oops – what with the sudden burst of philosophy. Well nothing really. Today I heard a podcast that spoke about the pope and how he was not too happy with this unchecked market economy of sorts.

When I was growing up I was a curious mix of a religious guy and a leftist. Poverty and hunger were essentially state subjects and could be solved by taking the money from the rich and redistributing it to the poor. Why should there be poverty. Can the state just simply redistribute it? Over the years I moved from left to a free market believer. And at the same time I moved from being a religious person to an agnostic. The transformation was complete. But at heart I remained a person still moved by problems of the world. I refused to accept the simple notion that people are poor because they have taken those choices in life. I would agree that in Mumbai city no one can really be poor and a complete destitute.  They is no reason to beg on the road. There is enough work in Mumbai for people who are ready to work hard. But that is a simplistic view. While they may be marginalized, there is no reason for letting them come out. The idea – in words of Jeffery Sachs is to give them a ladder. Then it is up to to them to climb out of it. I don’t believe in dole but I do believe in an infrastructure whether it is social or economic or even physical (roads rail etc). and these cannot be dictated by free market but by the power of common good.

I keep thinking. I don’t give money away to charity. I don’t trust any of these characters. I don’t believe in them. So what do I do. I know that I want to give my time and attention at the end ot something meaningful but I guess my form of charity is simply teaching those around me. Guiding them, talking to them and trying to build a happier planet – one person, one interaction at a time.

So, I believe in what I think the point the Pope is trying to tell. Free markets with no moral compass is a dangerous thing. where Only the fittest survive, we don’t give a chance or care a dam about the others. In the long run – it will create an oligopoly and the concentration of the haves will lord over the have nots in an unfettered sort of way.

Bah! But why is all this so important? Why am I thinking about it. I have always wondered where my moral compass has come from? I believe that a lot of it may have come from religion driven ethics and morals. I don’t think would have been a vegetarian if not for the fact that I was born in a Jain household. That’s the simplest example. So while I can have a source of morality (whatever form or manner), I wonder what happens to Jispa when she grows up. Even the Buddhists sects realized that a simple idea of Buddha understood as a thought and not a figure was tough and then migrated to an image of Him and in many ways worshipped him. Same so with Jainism. The god Mahavir verus The God Mahavir has been an undercurrent theme that I see in those around me. We deify a saint more than take home his principals. But then would I have been able to understand those teachings without the accompanying rituals. It’s a question I may never be able to answer.

But with Jispa we will know when she grows up. She knows no prayer and she knows almost no God. We have no image of him at home and we don’t pray not believe in rituals. We silently stay out of rituals that we are called for. So when she grows up she will have to have a moral compass that is her own. That is possibly from her parents and surroundings – school, peers etc. it will not be out of fear of God or for greater good in the next life. She will be what she is because she will choose it for herself.

Well it does sound good when I write it down like this. but the risk of not having a moral compass just because your parents were too anal about religion is a bit of a bummer. But yes. Jasmine and I still have faith in this approach. Be yourself. Be what you want to be not because of dogmas but because of your choices and your decisions. Let the wisdom passé don from centuries only be your reference for learning and listening. But do your own bit. And least of all – religion is meant to liberate not restrict. Liberate? – once it gives you a moral compass – you then free to do what you wish. Like I once blogged in the past. When you restrict a certain opportunity to yourself you are in effect giving yourself the freedom to do what you want to. The only question is where is that moral compass coming from and how seriously are you taking it. It is only a liberator not a restrictor. If it restricting – then throw it.

Just for the record – the Freaknomics podcast  - though I never figured that I may agree with the Pope (or least see his point of view - in some angular sort of way. though this Pope Francis seems to be an interesting character.

you can get his EVANGELII GAUDIUM here: though to make sense of it you may want to read some other sources.  http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/francesco/apost_exhortations/documents/papa-francesco_esortazione-ap_20131124_evangelii-gaudium_en.html

read here http://world.time.com/2013/11/26/pope-francis-denounces-idolatry-of-money-and-tyranny-of-capitalism/

what a load of stuff

Teens are a crazy age. Jispa is a pre-teen and these kids are possibly growing older faster than what we did at the time. I guess it’s the exposure and the fact that their parents probably talk to them much more than what our parents did. And then the parents fret that they are all grown up.

Jispa is now rapidly using her brains. Using it for good thinking and analysis but then also to rebel. She can now choose to rebel and it is going to get pretty tough on us. I remember when the first time she used her brain. That was when she was two. I clearly remember that time. She would just want to decide her pants and tops combination. She would want to wear the blue ant on an orange top and no amount of convincing would change her mind. Dam. It was crazy. How do you convince a two year old.

Now is another time. she wants to decide what to wear and when. She wants to decide and what she says is pretty much final. We don’t go shopping for her. If she isn't around Jasmine and me don’t buy anything. We get frustrated. We simply offer our humble opinion on various things. A very very difficult person to shop for. Then even after she buys it there is no guarantee that she will wear it. which is a dam interesting decision for me to make as a father. Normally I don’t push her too much on clothes. You don’t like something too much you throw it. But this time there was the sticky question of two denims that she had gotten made. Now these were made after asking her. She gave the measurements and she decided on the fit and color and wash and everything else. So we are trying our best to get her to wear her jeans. She has her favorite shorts that she keeps wearing all the time. Its shorts or tracks. So I stood up to her and told her “dude, normally I don’t get involved in all these decisions. You don’t like your jeans; ideally you shouldn't be wearing them. But if I allow you to do this then I teaching you something wrong. It’s not that we don’t have the money. Sure you can throw it. But you are responsible for your decisions. You are going to wear your jeans. They look good and as of now they look new. So I know you are going to hate me for this but – you are wearing your jeans. I would be failing as a father if I taught you to throw stuff just because we have the money to throw it” . Well obviously she is upset about the whole thing.

The other thing is that Jispa is growing taller pretty fast. Stuff that we bought six months ago is getting small. So we insist that she wears them off before we throw them. So that’s another layer. I told her – don’t worry too much about party clothes or simple clothes; just wear them off. While she was trying on the clothes for figuring the ones that fit, Jasmine and I struck on a new idea. Suppose we just don’t wash her clothes. She has enough clothes to last her three weeks. Great – now her wash cycle will be set at three weeks. I know I know. We are such mean parents. Beat that. If your fav shorts are in the laundry you probably got to wear something else.

Sorry Jispa. I know you are going to read this when you grow older but do realize you were on tough girl. Especially when we wanted to deal with you without either crushing or flaming your rebellion.

These days I try not to fight or scold her. I use the cold heat treatment. Have a strong chat with her. To dos and not to dos are clearly laid out with consequences. The flip – she hates its – she prefers the blow hot anger any day. Fights with her mother are another funny one. There is drama and action. And the inevitable – you guys don’t understand me. Yes. I was waiting for the time that ame. She is almost a teen. Every teen has the fundamental right to believe that they have been misunderstood, misjudged, mishandled, misquoted and mistaken. Jispa is reaching there. I remember feeling that all the time. I remember feeling alone and helpless. Of course today I realize that was over reacting on my side. So I try my best to not let her remain in that. Yesterday I explained to her how much we appreciate it “but you never tell me”. “oh dear, we do. Point taken- we don’t tell you enough of it but we do. And more likely right now you are in a negative state so you are likely to only remember the negative ones.” So I then work on it and explain how it’s tough but we do appreciate her a lot. We love her a lot and we do a lot for her. Not that we are asking for gratitude in return (I always hated my parents asking me to be grateful). So don’t thank us. We too enjoyed and did our duty. You dint ask for it, but you shouldn't think that we are being mean and that we don’t really care. We do. So here is our version.

I also never try and let her go without making up. And it ends to start another day.

Parenting is so bloody irritating. No matter how many mistakes you avoid, you only make fresh new ones. You constantly balance stuff. And who knew that the way to get your daughter to wear her clothes was to manage the washing loads. Shit man. This is so dam weird.

watch it

They re-released Sholay on the big screen after 38 years. It was released around a month before I was born and it’s been there in our conscience ever since. Such was the impact of the movie. To my mind and also for a million others – it was the defining movie for Indian cinema.

Growing up, I funnily never got the chance to watch it. Probably  because my parents must have watched it well before I was in my senses. But the dialogues were firmly etched in my memory. This was thanks to the songs and dialogues of Sholay cassette that we had at home. I read much later that, the film was declared a flop in its first few weeks and picked up much later. Even after the movie became a hit the records did not move. It seems the movie was so powerful that the songs never registered in the people’s psyche. Only after Polydor released the ‘Songs and dialogues version’ did the sales shoot up. Rightly so – the movie is all about the story and dialogues. There is one scene after the other full of characters mouthing one repeatable dialogue after the other. At home we used to listen to the cassette and knew the dialogues by heart.

Later on when satellite TV reached our households, I would have seen the movie in bits and pieces many times, but never together in totality. It was only much later that I bought the DVD or something and watched it end to end.

So when the news was that the movie is releasing again – I asked Jispa if she wanted to see it. She wasn’t too keen. Then I had to sell it to her. You know Gabbar is in this movie. You know Jai and Viru are also from this movie. Dialogues such as Tere naam kya hai basanti, kitne aadmi the, tera kya hogo kaaliya, chal dhanno, etc… Jispa was amazed. All this is from this movie? Yup. It’s all here. Now that it was appropriately sold, she was game for the movie. Jispa is such a twerp. She is very very irritatingly choosy on if she wants to watch a movie or not. But then….

So we went and watched the movie. It had released in the 2D and the 3D version but we went for the 2D version at Regal theatre. If you see it then you must see it on the big screen, the traditional way. And we hate the 3D specs as it gives us a headache. And I wasn’t disappointed. DVD is a poor cousin for this movie. This is great movie. After all these years and after knowing the story and the dialogues, you are still glued on. The fun bit is knowing which dialogue is going to come in and saying it just as it is being delivered. You are then a part of the movie yourself. You end up interacting with it yourself. What a movie. To my mind there are no wasted shots and movie moves forward at an amazing pace. At best one can fault the action – the scenes where the bad guys get shot and jump from their horses or pedestals..aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That seemed hackneyed by today’s standard. But the rest was good enough to keep Jispa happy. She enjoyed the movie as well.

After the movie we went home and I dug out the book I had on the making of the movie and gave it to Jispa to read. Now that you enjoyed the movie, do read how much fun it was to make.

Talking about movies – we caught an interesting movie on DVD. We saw Lootera. While it had two actors I wouldn’t care of, I figured from some interviews given that it was a different movie. I was amazed by the movie. It truly was a nice movie. It was a bit slow but a few things happened that has never happened in the history of Hindi movies. One – there are so many scenes that don’t have any dialogue and secondly – there are scenes where the actors whisper to each other. In Bollywood, there are no whispers. People shout out their secrets to each other. Nothing is understated or subtle. It’s over the top. All the time. Go see the movie – it’s different. I liked it, but yes it’s a bit extra on emotion, but it’s nice still.

here - the bonus title track of sholay. I love it. Jispa and I have been listening to it and we love the part where the strumming and the whistling takes off

I click therefore I am

There you are. My instagram feed is on the left of the blog. Blogging was a big thing at one time and then facebook came in and stole the thunder from ever one. On facebook for the most – I am a by standing voyeur. I don’t post much, don’t write much and simply like or comment on interesting stuff. It’s also an interesting place to catch other articles or videos gone viral. Then one day I heard about how facebook acquired instagram. Like a typical corporate guy – I was interested only after the economics got my attention. Once I got my instagram account – I was sold. It’s a dam cool software. With the touch to focus (the rest gets a little blurred) and a choice or predefined filters it makes photography so lovely.

I have been fiddling with it now for some time. It is pretty cool. Over a period of time I have evolved to have a style and language of my own. Many years ago V-nu and I had gone to the ardh kumb mela at Allahabad. We met a guy taking photos. We dint realize it at the time but the guy, Ben Lowy was a crazy celebrated photographer. He has been to conflict zones across the world and has been taking photos. Later on he had started his photo feed which was a series of photos that he would take from his iphone. I would always wonder how he would get the effect on the iphone. Once I started fiddling with Instagram I realized how he did it. Now I regularly follow my instagram feeds. It is a lovely liberating experience. I was always interested in photography but I found the camera very limiting. Who will carry a bulk load of equipment and worry about it all the time. V-nu would carry his equipment and then sit and change lenses etc, and I hated the whole thing. its too messy for me. Then you are always worried about equipment and worse – you stop living the moment. Once in Jaisalmer, I tried my best at capturing the perfect sunset and I realized that in that bit, I had failed to experience it. I had given up completely on photography after that. No camera for me.

The cell phone Instagram has helped me regain the photography mojo back. It’s nice to be able to click and most importantly – share your pics with people. I mainly do it when I am on vacation. I take pictures of the different experiences. I try and take unconventional ones. Interesting stories. Then I also learnt to write something interesting around it.  A picture with a context has far more to it than by itself. This too I picked up from another celebrated photojournalist that I was following. The things I have learnt is that – its ok to cheat with the phone on the picture. Cropping is ok – playing around and fiddling with the focus is ok, using filters is ok. No manually erasing stuff but everything else is par for course. These have helped me connect to people and helped people connect to me.

Very interestingly, there is this one chic from office. She sits in one of the branches and she hardly ever meets me. I would have never talked to her anything more than basic pleasantries. But she catches me on FB a lot and my photo feeds. I met her at a coffee shop the other day. I was with Jasmine and Jispa. She immediately was warm to Jasmine and wanted to meet Jispa and was warm to her as well. This is possibly the power of the media. The ability to stay connected in a new sort of way. Jasmine’s millions of cousins in the US are now connected to us and share the holidays with us. I try not to spam the feed. I try and make it relevant and interesting. After all you don’t need to know that I ate a chocolate cake yesterday and that it was YUM. I guess I use it for what I feel are more interesting interactions and my thoughts. It’s a language that’s mine and mine alone.

WE have not allowed Jispa on any social network site, but I relented on Instagram. Her feeds are private and by invitation alone and she needs permission before she posts. I was explaining to her the other day how one could look at a story while clicking a photo and how the focal blur can help in telling a story. The eye follows the focus and that the story you want to tell. We experimented with two simple coffee cups on a table to tell different stories.

This is a good skill to learn I guess. She has a camera which we bought recently 0 but that useless. She doesn’t use it at all. She uses the ipod touch for now, but her camera there is pretty much useless. I guess I may buy her a better itouch but I too worried about the kids using the itouch to be out of touch with the environment around them. So it’s a bit of a bummer. Lets see.

duniya dekh tamasha dekh

The last week we went to Aurangabad for a vacation. Now its funny to me that people were actually wondering why I would go to Aurangabad for a vacation. I wonder if it isn’t obvious that Aurangabad is the home base for Ajanta and Ellora caves. But I guess the general level of common knowledge isn’t so high as one would expect it to be. Also it is finally a tourist destination and most people I know don’t really know too much about tourism,. It just passes them by on the interest level. Goa and Bangkok is where the buck stops.

I have been to Ajanta and Ellora twice before but that doesn’t stop me from going again. I first went there as a dumb ass teen and then I went around 10 years ago when I had no clue on how to see or appreciate anything historical. So going again with Jispa aged 11 was great fun. This time around we added Daulatabad and local Aurangabad to the platter. Daulatabad is a really wild underrated fort. With its crazy defense systems it probably was built by a highly insecure king. And locally Aurangabad is home to Bibi ka Maqbara. This monument is highly highly inspired by the Taj. I realized it later that with this monument I have completed three of the monuments of similar structures and inspiration. First came the Humayun’s tomb, followed by the Taj and finally this one. Once you see all three only will you realize what is so special about the proportions of the Taj. After completing the troika of sorts I also realize that I have one important missing piece to complete the quartet – the Safdarjung tomb. The next time I am in Delhi, I am sure to make some time available to visit this place. It is also referred to by historians as the “last flicker in the lamp of Mughal architecture”.

So back to Aurangabad. Nice lovely week spent. People finish off the trip in two days but since we went for 6 nights we had a blast and could devote time to whatever we thought was interesting. At Ellora we were lucky to have this amazing guide who answered almost every query of mine on various facets of Hinduism and boy was he knowledgeable. I wonder what he was doing as a simple guide in that place. With a little bit of spit and polish he should be addressing conferences. Serious. Ten minutes into the tour and told him – you don’t bother about time and I will not bother about money. We will see everything at my own pace and we will ask you all the questions in the world. He agreed. So in the end the 90 minute tour lasted more than two and a half hour and I happily paid him double. So next time you are in Ellora, look up for Madhu at 9890632629. Guides in India seem to have really improved, from the idiot out to fleece you to the characters who really help you learn. This one was like reading a book in 3 hours. I cannot recommend him less. He is up there with the best I have been with.

We got lucky with this one. When we first reached all the guides were hired. I was very angry with Jispa as she is extremely cranky when we wake her up. She takes a lot of time to get up. So this time too we were late thanks to her. And then afterwards when we got this guide Jispa was getting cheeky an d she was like ‘ say thanks to me’. And I was – you are very very lucky today. There is really no point in seeing the place without the guide. There is nothing you can understand. It’s almost boring. You can’t make out Shiva from Vishnu in some depictions or Buddha from Mahavir. So Jispa was very lucky, as we got him while we just about turning about to come back the next day.

Jispa has really become a big kid now. Since we had a lot of time, we also went to the only mall in Aurangabad. At the Westside there Jispa picked up something she liked. She put it in her shopping basket and roamed around with me when she suddenly exclaimed ‘oh, the kiddie section is here’. “yes” I answered her. “So I picked up my t shirts from….” “The adult section” I completed her sentence. Yup Jispa has suddenly grown mentally and physically. While we can handle the size bit, Jasmine and I are learning how to cope with her mental bit. She fights differently, argues differently, get upset in a different way. The last few vacations have really seen her grow and I think now we are bonding at a different level. We are understanding each other in a way that is completely new to me.

Vacations are all about this. Growing up, exposing yourself to various things, doing new things, doing old things and more importantly knowing each other a little better. For a relatively young family like ours – possibly the greatest gift is the latter.

a clear mind is blank

After all these years of working and meeting people and problems, one leans to cope with issues and unexpected hurdles quite differently.  I now tend to maintain (at least attempt to maintain most of the time) a sense of equanimity while meeting potential issues.

There was a guy who had a stall at the local Shakari Bhandar. He was sweet guy who loved puzzles. He would try and teach how to solve puzzles. He had mastered the Rubik’s cube. As a kid I loved the puzzles as well. I would try to solve puzzles and it would be hours of fun in the vacation. He befriended me and he would give me tons of puzzles to play with. He also sold books and games and toys. So when Jispa was born we bought quite a bit of stuff from him. Once he needed to relocate to a new shop and needed money he asked Jasmine for 5 grand as a loan. I told Jasmine to happily lend him the money. This man gave me countless hours of fun. Also a lot of his puzzles were with me unreturned. In effect I had ‘stolen’ them. So don’t bother. He then ran a shop elsewhere. Jasmine and her friend were regular customers. Then one day he got a chance and immigrated to the United States. He left the shop to his man Friday to run. After making some money he instructed his man to pay back the money. The man contacted Jasmine but wouldn’t show up. One day he disappeared. We lost touch with the puzzle man and all.

On Sunday out of the blue he contacted Jasmine. He wanted to meet Jasmine and her friend. Both of them were a little circumspect. More money perhaps? What we do, how do we tell no… I drove them there. A little thought ran into my head – why think the worst. Its ok. lets meet. Possibly he is just meeting because he  has come back. I still love the guy and I think he is a great guy. I told them don’t worry. If an awkward thing crops up – you can always revert later. You need not answer then and there. Jasmine came back after the meeting. ”You know why he wanted to meet us? He brought gifts and puzzles for us and he immediately wanted to return the 5 grand”. Well well well what do you know.

That’s what I told Jasmine. It was in my mind but I didn’t tell you guys. Sometimes you go out and meet with a blank face and mind. You take it as it comes. Earlier on I would worry – what’s the issue – why does he want to meet – why is he calling – what would I say – how should I talk. Etc etc. now I meet in a far more stable state. You don’t know anything. You should keep two three back up plans that this is my worst case and then meet without a real plan. Everyone deserves a meeting, a chance.

I have met so many people and been through so many situations. Jasmine told me that she too will learn. I said nopes. I learnt a lot of this from you. Jasmine would normally meet without thinking too much about the consequences. She was the one who taught me equanimity. No Jasmine – I learnt this form you. Mil lo. Don’t think too much. Ah things happen.

So that was an interesting lesson. You meet anything that comes your way and you have a backup plan. That’s about it I guess. You can’t predict the world but you surely can manage your space in it without too much thinking. Clarity of thought also means thinking less. Aila – that was high philosophy. I surprise myself at times.

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!