so much for womens liberation

As I said earlier that dropping Jispa everyday in the taxi is great fun. This is probably the only time that she and me get to talk. She normally acts dam funny when we ask about her school. Especially when Jasmine is there. She hardly ever tells. She hates to tell what happened, what she learned, what she is doing. But in the taxi early in the morning she now talks to me on what she is doing in school, what her teacher says and what the class is doing. It’s a five – seven minute ride so it’s only the highlight package that I get to hear. But then that’s enough I guess.

Right now she learns concepts in school. She is learning the concept of aeroplane. One of these days she has to go to school dressed up as an airhostess. That was fine. But then she told me that she and some girls are going to be the airhostesses and some of the boys will be the pilots. Now that got me a little irked. Why would the bloody school be reinforcing the stereotype? So I told her that girls can be pilots and the guys can also be ‘air hostesses’. They are called stewards. so I told her that she could be the pilot if she wanted to. She did not take that kindly. She told me that she wanted to be an airhostess. It was more fun giving out ‘khotta’ (fake) food. But I said you should be what you want to be. You could be a pilot or an air hostess. Be what you want. In some planes that I traveled in the men were serving and the women were flying. She firmly told me – ‘It is more funny being and AIR HOSTESS’ …ok ok princess… fine… so much for breaking stereotypes. Screw you ... do what you want… and when you grow up read this and enjoy!

Now to diligently set out time everyday to write the travelogue. Lets see, I must wrtite it before I forget too much. I wrote a lot of notes but still fresh is fresh.

My desk has also grown its greeting card collection. Now to make it stable is a fresh challenge.

quality time; at 4 am?

No I am not lost, no the kumbh did not kill me and no I did not find my long lost brother / twin/ triplet. Oh I’m Alive……

Wow. Any place which lakhs of people believe in becomes holy purely by the power of faith. The Ardh Kumbh experience was brilliant and to twist what most travelers say about India - everything you heard about the Kumbh is true and the opposite is true as well. I have made notes and I hope to write a small travelogue on the entire experience. So I am not writing too much now. Watch this space for an ill written travelogue.

One thing is there – I definitely got home sick. Too much for a three day trip I guess, but what to do. I miss my family a good deal. And they went and saw Happy Feet without me. That too in the dome theatre. Jispa was telling me about it in the taxi ride to her bus stop.
Dropping her to the bus stop is 15 minutes o quality time. Nice thing it is, talking to her about random things. Today was a nice cool day. So waiting at the bus stop she was feeling cool, and that’s a good thing, cause that’s when she wants to cuddle up. So today I did what my dad used to do. I rubbed my hands hard together making them warm and then warming her hands, legs and face. Very very cool. Her friend Aanya also enjoyed the whole thing. Then she tried to rub her hands together and tried to warm me. Full TP.

One more incident. My wife actually was drying the clothes at 4 am. Don’t ask me why. please ask her.

hindu electricity

Kumb mela is the stuff of legends. Hindu movie legends that is, the place where you lose your brothers. So I guess every time my brother gets on my nerve its time to visit the Kumbh mela. I might just be able to lose him once and for all. Oh the joy of separation for 14 long years. The joy of meeting him after 14 years, the joy of saying hey 14 years were fun , hope you had a hard time!. Heheheheheh. I can really get sadist I guess. But I have no doubts that as kids my elder bro would have loved to do the Kumbh on me :) Hmmmm. I have booked and packed my bags for the Ardh Kumbh this year to Allahabad. I am leaving on Thursday and will be there for just three days, catching the big dip on the 14th, which is the makar sankranti dip. Supposedly a hugely cleansing dip. Uggh, the only part of my body that is going to wash away the sins I guess is my big toe. I guess it needs the cleansing as it has sinned many times by kicking people’s butt. But more importantly, I am soo dying to see the multitude of people, our ‘holy’ men, the aura, the atmosphere. Any one who has seen the aarti at the ganga banks in Varanasi and Haridwar will testify that the whole ritual, the spectacle, the energy building up for the climax is just extremely exciting. The build up is nothing short of spectacular. The people waiting, the Pujari with confident attitude, knowing he is the hero of the show, and there are millions watching, praying; looking at him and believing him to be a messenger to the Gods. The murmur before it starts and the cacophony at Haridwar where bells go off all over the place, wooden paddles banging the brass plates, people singing, and the jai gange maataa aarti blaring over the loudspeakers. And not to forget the really large aarti diyas, with the helper constantly pouring cool Ganga water on the pujari’s hand, lest the heat scald him. Oh wow… man I soo love it. There is something to the place. I dunno if it is in any way holy, but the faith of millions together believing it to be holy makes it so. Five thousand people together (at least) praying, lighting diyas, believeing, singing, anticipating…. That itself makes for electricity. The place also makes for lovely photography and moods. I hope to catch some part of the Kumbh in similar light as well. Hope, these are not dashed. Badi aarzo liye jaa raha hun.


this photo is of Haridwar ghat where there are all bathing before the aarti begins. this is just one part of the crowd this next one is of the aarti in full progress with the large aartis. this is the main idol aarti.
Now this one you will see tons of diyas all over the place. again this is only a part of the jumboree. Notice the camera phone in the picture trying to take a video of the aarti. I just love the opposites reconciling in the picture.

application application application

“It is not enough to have good intelligence” Descartes wrote: “the principal thing is to apply it well”. Bang on insight.

Good intelligence will help you get great hindsight. One would be able to deconstruct the entire situation, explain what went wrong, how could it have been better. Great for teachers and researchers and the general fartists. Don’t get me wrong I think its great, intellectual masturbation is probably a great thing. I do it all the time. It makes you look very very smart in front of others, but also do get me right, its important to differentiate masturbation from the actual thingie. You can’t substitute or subsist on it alone. Great analysis alone need not lead to great work.
Application of intelligence leads to foresight. The ability to learn from mistakes in a way so as to not repeat them is what makes the cut. Every one makes mistakes, the stupid ones make them twice and the real bad idiots make them three times. One is excusable, two is food for thought and three is – ‘shoot the bastard’. Foresight is what will take you places, and that only come by consistent application and constant learning. It comes not just by reading tons of books but by applying some of that logic somewhere.

Afterword: the more I read Gandhi, the more I love his philosophy, parts of it of course. Hmmm… interesting to see how it shapes up and how one is able to apply it in real life situations.

faltu stress

Examinations are a pain. I still get night mares about not being adequately prepared for the school and college exams. I get remind my self that I am old enough and have passed the exams. But that does not stop them from coming back. I sometimes wonder the kind of stress kids get put under to perform at the exams. Post the exam results the blame will solely be in the kid, but the hell was the parent doing in the first place? I guess parents must take around 50% of the credit of the marks that the kids get and by that logic take 50% of the blame. So next time a kid gets punishment for bad exam performance, the parent must be made to endure 50% of the same. What say?
Speaking of exams, I just felt like I gave one the other day. Jispa’s school admission was on in a prestigious school in BKC. While Jispa was taken in for her test (some kind of play way thing) we were given questions to answer. Man I felt that after a long time I was being put to the test. And I had to handwrite couple of answers after a real looong time. That too, with no spell-check and neat and clean writing. Boss…. Was it stressful? My fingers felt the stress in just about 10 lines. Heheheh. I am so used to typing as opposed to writing anything long… some day I think I will just forget how to write long sentences at all. But it was good fun given the answers. The vast number of books came to my rescue. I was not so surprised to remember some key points from readings and adapt them for the answers. Felt good. Now lets see, either I get thru because the answers seem so smart or I get rejected out right for getting farty. Nothing in between.

Many times in a queue for the bus I wonder how many does it take to break a queue and breakout of anarchy. Many times just one. And all suffer from the resultant anarchy. The discipline of being in a line irrespective of one odd person breaking it will result in all benefiting. Hmmm. Everybody thinks let me benefit first by getting in early, a little early mind you, and everybody suffers. And stepping into a crowded double-decker bus is easier said than done. Only those in mumbai know what a pain it can get as the step is too high and there is almost nothing to hold on to except at the edges.

Sleep well

Jispa has been sleeping alone for around a month now. Ever since we shifted into the new house. Many times I tuck her in. The other day while I was putting her to sleep she asked “why am I sleeping alone?” oops… difficult question…. “because I am four years old, and I will become five years old?” … hmmm.. Should I answer yes? But then a stroke of inspiration. “Who says you are sleeping alone” I point to her teddy bear by her side. “These are also with you” I say pointing to the ten terracotta ganapatys’ by her bed side. I like to call it her terracotta army. Hmm. She smiles as she points to some thing. “Yes and of course there is Bob the Builder as well” I say looking at the figurine overlooking her bed. Very nice. She continues her dazzling smile and closes her eyes. Another score for fatherhood.

I really miss her sleeping with me. The soft cuddly of girl all contracted in the frog pose as she feels cold. When I hug her while she is asleep “Papa” she says “if you hug me I can’t sleeeep!”. Bum..If I don’t hug you I can’t sleep. But then I just put a blanket on her and she straightens up and sleeps. Only to throw it all away – actually kick it and sleep again in the frog pose. Finally when in morning she is 30% awake will she come in and sleep in a hug. Sigh. I would like to freeze time.

melody khau khud jaan jao

The first blog of the New Year must be funny…. Says who?..... Arree…The first thing you do / write in the New Year will set the tone for the rest of the year….. Ya? Is that so? ….. Of course. That’s why we party into the New Year and have tons of fun hoping we carry it all into the year? …..Hmmm. but don’t we mostly get drunk at these parties and embrace strangers and profess false love?...... Arree. but we also spend the part with people with love…… Hmmm. Is that so? ……Yes of course, that’s why the new year is so important and the first things we do set the tone. Haven’t you heard, well begun is half done?.......... Acha, so then I am basically screwed…… Why? What happened? ……Well nothing. Bhagum bhag is the first movie I saw this year. aaaggggghhhhhh…… Oh god man you are screwed. Kuch nazar wazar utarna tera. Teri toh band hai. full shot picture hai woh….. I know. Tell me about it. I spent 350 bucks on it! if that is truly the tone of the movies to come then I am done for. This is one of the rare comic movies that I have not even laughed once at. Even a movie like No Entry I remember laughing around twice. But this one drew a zilch. Kya shitall movie tha… man. tu sach bolta hai… merit toh abhi pure saal ki waat hai. I will have to atone for this sin.

Acha ek baat bol… bol… yeh subah subah people scene rocks yaar…. As in? … I have never understood one thing…. What? … in the morning the guys who are all dressed up in formals and saris etc are literally running…. And? .... the guys who are all dressed up with sneakers and shorts are the ones ambling along? Aisa kyun?... hmmmm. Bindu. .. Bindu?... as in point, man….haan, toh yeh opposites reconcile wala maamla hua nah?... Chandra maa bindu… Chandra maa bindu?... as in good point, man…. aaagh, saaad joke yaar but still better than the movie… toh kya? Maarte rahun kya?.... main tere ko maaru. That will be the perfect start to the year… hmmm. But two questions…. Haan puch?.... (1) Can a man actually hit his alter ego? (2) melody itni choclatey kaise bani….

stress busters are so silly

How does one maintain a consistent mood, average or thought process through out the day, day in and day out, month after month, year after year? It is so bloody painful. Some times a series of shit happens and one is left feeling sad and down. Its increasing difficult to avoid the swings but thank fully its not as bad as it sounds. In negative swings I would typically be a little more circumspect and a little withdrawn. I also bounce back by doing things that give me pleasure and good news. So my worry is not the bounce but the questions that can one have a consistent behavior. Can I somehow convince myself to keep a steady mood and not be swung by the temporary emotions? How does one achieve this steady state? And this steady state has to be true to the inners of oneself else or else maintaining a state that is not consistent inwards and outwards would only mean more and more stress. Stress is something I seek to consistently avoid and skip. Not that life will not throw you stress. Stress is in its management. I learnt over millions of years to manage it better, handle it better, slide it off better. But sometimes it just becomes a little difficult. I think most of the difficulty will come from uncertainty. Not being sure, or being in dilemma’s is what causes the severity. I have learnt to handle shit, but am still learning to handle the undertainity. Slowly but surely it getting better. That’s why I am not so bothered by its depth but more by its mere presence. Sometimes the stress is accentuated by recognizing it as thus and therefore creating more of it by worrying more about it. Crazy but true. Not recognizing leads to more stress, recognizing leads to more stress. Only finally achieving solutions relieves it.
The biggest toll is actually eustress. The good stress that you have before a match. The stress that pushes you to perform. Today most of the stress is eustress.the tsress that you seemingly want to take as it improves your performance, keeps you on your toes and is essential. In times of plenty as I see now we are in, the biggest killer will be eustress. By itself in isolation it might be good, but the ability to manage many isolated instances of eustress might be something of a problem. How many flanks can you open? In bad times you close all and focus on the big problem. In really bad times lot more bad flanks open but can be many a times traced to one underlying problem. In times of plenty many such good stress points get created, thus the ability to multi manage these and create cohesive driving force is tested. While it might not be as gloomy as it sounds but there is a warning there. I will learn, you will learn, we all learn someday. It’s the bloody interim that is difficult to control and manage. I think the key solution is to first reduce the intensity.

As I write I was talking to a friend whose nick is goripari. translated as white fairy. So generally was chatting about some work and I got inspired by her name and I wrote the silly poem for her….

Tell me oh white fairy
Which way is the dairy
Do we drink to our health
Or wait for our wealth
Any way the ganga flows
Taking water from the snows
Cleaning sins as it must
Creating boons from busts
What to do, how to live
Live we must, drink we must
Are the answers in the dairy
Tell me oh white fairy….

I must thank her for this … it suddenly put me in a rocking mood. Made me feel all nice and charged up. A little creativity goes a long way… even if it does not make any sense.

blind man's buff and father powers

I was at the international airport dropping off a cousin. I dropped them at the departure and went down to park the car. Now if you want to travel in lifts in mumbai airport then you better be blind. No no, there is nothing obscene about it but only the fact that all the numerals on the lift buttons have been erased. The only thing that’s left is the braille dots on the buttons. So what do you do? I guess Braille is pretty useless if you can see it ( you know what I mean). So the next smart things I to look real closely and press the button that’s worn out the most and hope in hell that that’s the right one and the right floor. Come to think of it from the car park I would not know what level is the departure area. So even if the buttons were there, I would still press the most used button to get to the right area. A-ha…. The power of the wisdom of crowds. Elementary Watson!

Also another thing I love doing is carrying around my daughter on my shoulders. It’s good fun. But also what amazes me is that how a father does not get so tired carrying his daughter. I like to carry her long distances this way. I was quite surprised that we went to Palitana, which is some few thousand steps up and then down. I carried her on my shoulders around 85% of the way. Without really getting tired. I sure it’s the mind thing. I also remember walking up and down and all around Matheran with her on me. Being a father is so wonderful in many ways and this tireless energy is just one of them. At the same time she can get soo tiresome :) this is how father hood reconciles opposites.

This is when not only her but also her friend decided that i was the beast of burden.

Also they figured that blinding me would be good thing to do.

christmas fun

Little things go a long way…. Office must be a fun place. We spend more time here than home. I have always believed that one should be able to do a lot more things to make the place livelier. What’s the point of being in a drab bloody place? Life is colorful. Everything must be colorful. What say? And if we in marketing, being the so called whacked ones can’t live up than might as well be in accounting. Sorry for the barb but I think the most boring people are in audit, accounts and administration. These guys take themselves and their jobs sooo seriously, it just worth the effort to ruffle a few feathers here and there. The key is to know a few skeletons that are likely to be in his closet as well know the rules very well. Becoz the guys so live by the rules if anything is slightly off it or beyond it, they are most likely to get confused. So I really enjoy riling them. Faltu kiddas I have on this. This is our Christmas celebrations in office. Its nice to get all the team together to celebrate Christmas. Its nice to have a Christmas tree, but its infinitely nicer to get them all to put it up together. KEY WORD HERE >> TOGETHER. Lots of offices have Christmas trees, but our team has one they all can be proud of. After all (from my earlier blog) “Pride matters more than money”.

letter to you.

Hey jippy. Some day you would read this blog and wonder, mera baap pagal tha. If he had to write something personal why did he choose something so open like a blog to write it. the point is that you are right. Teara baap pagal hai. ai!
I like the concept of open book. To tell a lot to a lot of people. I like to be more open than closed. I like more and more people to be aware of things in my brain and in my heart. The more people see what’s in the more they hopefully learn at my expense. Well its my bit of contribution to ‘world peace’. Ya sure. Well I duno. I just hope that some one some where is getting some little pleasure reading my blog. Sometimes reading even simple personal letters to you my dear. I love the relationship I have with you and I would love the world to know of it as well. And its not that the bloody blog has amassive readership in any case. I am not sure how many people you will meet in your life, that have read this blog. I certainly don’t think the number would be material. But the benefits of a public blog may be many. For one, since I know some friends read this as well, I try to have a little variety. Some random articles, some funny one, and some faltu fart (philosophy). And I sure hope you don’t grow up to be a pain and wonder what an ass of a baap you had, who told the world of the small silly, potentially embarrassing things that you did as a kid. Yaar, I think it’s kinda cute. But sorry if you feel bad about it. The risk is worth taking as I write. The flip side – no blog. And yes I sure sure hope that you find the blog some where worth your while. Full tragedy if you hate it. Even if you do, let me know fast enough. I hope to be writing this well into the future.
Hehehehe. And what else. I hope all is fine with you. Hopefully I am not dead by the time you are reading age for this. But then life is tough. Grind hard and dig hard. No body has it easy. Don’t take solace in other people’s miseries. Learn to have an internal locus of control. Take all what you can on your chest. Take blows and fight on. Don’t make the same error twice and use EVERY opportunity to learn. Every body , every thing teaches. Be smart. And above all – be nice.
I have been reading Satyagraha in South Africa. I cannot explain how bloody profound and brilliant Stayagraha is. The difficulty is in its simplicity. So simple and yet so bloddy difficult. I am trying to use some of its principles somewhere. Some blogs in the future would have some reference to it. Simply put – the truth shall set you free. FREE. What an outstanding feeling. The freedom glow from being above it all, the freedom glow of knowing more. The freedom glow of inner peace. The freedom glow.
Jyada ho gaya nah! Thoda tone down karna chaiye tha. But whattodo? Fart is also free!

principles

defination of principle - ethical standard: a standard of moral or ethical decision-making

Principles are cast in stone? Every person would have a certain set of principles. In fact not having principles is a principal in itself. I normally pride my self in having a set of reasonably set of strong principles. Normally they are not for compromise. Recently one got troubled and I almost moved. Then the moment of truth and back to normal. The moment of truth is one of the most exciting things to happen to someone. It proves faith in the system. The internal system that beats in and out all day long. It defines you. Its always nice to see that the system is tested and strengthened. If it is not tested it will become weak. Thank you wife, thank you god, thank you all. My system works and it’s not for sale. So screw you if you want to buy it. I decide and I stick by it!
That felt good. I don’t feel like writing anymore. This is too much for today. In fact this will stand for a looong time to come.

Jispa Art Mural

Jispa painted her first mural! I always wanted to paint on the walls. So the first thing I did when I got my own walls was allow Jispa to paint on it. I had a Saturday morning free with her and me alone. So we decided to have some fun. She got so excited when I let her know that she could paint a wall on her own. She was like “No sheet? hehehe”. Guess that’s what kids want. Just to do something that was till sometime anathema. So she freaked out on the paintings. In hindsight it looks quite cool. I guess we will do the entire wall and then the entire house. Full on!

See the pic below and see if you can decipher what my kid is painting. Look thru her eyes. Answers below.

1. A building with doors and a hole to see who is at the door. The zig zags are the steps.
2. Simple one – butterfly
3. hahaha bet you did not get this one – crayon
4. Boat
5. Another impossible one, clue lies in the color – grass (with a black outline)
6. Excellent remark – akin to the one her teacher makes on her books.
7. TV
8. Life cycle of a plant – the top of the plant is chopped off by the photo
9. Life cycle of a butterfly. Notice the caterpillar and pupae.
10. Boy in a fighting picture?!!??
11. Six point star.

Any one with a Freudian mind bent wanting to synthesis the same and give me clues on what she is likely to grow up into?

Nirvanic walks

Huffff… yesterday I was a bit later than usual coming into office. As I hit the bus stop I realized that I had only 100 rupee notes and no small change. wuu, whoz gonna argue with the conductor for a 5 re ticket. And listen to gaalis early in the morning… so I thought why not. Let’s walk. I used to walk into office two years back. I stopped when the winter ended. Yes yes… I know it’s just a notional winter in mumbai. It’s never really cold. But atleast you can manage to get to office without having a sweaty wet stinky shirt. I normally walk faster than most but yesterday I decided to slow my pace down a bit. A fair bit actually. I tried noticing the people, structures and other paraphernalia around. It’s interesting to see how people, a majority of them walk and run to office with their eyes looking down. With the city pavements you are always avoiding a hole here, a sewage there, a dog etc. And not to mention plenty and plenty of feet. So every one is walking with eyes down. I don’t even think beside the conversationalists anyone even looks at the heritage buildings. We fret and fume and spend so much agony over whats happening to our heritage. But the guys who work there everyday don’t even care a dam. I think the simpeast way to make people concerned about the heritage is to make them notice it. and the opnly way to make them notice is to get their eyes off the floor. The only way to get their eyes off the floor is to ensure smooth and predictable pathways. This way they walk with their eyes up and see around them. This way more men and women notice each other. The more they like each other, the more hey fall in love, and pronto… World Peace. Ok ok ok…you can’t get rid of Saddam by better pavements… but you sure can ensure beautiful facades. I don’t mind Iraq war as long as I can get a prettier surrounding that I can look at. What say?
Also slowing down walking is almost a nirvanic exercise by itself. You actually need to control your walk steps, breathe a bit, and relax. The world just seems different if you are slower than your normal. Try another stress buster. In the mad rush, just simply follow all traffic rules a s a pedestrian. Cross only at zebra crossings; walk only on pavements, cross only when the green man smiles at you. It is actually a big self control not to walk ahead when the teeming mass behind you is inching forward with a nervous pregnant energy, conquering space and redefining the road available for the car. But resist this force, and feel the energy flowing through. Wait on the footpath and start your cross of the chasm only when the signal turns and you will realize one outstanding fact as you are triumphantly crossing. The pedestrian crossing signal does not give you enough time to cross the road. It is built to discount the fact that you are already half way across. And you suddenly realize you only half way there when the green man disappears and the red man motions you to stop. You swivel right, all the share taxis that run amuck in the morning are aiming for you and you bloody run like mad across the 30% that is left, trying you best to look down so that you don’t trip, look up so that you don’t hit the opposite guy crossing and then building up into an almost flying trapeze jump across the gutter that is always placed at the corner and landing in the arms of the lady who is busy talking on her cell while getting to office (eyes down of course). She gives you the loveliest ugly stare and mental swear you could get in the morning. aha ha… what a nice day….nirvanic exercise was never so touching.

run buddy run, then eat

They all run... they allways do..

Jaagte rahooooooo….. all the old independence era movies would show the ubiquitous watchman trying to do his duty with his nightly calls. I guess today there is a slight variation. It has to be bhaagte rahoooo…. Only for a mega metro like mumbai will a obscure number like 738 make a significant amount of impact, in fact this number is not prayed to will ensure a late entry to office, a missed movie starting climax, a late date, and a possible firing. Many have their own numbers which they live by 642, 827, 956. some of us even have made the code more complex by making it alpha numerical, such as 926 BO, 745 C or 648 P. hmmm. The plot thickens. Because many times the 743 CST is followed by the 1 SPL or is preceded by the 142 or of course the alpha numerical 6 LTD. So the entire sequence is 730 5 LTD 755 CST 1 SPL. A complex piece of action orchestrated with clock work precision.

For the dim witted or the plain sleepy towners who haven’t caught it yet the code (730 5 LTD 755 CST 1 SPL) is broken as:- leave home at 7.30 am to catch the 5 limited bus to get down at the train station to catch the 7.55 Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus local to catch the 1 Special that takes them to Nariman Point. As I said Bhaagte Rahooooooooooooooo.
This two decimal point precision is further fine tuned if you catch the bloody train at CST station. Since the trains start there they have installed huge digital clocks that even show the seconds, so as you enter the station you know that you have exactly 36 seconds left to catch you train, or exactly 48 seconds to run to your compartment and find a place to rest your butt (not park it – seating is not that easy with 48 seconds left). You also know that you have potentially 55 seconds left if you want a plastic vacuum packed bag of peanuts. How? Well 48 seconds for the train to leave and another 7 seconds the boy take borrow as he can jump while the train is just about to leave the platform. Ooohhh. We live the razor’s edge… cool nah! Now all that I want to see is the train timetable showing the train leaving at 6.46.38 am.

While on the peanuts I have always wondered on the way the vendors pack the peanuts that are sold at the station. The nuts are naked and packed in plastic packets that seem to have air sucked out of them. Since we assume that this is not a multi million rupee investment on the plant and that the Nehruvian dream of small scale sector is at full play the only option is….. the guy rubs the dry peanuts with his palm, blows the husk away with the air from his mouth. Then blows inside the plastic to open it, puts the nuts inside and then seals it with the heating element. Now how does he achieve the vacuum? Hmm, the only way is by sucking the air manually before sealing it completely. We are not even on the topic of does the bloody thing gets dry in the first place. Also while on the topic it is interesting to note that thanks to the advent of AIDS, we have a lot of cases of TB among the lower strata of society. This TB is getting worse and s getting increasingly resistant to treatment. So much for a blow by blow account! Pretty cool, nah, how the promise of a 2 rupee peanut snack is so beautifully played out. YA.. Anybody hungry for a snack?

Eat India from delhi to bombay

Trains… lovely thing they are. I always like them and I loved traveling by them. But I guess the demand on time are soo much that I rarely use them these days. Flights are it. flights are so impersonal compared to trains, so bad and ugly. There is some romance left in trains, though I don’t get to see many PYT’s in trains at all.
I went to Delhi in a flight but I came back in train. What a smart decision. The Rajdhani is an awesome experience. They keep feeding you through out the journey. Starting with water, snacks, soups (yes sir with butter and bread sticks) and dinner, with sweet dahi and ice cream. And next day breakfast. Move over cricket, its eating that’s India’s number one entertainer. I could just see all the guys in the trains getting surprised at the platter and entertained purely on the eating. The gastronomical delights score over voyeuristic or even patriotic delights. I am convinced India is born to eat. The clarion call of today’s age is Eat India! Notice how when you go on a date you normally go to eat, when you go with family you eat, when you go to the movie you eat, when you play cricket you eat, when someone dies you eat, when someone marries you eat, on corporate meetings offsites, anything we eat. All this talk about eating is making me feel hungry now. EAT EAT EAT EAT. It is not by sheer co incidence that the longest running TV show in India is, yes sir, Khana Khazana.
Hmmm coming back to the train journey… its nice not to have too much crowd to interact with. I finished a lovely book start to end. It was ‘the making of Sholay – by Anupama Chopra.’ I always liked her writing before. She writes well and the book was a delightful easy read with lots of interesting trivia thrown. A must read for Sholay fans. Aren’t we all… very nice. I read in one flat 4 hour session. I don’t think I have ever read a book start to end without putting it down. This is the first one… I even was laughing in parts. I had to control or risk the train guys thinking me to be mad. Good fun. I suddenly rediscovered train journeys. Will have to somehow figure them in my vacations again. Forced long quality time with Jispa should be quite nice. Only thing is that I used to prefer non a/c, but given the bad hygiene in trains and family, I prefer the A/c. Its far more stress free. Non a/c can get to you at times I guess. I guess, life grows on you. I would want Jispa to back pack on non a/c but I guess it’s ok either ways. The principle being that don’t complain on the heat, dust, pollution, dirt etc. I have been thru much more in my life and I would want her to go thru a lot of it as well. But who knows when she grows up what will happen. I definitely don’t prefer a soft pink chick. But then that’s a dad’s point of view today. When she grows up I might just as well give her money to fly all over. Funny thing this parenting is. Kuch long term plan hi nahin karneka… full ulta ho jayega.

marry more, whack more

Been away for a couple of days and already got mail on why is the blog not being updated. Accha boost hai to my blog… thank you. Keep pushing, dear friends, I really love you guys.
Haan, toh I had been to Delhi to attend a friends wedding. It was a nice good punju wedding held on the open lawns. But man was it cold. Luckily I reached at 3 pm; and I was feeling really cold. It just scared me enough to buy one wool sweater as reinforcement for the evening. Yet I was freezing … next to the fireplace! The fireplace sittings can get interesting as your front feels nice and warm and your butt is frozen solid. So then you turn around and get what you always wanted in life – a really hot ass. And punju weddings get over at 2.45 in the morning. So it’s nice to enjoy the cold. The only thing that got me warm was when we wanted to wring the bloody shoes off the dhula. Let me tell you the entire story. The dhula’s shoes are always on great demand so he exchanged them with his best man. so after the ceremony the ladies wanted to get hold of them. So I simply suggested that they lanch a physical attack. So I got the guy, put him on the floor and well…. attacked. In the mayhem some other best men came to rescue which were effectively warded off by the women tickling. More best men came. In the free for all, the women started attacking me as I was attacking the shoes that they were also attacking, with them thinking that I was protecting what I was actually attacking… whew… so they were tickling me like crazy, but one slight problem… I don’t get tickled. So all I got was very very aggressive pokes. So after clearing the confusion I went about the task of getting the bloody shoes off… wow... wedding scan be fun. A good place to release all the frustration of traveling in crowded trains and office work. Just go to a few weddings and then whack the shit out of people either getting the shoes or protecting them. WOWIE>>> weddings are fun. No wonder I advise all my friends to get married fast. In fact if I enjoy this too much I will ask to get married more often!!!
And also I have no clue why they deck the bride so much. She looks lovely without the entire getup, then why the hell do they mess around, sooooo much. Well she still managed to look pretty inspite of it all and definitely not because it. So when she asked me how she looked. I gave her – you look pretty. But then that was the truth. The whole truth was – you look pretty, but you look prettier without the getup… but it was nice to see her get married. Always a cute thing to see girlfriends getting married.
And I rediscovered the joys of train travel…. More on that to follow...

Jintan and love for the morning

I found Jintan. Any one familiar with the pill? While shifting houses, akin to the ocean churn, one of the things thrown up was a sealed Jintan pack I had bought god knows when. It was good fun. Jintan was my dada’s favorite pocket mouth freshner. It was his standard remedy for me. I was never a great morning starter when I was a kid. I used to get morning sickness. Simply put early morning start on vacations in a car used to bring out the breakfast in me. So in go two Jintan’s in the hope of retaining breakfast (futile) and then in go two Jintan’s to feel better once the breakfast (usually milk) is bubbled out. So the taste of Jintan does remind me of the fond memories of travel with family. Feel funny in the morning, the memory of sticking your head outside the car and feeling the crisp morning air, keeping mouth open to dry, and the typical smell of Indian dhul – mitti. I like that. Its funny how despite being such a bad morning kid I still love and have lovely memories of the morning. I guess it’s because unlike my bro/sis who were busy sleeping and me busy puking. So in hindsight I guess puking was better to sleeping blissfully unaware of mornings, unaware of sunrise, unaware or nip, unaware of haze, unaware of beauty. I have remained a morning person since. I love sunrise, I love leaving before dawn and driving out to catch the sunrise. I guess in hindsight its no wonder I wake up early and am in office by 8.30. One hour before the din arrives. Also with the new house with lots of open spaces around I get to catch the sunrise while driving out (winter I guess). It’s lovely. I love it.
As my father in law like to say - "warning, dont miss the morning".

here is the view every morning as we drive westward.

compassion

While we get to see a lot of pretense we rarely get to see any amount of genuine compassion. We will see a lot of passion or I would like to call it misplaced aggression, but compassion is in short supply. I am always moved by acts of compassion but to incorporate genuine compassion is so difficult. It’s sometimes so funny to see a lot of people get so moved by dead cows, dead kitten and dead dogs etc on the road but would have no qualms eating it…. hahaha its so bloody funny. Compassion my ass….
No, don’t get me wrong here. I am nowhere near compassion as I would like to be. Or would dream to be. I guess many times I like the laws of nature to take their own course. I try not to interfere with it. Let not compassion interfere in what nature has held out. But ya, I try and help if I can. But to actually understand what compassion means is to meet two of the finest individuals god has produced. One – Prem Sundar Narayan, two Rajesh Shadevan. It is thanks to sheer luck that I have come in contact with these gentlemen. These two by sheer force of their nature have changed me in more ways than one. Their ability to touch, heal, change the very people they meet. Their ability to ---I don’t know how to put this ---- subjugate themselves and yet retain themselves is outstanding. Their greatness in their ability to rise without meaning to, or even wanting to. It is by no mean a co incidence that they the best – the very best – brand strategists I know of. For, to understand the brand one has to understand the consumer, and to understand the consumer it is important to have genuine compassion for him and genuine empathy. Only if you are able to feel genuinely will you make a great brand promise and great brand delivery. Which bloody B school / prof will explain compassion as a prerequisite for strategy? Only compassion will let you see beyond your own mind shit and your own preconceived notions of what the consumer wants, needs or feels. So much time is spent by kids trying to figure out brand strategy with a lot of shit and shat thrown in, but people doesn’t realize to be a great brand strategist one needs to be an outstanding human being. Care must be your core virtue for it to translate outward. CARE CONCERN AND COMPASSION. It’s no wonder we find worms and acid in things we eat. It no wonder people are increasingly fickle and disloyal about brand choice. We won’t dare change a doctor / nurse / teacher who is caring, then why would we change a cosmetic, soap, a gel, a food, a drink. We need more Gandhi’s in marketing, and we need more of them in strategy. Sometimes selfish goals can only be achieved by true selflessness. Opposites do reconcile.

hero again

I have written about the hero’s journey before…. I find it so fascinating. I see kids growing up, I see my office colleagues growing up, I see my kid growing up and I see myself growing up. They were just a blur of growth till I understood (in a little way) the journey of the hero. Instead of a blur it seems to be a series of steps leading up the path. Each step small or big shapes up and moulds us. Many of these steps are in the form of success and failures and many more are just break outs of independence or dependence (marrying for one). I have learnt to love to watch these steps in my life. It seems so lovely to see these steps leading to somewhere. The milestones getting planted in the psyche of journey. If viewed as such they seem so much fun. They give to me at least a lovely philosophical angle that makes me smile, that makes me resilient, that makes me believe in myself as a hero. The hero of the journey that I have to complete. It is so like the fantastical tale where the hero overcomes many odds to win the princess. Which reminds me of the story I once wrote for the college magazine. The story was a very simple fantasy tale with witches and dungeons thrown in. nothing separated the story form the Hans Christian Anderson tales Except for the ending. Here the hero in his last swish of the sword is about to slay the evil witch and chooses to forgive. I forget what really happens but in his act of forgiveness he resurrects someone something….. the editor of the magazine in all his wisdom edits the story and kills the witch and publishes it. What a cracko… I still feel so shitty about this. Why do we impose our own ideas and paradigms on the world. Why the fuck do we not let people be. We should just let people explore and form their own paradigms. Recast your own rules. Change is about making it happen. If it requires you to graft in and dig hard… so be it. But make it happen. Take your time, graft harder but make it happen. Bhen kiii… after all it’s your journey and your choice. Aaagggghhhhhhh…. What the hell… if you choose not to change the world, and flow with tide…. That’s also ok re… sab chalta hai life mein… itna bhi complex nahin na hai. Just get a rule that simplifies the entire life as you see it. the journey story works well for me. It simplifies the entire growing up and taking shit and happiness bit. That’s a large part of my life. Ma ki aa… itna variables hai ki at least the rule must be simple to see all in one lens.