make cars to improve life

Every book is interesting. Over the weekend I happened to come across ‘the Toyota way’ by Jeffrey Liker. The art and power of selective reading helped me finish it over the weekend. Don’t go by the book name. it might be primarily about the factory floor but as it was written on the cover – the Toyota way is much about the sate of mind as it is a car company. Very true. If I ever have to head a function that is high on process then the Toyota way will become an interesting book companion. The wikipedia has a comprehensive piece on the same.
While in college I was always enamored by the principle of kaizen meaning constant improvement. Little did I realize the importance of Hansei in Kaizen. The book talks about Americans being unable to really understand Hansei and my guess is that that is the reason why Kaizen does not show up on spell check while hansei does.
The obligatory pat on the back – I had been practicing a form (less intense I guess) of hansei through the last few years.
What is hansei? Hansei ("self-reflection") is a central idea in Japanese culture. Its meaning is to acknowledge your own mistake and to pledge improvement. In Japanese companies it's common practice that a manager expects hansei from his subordinates in case of mistakes. The manager takes the blame in public, whereas the department works on solving the problem. Hansei also means greeting success with modesty and humility. To stop hansei means to stop learning. With hansei one never becomes so convinced of one's own superiority that there is no more room or need for further improvement.
Many Americans have a very difficult time with the constant critiques and focus on the negative (opportunities for improvement). Andy Lund, a Program Manager at Toyota, explains it this way; “people who have not been to Japan may not understand that the objective is not to hurt that individual but to help that individual improve – not to hurt the program but to show flaws to improve the next program. If you understand that deeply, you can get through that constructive criticism. No matter how good a program or a presentation someone makes, we believe there is always something that can be improved, so we feel it is our obligation. It is not an ‘obligatory negative’ but an obligatory opportunity to improve – it is the heart of kaizen”
link1, link 2
I am reminded of the hindi lines uttered by Jasmine’s father “galti karo, sau baar karo, karte raho… par ek galti dubara mut karo” translation – make mistakes a hundred times, keep making them, but never repeat the same mistake.

The trick in life is not 'not to make mistakes'. But to make a lot of them and learning from them and to not repeat them. I have made my fair share and am continuing to make more than fair share of new ones. You can learn from other’s mistakes as well. That is a pretty cool short circuit process as well.
While the concept is easy to understand it is not so easy to implement. It requires one to be open to the fact that one is making mistakes. It requires deep introspection of the mistakes so as to never repeat them. A few years back I was into organizing large format events for our company. My subordinates used to call me ‘ravan’. I will come with my ten heads and think of new angles not visualized. Even after a highly successful event I would make time for introspection and the ‘obligatory negative / opportunity’. In events success can pretty much go to your head. I would try and guard against it. Yes it was a great event, but I am paid to do that. What is important is that we have lowered the probability of shit happening by thinking through and working hard. A 1% probability of anything happening then it means that in a hundred events that thing will definitely happen. With its occurrence will be the termination of my job. So after every event I would focus on the job, what went wrong, what could have gone wrong but didn’t, what went wrong but was controlled. I am generally less effusive in the praise unless I see something truly extraordinary. I don’t know if I should change that part of me though. Probably people deserve a bit of praise but I find it dishonest to give praise unless it truly deserves.
If one is reflective in success and failure then one understands the reason behind it and is able to better handle it. Both require handling and introspection…. Hansei

Another interesting concept is the Genchi Genbutsu. Go and see for yourself to thoroughly understand the situation. This is something I recently blogged about. Get off your high horse and outside your ivory tower and see for yourself what is going on. Extremely important for any function. I can vouch for that in marketing for sure.

A post script on the concept of praising:-
There is strategy involved in giving and interpreting compliments. Let’s say you hear someone play a difficult –but not too difficult– piece on the piano, and she plays it well. Is it a compliment if you tell her she played it beautifully?
That depends. You would not be impressed by the not-so-difficult piece if you knew that she was an outstanding pianist. So if you tell her you are impressed, then you are telling her that you don’t think she is an outstanding pianist. And if she is, or aspires to be, an outstanding pianist, then your attempted compliment is in fact an insult.
This means that, in most cases, the best way to compliment the highly accomplished is not to offer any compliment at all. This conveys that all of her fine accomplishments are exactly what you expected of her. But, do wait for when she really outdoes herself and then tell her so. You don’t want her to think that you are someone who just never gives compliments. Once that is taken care of, she will know how to properly interpret your usual silence.
source: http://www.marginalrevolution.com/marginalrevolution/2009/08/via-youknowwho.html

unemployment and a tooth

On Saturday my wife asked me to help her with making the theplas. Theplas is a type of gujju roti. So her job was to give me the dough all ready and in the right shape and I was to cook it on the stove. I had done this in the past before so I was pretty comfortable. As she churned out the raw material faster and faster the pressure was on me to keep the stuff going. Then Wifey comes out with one more pan and starts two at a time. On one pan the theplas get heated, then they get transferred to the other pan where I oil them on one side, cook a bit, then oil them on the other, cook a bit and throw them onto a pile. I was feeling pretty happy helping her finish the work fast. My servant also looked surprised to see me helping with the theplas. I was trying to do my part of the deal faster and was completely stressed out.
Then suddenly it struck me. I asked Jasmine “me helping is not really helping you do it faster is it? I think you would do all this without me at the same speed… isn’t it?” jasmine says “ya, I do all of this together at the same speed”
Hmmm… I remembered this theory of economics that we had learnt at college. I think it was in the first year. Suppose there is an acre of farm land that the farmer is tending to for years. After he has a couple of sons they to join in the farming as extra hands. So now we would have three heads employed, but if the productivity of the farm land has not gone up in the same ratio then we have what is called ‘disguised unemployment’. It just looks as if more are employed while the net effect is actually negative.
You get the drift….
Disguised unemployment at work.

One more tooth in the life of Jispa and her tooth fairy. Here is the long and shot of it. The ‘OK’ with the circle is her response to the entire episode. The no5 in the top corner is my wife clarifying which tooth number this is.

is it still big?

Conferences are done by various agencies. Some big some small. They have varying formats and objectives. But one thing remains the same. They are all extremely boring. I got one invite from a retail consulting firm and I just passed it on to the kids as there was an interesting element in the invite. I improve by copying enough! The kids instead looked and said – “please can we all go, PLEASE!” “What shit… I am not going to this shit. Its pathetic. But then they were all senti.. They thought just because I had seen it all I was refusing them the chance to be there. So I say fine... We go. Today was the day. I went in the morning and sat for one panel discussion. I saw no point in sitting further. I attended some other meeting in town and got back to office. But like every thing this too had a silver lining – we had Bhasker the MD of Titan talking. He is clearly way above the rest of the world. He has a fine marketing and business brain. Now I know why Jasmine’s brother goes gaga over the guy and company. He is truly quite a remarkable guy. He knows the difference between opinion, fact and feeling, and talks accordingly.
But the rest are still good old boring. The kids attended the entire thing. Now at least they will believe it when I say all conferences are boring. Conference jaane ka bhoot uthar gayeja. Speaker after boring speaker, power point fatigue and no insight. It’s amazing to see so many people with so little to do and that too from the top. I think its one these elephant bumping sessions… just making sure and reinforcing that your elephantine arse is still as big as ever.

what do you think about it?

"The new identity builds on and expands the foundation of investment expertise that we have created over decades. It has been crafted in line with the organization’s philosophy and endeavor to continuously unearth value and create a brand association in line with changing consumer paradigms. Against the backdrop of the global financial crisis, which completely altered the way financial institutions across the globe will function, we have recognized the shift in the Indian consumer's mood, orientation and mindset."

This is something I came across in my random surfing. What does it say… probably nothing. This is something we marketers put inside a press release and send it out to newspapers that end up carrying it. Most of the time they just paste it as is. No insight, no analysis. Monkey food. Look at the quote closely. It is about a brand with a new tag line. Does it help the brand? Does it give any insight into the reason for the change in line? You could take that paragraph and put it into any dam press release and no one would know. No one. I promise you. Whose fault is it? The PR person who drafted the release or the boss who had nothing to say? Both I guess. To use an old hindi one – taali donno haath se bajti hai. You need two hands to clap.

I many times see the insular nature of people as they move to the top. I had a bit of time to reflect on this as I was getting my shoes polished. The cobbler under the building take s around ten minutes to polish your shoes. He charges ten bucks but he keeps scrubbing your shoes. I realized that he would take quite some time soon enough. He had a decently clean shack and so I sat on seat made by the stones, next to him. Some peons of my office came to get their shoes repaired and were quite amused to see me happily sitting there. As the guys get senior they have access to peons and the workforce to do things for them. They come in AC cars, fly in planes, drink in five star joints and sit inside their cabins. They eat on their own and work on their own. Not too many guys venture outside their comfort zone. It’s funny how insular we can get. We then lose track of reality and how the world actually is…no wonder our insights are so bloody insular. The functional heads don’t meet customers, don’t really listen, don’t ask questions and generally give a miss to research happening around. I have seen this happen in every organization and at all levels. Even marketing managers commission research and then leave it to the agency to figure and present the findings in an air conditioned meeting room with butter biscuits. I have never understood why commercials are shown on a big screen in a darkened room with superior sound. Is that how most of your clients / customers going to see it? Their rooms are likely to have enough ambient noise and lighting. Simulate a home with the given distractions and show it on a 21 inch non flat TV. Now please tell what you think about it? Feedback please

daddy dearest

It is easily the most thankless job in the world. It ranks higher than sewer cleaners and marketing managers at financial firms. It is the job of waking up your kid for school. I can’t think of any job that is more necessary but is more despised by the beneficiary than this. As kids get older this gets tougher. They want to sleep more and more. They get even more lazy in the morning and even more ‘frowny’. But hell it’s a dog’s… oops a dad’s life and someone’s got to do it.
Wakey wakey wakey….
I too hated being made to get up and we were three kids. I don’t really blame my mother for screaming…. GET UP… mothers tend to be busy, hassled and on a short fuse in the morning. Jasmine so far has been quite patient. But I guess that’s because every day waking Jispa every day has been my job. I want to see Jasmine patient if she has to wake up Jispa every morning. It can be testing.

image-ination

Jispa was unwell and upset at having to miss school. I was taking her photo and she was avoiding getting shot. This is what we get...

Today is friendship day or something. Jispa's bus friend (as pictured) ties me a friendship band, 'uncle, I got a band for you as well' she said after tying one to Jispa. Gee thanks...

Coffee with cream. So sinful and so tasty. good thing my metabolism allows me these sins.

The Landmark store at pune. Landmark sure has an awesoem collection of books. Interestingly the giftwrapping is done by the security lady. A tough lady with deft hands. She wraps pretty neat. Even my wife was impressed. Jasmine does have very high standards.

Me and Dinesh. I couldnt have posed any more filmy!

awwww......

whew, that was close

Today I was in an office of ours in the morning. That office was in the process of moving as well. So there were boxes everywhere getting packed. As usual like everyone else, this too was a time for spring cleaning. An essential part of spring cleaning is shredding. You tend to accumulate papers by the kilo till you have to move on and then you are inclined them. While I was roaming around one office peon was assigned to shred tons of paper in one of the conference rooms. Nothing unsual. But suddenly something on his table caught my eye. There were two books – Search by John Battelle and Leadership by the Book by Ken Blanchard. I asked him what these were for. To shred he said. My eyes popped out and my heart skipped a beat. SHRED THESE? The Search is easily amongst the best book on search engines there is today. It well written, analysed and informative. It made me think and changed by outlook towards search. It is easily amongst the top books I have read. Ken Blanchard is a prolific writer. Normally I shun away from such books. I kind of like to call these self help for dummies who don’t know commonsense. But I have a read a few of Ken’s books and I found them to be good. I was surprised my self and it did take some amount of ego eating to say – they are actually good. Rare for a management book to be commonsense, basic, easy and good. Ken has that art. He does talk sense. So I asked the peon if he was sure he had to shred these. He said he had already shred one. Oh god! No matter how bad the book I would never be able to shred one. Even Snowball is still lying in my cupboard. The worst of all - give it to someone else. Let someone else figure what to do with it. Give it for free at eth nearest signal to the book seller. He might figure out a way to sell it to someone else. How can you shred a book? How? The book was not even opened. It’s a good thing I rescued those babies from imminent danger. Just in time.

school blues

Jispa had been a bit under the weather on Monday. Jasmine was called into school to take Jispa back as she had fever. As she realized that she was going to miss more than one day at school, Jispa was in tears. She loves going to school every day. We always dread when she gets unwell as we don’t know how we are going to get her to stay back at home. Wow. I wish I had her schooling. I went to what was at the time a decent school. It surely had a large play ground. But I guess I never did very well adjust to schooling. We satyed in Dubai till third standard and then moved into Mumbai post the fourth. It was quite a cultural shock. Dubai being Dubai was rich, opulent and full of all eth lovely things in the world such as Pepsi, Chewing gum and amazing chocolates. India was a poor country in 1984. With only Doordarshan channel one, Bata shoes, kissme toffee bars and Cadbury chocolates. It was far too disturbing for us kids than we could handle. 1984 was no where near what we have today.
Whenever we came in from Dubai for a vacation to India, we were royalty. We were aliens wearing foreign clothe eating foreign goods. It was amazing that India was so insular at the time. Every Indian would stare at us looking at all the stuff denied to him. There was practically nothing available here for any kind of consumption. Our shoes and jackets were objects of desire. The only chips I remember eating here was something called Simba chipnicks which were packed in flimsy transparent plastic pouches. Coming back to stay in India was one hell of a cultural shock.
From a school (Indian high School) which had 30 students in a classroom with two air conditioners and four fans to a school (Don Bosco) that had 60 plus students with four fans, no air-conditioning and a very wet monsoon to herald the new year. Yes it was tough adjusting. We siblings shifted in 84 with our parents coming in a year later after winding up our home there. We got in tons of goods in what was popularly known as TR (transfer of residence). In this scheme you could get in tons of foreign goodies into India, including tape recorders, foodstuff, a car, clothes, assorted electronics etc. I remember mom and dad tying to the get the consignment passed at the customs. We sold some and kept some.
So we were still living the foreign dream for a few years after (till stocks last or you outgrow them). We did not lose anything to obsolescence. Partly because things weren’t improving at a fast pace and what we had was so bloody modern by India’s standards that it took a while for India to catch up to that level. So we lived in the shadow of Dubai being no land’s children.
My dad was awesome. I never seen him complain or make a fuss about it. We never felt him to be unhappy about the shift. In Dubai he drove around a Toyota crown, in India he was happy to roam around in our brand new Bajaj Chetak scooter with a side car attached. That he had got delivery of the much in demand scooter by paying foreign exchange. Else you get it after an obscene waiting time. I think it was a year or two for a scooter and up to 5 to 7 years for a car. Chetak was not even given out easily I think. You could only buy the humble Bajaj Super. I think Bajaj might have been doing a public service or charity of sorts by advertising. With a wait list like that who needs advertising.
Schooling was stressful for me for sure. Every monsoon I would fall ill and I never did adjust to the change in weather. This continued well into college where I finally developed some resistance of any sort. The favorite illness was sore throat.
Add to that the really irritating bunch of teachers who didn’t care too much for the students. It’s unfair to say all were bad. Some were awesome and really stood apart from the crowd. I remember Ms Beatrice, Ms Marina, Ms Clare being really sweet and some nasty ones that did not think twice before slapping us. The slap was bad. That was humiliating and irritating. It created more anger than anything else. Patel sir, the PT sir once got the whole class to stand still while he went about given one whack on the bum to each and everyone of us with a hockey stick. I remember that hurting a lot but I remember that as fun. It’s the slap that was hit that hurt. The hockey stick was for some reason bearable. Years after while I was doing my summers I met a senior guy who was from my school as well. He too remembered the teachers slapping and hated it.
I was telling Jispa that my teachers used to hit us and slap us. She was listening in all amazement. She has been living a fairy tale for now.
All in all school was not happening for me. I finally figured it around the 9th and 10th standard. I guess by then we were truly Indians in all sense. We might have run out of our Dubai security blankets/ blings and I think I was getting some of my confidence back. Hell in 10th standard I was even made monitor of the class. But my crowning moment was actually in the 9th when I won the ‘second best actor award’. I knew I was good at acting and I did not mind losing first place as I believed it was partiality at play. Who knows who cares? I loved it and my play was a really funny play titled ‘the watermelon cure’. I used to take part in all extra-curriculars as it meant bunking class for practice. Awesome!
But today as I look back, I don’t really miss school nor do I blame them. That was the best school around at the time. Just that we hadn’t as a nation removed our blinkers and opened ourselves to the changes happening around. We too were guilty of being in a time warp. I am happy that I was baler to balance the equation before I hit college. Hence actually between the school and college, for some reason I prefer my college life. That I met my life there and went through five years with her by my side must have been an important factor. That was an era of India opening up. 91 to 96… but then that is another story or should I say another blog entry.

give up on it

A ha… an issue which I have pondered on many times before. When do you realize that the book is a lost cause. When you do realize it what do you do? At what point do you give up? I came across this article that hopes to point some direction to my predicament.
An interesting thumb rule propounded:
The "Deduct Your Age from 100 and Read That Many Pages before Giving Up on a Book" rule. The older you get, the less inclined you are to waste your time on something that doesn't grab you.
Some other stuff that caught my eye wherein a former teacher muses, "I often wonder if people who are turned off by being forced to read books they do not like then become nonreaders later on." A no less august reader than Samuel Johnson declared, as Mr. Cowen quotes in his book, "A man ought to read just as inclination leads him; for what he reads as a task will do him little good."
Very true. I think I could never read certain books, especially if they are expected of me to read them as a text book. “The pressure of reading is so detrimental to the process of reading it”… there I go again making clever sounding isms. But at least now I know why took to reading so late in my life. I really started reading regularly in the last five odd years. But now it’s an unshakeable habit.
One particular book which was a mammoth tomb was Snowball. It is an autobiography of Warren Buffet. Really really sad book. There was no insight into the man’s brain. When you have an investor who became the richest man in the world and is known for his wit and incisive wisdom, the book come across frigid. Absolutely no insight in the man’s wisdom and really very boring. Unauthorized analysis of his wisdom in the many books that have been produced contain much more. The book goes on and on. At some points I had to simply skim through the pages while simply turning a large amount. Horrible. I think this is one book that deserves to be thrown out of the window as one good deed for the day. Though my philosophy has always been – even the worst book in the world can teach you something – you will at least know what you hated about it
On another note, I don’t know how reading will evolve over the next few years. There are tons of blogs and sites out there that one would like to constantly read and be updated through. While I was surfing I came across an interesting quotation. “The first half of our lives is ruined by our parents, and the second half by our children” -Clarence Darrow. Hahhaha. Sorry mom dad and Jispa. But I really find this one funny.
And on another note I found an interesting question - what would happen to the demand for tea if there was a health scare regarding coffee? It is not that easy to answer. Think about it.

oooooo angel eyes...

My brother and his wife suddenly announced one day that they brought home a puppy. They named him something. After a few weeks when they went to the vet they realized that they had got the naming all wrong. He was a she. Oops. Let rename her Angel. An angel she is. What was that word again… portentous…? Yes. The most amazing dog in the world. An absolutely beautiful dog with the least amount of attitude. She genuinely loves having her friends around. There is a lot you can do with her and you can play with her as you like. While she was growing up I loved running with her. I dare say I don’t race her anymore. She is sleek and fast. The only thing is that she does not like other dogs too much. She has a limited circle of friends.
She is the one who initiated Jispa in and more importantly Jasmine into dogs. Earlier jasmine used to run away from any living creature. Especially dogs that … lick!! Yuccckkkk. I couldn’t care less. Jispa didn’t know whom to follow. Slowly she realized through her kaki that dogs have a cute side to them. Jasmine now realized the futility of avoiding the dreaded licking. I love getting licked on the nose by Angel. Jispa almost gets knocked over by her when Angel jumps and reaches for Jispa’s nose.
But it is a beautiful relationship they share. Angel has beautifully contributed to Jispa’s growing up. I guess thanks to her, Jispa is less aversive to dogs and more importantly other animals as well. The power of a sibling in your child’s growth?

There are not many dogs that I know of that allow me to do this to them. She is truly part of teh family
And if she had a theme song I would put my buck on ‘angel eyes’

Random musings of a man who might have found the 'theory' to happiness...

There seems to be a clear trade off between being big and being good. Why is growth a given. Can we choose not to grow and instead focus on values that are close to our hearts? Is it possible to have a simple life and choose not to grow? Is it possible for a company to stay where they are and refuse the opportunity to grow? We tend to judge success by outward size. We tend to believe that size is the only thing that matters. When I look at my career and look with some satisfaction at what I might have achieved / not achieved, what matters? The size of my pay packet, the size of my desk, my team, what? When a company grows larger and larger chasing growth, how do you judge it? The size of its sales, employee force, balance sheet, what?
Whenever I think about this and go home all disturbed, I see my daughter, my wife. The answer is right there… blowing in the wind… (Sorry couldn’t resist that one). Too many businesses pursuing growth and expansion, when they should be pursuing happiness and satisfaction. What is the matrix of human achievement at the end of it all? Happiness and satisfaction. Can growth give you that? This is not meant to be rhetoric.
The point of satisfaction is different for different people. Some will never stop. They are the Chasers. They create jobs, money and income for all. They are valuable for the advance of society as we know it. The ones that see a point and stop are the Anchors. They bring happiness and content to our lives. They bring solidity and support. They help balance the energy. The perfect yin and yan of our lives. As always one must not impose on the other. Families typically do well to have a mix of both in their lives. The Anchor role is typically played by the older and the Chaser role by the younger. Allowing for both philosophies to exist might be an important part of family life. As families get nuclear the importance of retaining this balance is even more important.
Friends play a large role in this as well. We at different points of our lives oscillate between the two. Chase, Anchor. After running like a plucked chicken all day, one recognizes and appreciates the calming influence of a friend who quietly listens and slows down the pace. When being down and out, a friend who encourages you to be up and doing is being the Chaser. You could be a Chaser one moment and an Anchor the next. I doubt if there are people who sit only on one side of the fence, never to traverse the other side.
Understanding that there is a Chaser and an Anchor in you is an interesting part of your self understanding. Realizing that these opposites can exist and that you willfully allow them to exist as well is important. Choosing when to allow which beast to run is THE ART.
While the twains coexist, at a point of decision you must choose. You cannot straddle the middle line. Yes, no or at the best abstain. You may wait till you have the time but given the time for choice a firm choice must be made either way. We face irritation when we do not release that we want to be both. I somehow visualize Tarzan here. He swings from one vine to another. Picture this, Tarzan swinging from one vine holds another and does not let go of either. He is pretty much stuck. Quite a funny picture. I could not resist drawing this. It is a vivid picture in my mind.

I am sure is this position he would be feeling pretty ‘stuck’. Let go of one.

While I say ‘let it go’... a tune got stuck in my head… let it go, let it go, let it go… I kept searching for it and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Till I realized I had got my words and tune mixed up. I was humming – let it snow let it snow let it snow… sure enough… I got it… here you are a Dean Martin classic I assume. I love the tune. And I still like singing… let it go let it go let it go.

untested by faith?

Well of all things in the morning I got going, through my feeds, on the topic of faith and religion. It is always a contentious topic where some things that work for one need not work for the other. The contention starts when one starts imposing the will or the rather should I say belief of one on another. I have remained fairly neutral on this, especially in open forums. Religion to me is a private choice. It must not be imposed not argued. I take no sides. I try and remain core to my beliefs. At the simplest if I attempt to code it, it might read thus - Try and not hurt, try and help. I have made some noises to the effect in my earlier blogs as well.
Being a parent puts even more stress on one’s belief. What I do is what Jispa will learn to follow. The second last thing I want to teach her is a reliance on a religion. The last thing I want to teach her is absence of faith. How do I reconcile the two within her, within us? The answer is not so straight forward. It is difficult on yourself to codify your beliefs in a manner that your six year old can understand them. I would like her to have a right to question belief. To choose what she thinks is right from her perspective. Above all, I want her to choose something, not because her parents have chosen, but she herself has found something that rings some bell inside of her. The belief must be strong enough to help her when she needs it and flexible enough to accommodate the many inconsistencies that she will encounter as she grows up. It must be able to expand and to allow for opposites to remain reconciled. It must never draw her into an argument but allow to accept others for they are and for what they stand for.
I don’t know how we are doing it. It does help that we have Jispa. She seems to be accepting abstractions and apparent vagueness pretty well. I love it when I say “I don’t know, no one knows and what you think works for you is what works for you”. She thinks a bit. She is quiet, absorbing not refuting. Then the penny drops after due consideration, not blind obeisance. That’s my girl. My mom tells me that I am teaching her to argue. Well I probably am. Anyone read this book – The Argumentative Indian. I am teaching plurality of right.
While jumping tabs I came across two awesome videos that capture similar messages quite well.

This one captures the my belief in scientific thought



This one captures the my belief in religious thought



Do note I am not an atheist. I have faith in faith. It’s only more internal. Thanks Jasmine. You might not know but our faith has evolved thanks to you and me together. I owe a lot of this to you.
Once I had shown my kundli (horoscope) to someone while we were in college. The astrologer predicted that I would not have a love marriage. I was a bit downcast. Jasmine asked me “do you really believe in this?” I said “no, not really”. With her characteristic matter of fact tone she replied “then why do you go to them?” I never did afterwards. I never did.

oh kaalia, I read your mind?

I have no clue but a colleague suddenly turns up on gtalk and knows I blog and reads it regularly. One day we were having a conversation on my earlier blog. I thought it merited being reproduced here. For sake of everyone around I hide ID. No one really knows who is searching for what tehse days and what can be used against / for you. So in spite of a willing bakra I have decided to withhold ID. But thank you for this conversation and think for encouraging me to write. It does means a lot. Some day Jispa might read all this and smile. Mission Accomplished.

This is about the kaalia blog and if you read this you will understand the meaning of that vague blog. I had meant to write the meaning of this someday but would have forgotten if not for this conversation with this colleague.

--id withheld--: hey do you have 2 minutes
jaimit: i have
but not for you
--id withheld--: :(
okay 1 min
for me#
jaimit: ok done.. only for BD
--id withheld--: whst the hell is o kaalia i read your mind..
jaimit: abhi bol?
heheheheheheheheh
hahhahahahahaha
hohohohohohoh
--id withheld--: i got a headache thinking abt it
jaimit: it is a philosophy
do you really wanna know?
--id withheld--: enlighten me o great one
jaimit: hahahha
ok.. its is from a amarchitrakatha story
--id withheld--: go on...
jaimit: once a fellow sees someone tell a poem to the king
the king gives him gold. seeing this our hero decides to write poetry himself
his wife tells him to get inspiration
so he thinks and thinks
then he gets tired and is fed up of his wife's taunt
so he goes to the lake and tries to drown
the lake has cold water
he starts shivering
he thinks it must be inpiration and then tries heis hand at [poetry
the only thing he sees is a crow
the crowis dipping his beak in the water and sharpening
he then coins the wrds "you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again ... o kalia i read your mind
then he goes to the king
he tells this to the king
the darbar is silent
the king thinks that no one comes to my court and gives silly gyan.. this must be some deep meaning behind it
so he keeps the man with the gaurds an d spends some days thinking about it.
one day in the morning the king is about to get his beard shaved by the rooyal barber.
the barber is sharpening his blade....
the king to himself remarks
"you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again... o kaalia i read your mind'
while he says it absent mindedly the barber thinks he is telling him
the barber puts down his blade and asks the king for forgiveness
the king wonders what is going on..
the barber confesses - i was given a bribe by the neighborhood kingdom to kill you... but you already know of my intention...
i am kaalia the barber... i am sorry
--id withheld--: aha
jaimit: so the king feels that the man who wrote the poem is no ordinary man
but actually a prophet
the man goes home with a lot of money
his wife is surprised and happy to see him
" you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again... o kaalia i read your mind"
there - now you know
the fun thing is that my bro and sis know of the story and the line
and almost no one else
so whenever we say it none understands but we know the gibberish for its worth - gibberish
so we laugh and laugh and the other guy wonders what is so funny
that makes us laugh again.
--id withheld--: aha..
jaimit: hahahahahah
hohohoho
hehehehhe
--id withheld--: this is a good one
jaimit: yes it is
and extremely irritating of you don’t know what
--id withheld--: will try it on a few friends
jaimit: hahahhaahha
and its not even there on the internet
--id withheld--: i wanted to catch hold of you on sunday so i know what the hell it is
jaimit: the only thing that comes up if you search for it is --- guess what?
--id withheld--: what?
jaimit: MY BLOG!!!!!
--id withheld--: ha ha ha
jaimit: why you wanted to catch me on sunday?
--id withheld--: to know what the hell this meant
jaimit: what did you think
some deeeeeeeep meaning/
--id withheld--: absolutely not!
jaimit: on a philosophical level - it actually stands for something
--id withheld--: Jaimit=deep meaning is not possible
jaimit: heheheheh
i love you for hating me
--id withheld--: yes... why not!
jaimit: it is a prophetic kind of phrase
it shows that people take meaning from what is relevant to them
even the stupidest of things hold meaning and value
--id withheld--: trust you to actually give meaning to something like that...
jaimit: have you read the KRA ISE that company sends out
--id withheld--: attempted to.. but never succeeded
to read KRA Ise
jaimit: sometimes i put in nonsense words in the copy
words that mean nothing
but none ever finds out
they get their meaning out of it
including the top to the bottom most employee
you must have read my blogpost where brahma says ' da'
--id withheld--: yes
jaimit: do you remember it?
--id withheld--: i never understood what that meant
jaimit: remember it
--id withheld--: and then something about da da dum or something like that
jaimit: no..
--id withheld--: i do remember the brahma says da thing
jaimit: and the different people, gods and asuras think differently what it means
they get their meaning from it
--id withheld--: yes..
trying to find the damn thing
jaimit: http://jaimit.blogspot.com/2009/06/da-email.html
got it
--id withheld--: ah yes
it was quite nice
now i remember
jaimit: like the nonsense i write for my daughter
--id withheld--: i remembered your little poem in the end
jaimit: she likes it for it is
--id withheld--: so do i :)
jaimit: one could like it for it can be
Dum chik chick bum bumWhat a funny bum bumWhy have you bum bumWhen there is only one bumDum chik chick bum bum
--id withheld--: ha ha
jaimit: it is actually a philosophy question
why do you need two when you need one
--id withheld--: oh dear lord!
jaimit: there is a reason why the spelling of chik is different - chick and chick
chik
--id withheld--: because a chick has one bum
jaimit: no no
--id withheld--: ha ha
then why
jaimit: there are two - bum bum
otherwise the question will be
why two bum bum and why two chick chick
now the only question is that chick and chik is different but bum bum is two
when there is only one bum why two?
--id withheld--: all the very best to Jispa
jaimit: you read that piece on bob dylan
--id withheld--: yes
that was nice
i had just heard th song that day
jaimit: people were thinking too much into the peorty
--id withheld--: so good coincidence
jaimit: what is that answer in the wind
there isnt too much beyond it..
all he is saying is that the answer is in the wind.. simple
but we cant understand it - it can be that simple
--id withheld--: yes sometimes people want complicated answers
jaimit: i purposely like giving innocuously simple lines
those that can twisted into complication
--id withheld--: things too simple sometimes hold no value for people
jaimit: but they really do mean nothing more than what they are
ecjactly
--id withheld--: :)
jaimit: the meaning is - there is no meaning but there could be....
if you want it so be it!
--id withheld--: hmmm....
jaimit: i am thinking about putting this conversation on the blog

showers

Life has hit routine. Sleep by 10 – 10.30. Wake up alarm at 5.55 am then snooze a bit, then shut the alarm and sleep a bit. Get out of bed by 6.10. Brush, and then get Jispa up. Wakey wakey wakey… Spend at least 5 -10 minuets coercing her to get up. Coerce her? Let’s look up the dictionary – coerce - to cause to do through pressure or necessity, by physical, moral or intellectual means. Yup, coerce is perfect. I use all means mentioned above as well as some more. Then get her to the bathroom and give her a bath. Its good fun to give her a bath every day. When we recently did the plumbing in the bathrooms, we kept a rain shower (pretty cool thing that) in one bathroom and I got my self a good replacement on the hand shower in the other. There was no way I was going to get an overhead shower in both the bath rooms. When I am giving Jispa a bath, the hand shower is perfect for use as a hose. It’s easier and much more fun for me. She practically wakes up in the shower. Then drying her, a big hug and its time for mommy to take over. Breakfast and out to the bus stop. Thanks to this I reach office at 8 am. A full 90 minutes before official time. It’s a good thing I got my RSS feeds and two newspapers to read.

While on the showers… the builders had given us really silly hand showers that sprayed water all over the bathroom. We had to do something to it. The catalyst for change was a lovely bath I had at my friend’s house under the overhead shower. It was pretty cool thing. So we decided to get one at our house as well. The shop I went into was a fittings store at Matunga. He sold stuff from Jaguar bath fittings. Not to be confused with its automobile namesake but a brand on to itself. Do you have rain showers? Sure – here is one. How much? Eight thousand rupees. WHAT ON EARTH? EIGHT THOUSAND BUCKS. DO YOU HAVE GOLD FALLING FROM IT? Do you have a smaller one? yes sir. Here is one for four thousand. YA SURE – THIS ONE HAS SILVER FALLING FROM IT.
I lost all hope in getting a shower done in my bathroom. Jasmine suggested we go to Dadar and see others. Sure enough. At Dadar we got another one (unbranded) for guess what – five hundred bucks. Jaguar charges a premium of 16 times. Yes you heard me right 16 times. I am sure the quality must be better but 16 times? That’s an unheard of margin. Wow. What a cool brand. That too in something as mundane as bathroom fittings where the stuff is at the essence of it, the same thing. My friend had bought the Jaguar one. Sure enough, he insisted that the quality was much better. I am sure the water drops must have been… rounder; ‘more rounder’ I guess. BUT 16 TIMES. I am happy with my drops beings a bit, a bit…. They could be square for all I care. 16 times. BAH!

cut it

Jispa had her first hair day. Well not exactly that but … ok., lets start from the beginning. Everyday her mom and her would be fighting over her hair. Combing it, removing knots, they coming in her eyes etc. Being eth dad I obviously know nothing about hair care. For me any solution is simply – Shampoo it. Obviously its pretty ineffective. So every now and then I would be calling for a cease fire. Actually shouting CEASE FIRE is more like it. so I started working on Jispa to have her hair cut short. I thought of everything in the book for her to cut it shorter. That she looks pretty cute with short hair helps. So finally she agrees. But she decides the length. It her call. I am ok. She wanted to go to a particular neighborhood parlor where she used to get it trimmed. I had my doubts but let it happen. Mommy and Jispa go there while I proceed for my hair cut. Jispa like me to cut my hair short so that she can massage my head without me worrying about how I might end up looking like.

After I am through I wait for her under the building. She emerges in a really bad mood and with a few tears. What happened I ask? I look at mummy who signals a really bad mood indicator. Jispa is no mood to talk. I figure that she is very unhappy with the length. It seems that she had clearly indicated length. The stupid lady cut it in that length at the back and then cut it sorter in the front. Oh shit. Why do these idiots think? Can’t they just do as they are told? Can’t they ask? I told Jispa next time you cut it at a decent place. She was angry with everybody. Why me? I was not even there. EVERYONE… evn me because of me she cut it short. Oh ok… I am sorry. I agree it could have been cut better but it wasn’t that bad. It was pretty cute that way itself. But I guess she was in no real mood to listen. All I could tell her that the best thing with hair is that it grows. So it will be fine soon enough :). I know. I have had really bad hair cuts myself.

Luckily the art has improved over the years with a variety of styles and cuts coming in. When I was a kid the guys cutting hair were really pathetic. Trained to cut without seeing the person or the face. When you cut someone’s hair you are not cutting hair, you are giving shape to someone’s personality. The ones who understand that become stylists, the other remain butchers.

In the middle I was seriously contemplating taking up hair cutting as a part time hobby. I even inquired about the course. But hell, I just couldn’t find the time to take it up. Someday I would. Possibly after retirement, when my hands are no longer steady. Or retire before the hands get shaky I guess. Ya. That’s a better option. I will do one thing for sure, talk a lot while cutting. Especially when I am using my brains, and most important – ask again and again to be sure, when I cut someone’s hair SHORT.

My attempt at writing stories for seven year olds - Manali in Mumbai

Manali in Mumbai

Mumbai. What a beautiful city. It is so large and full of people. You bump into people everywhere. At train stations, at bus stations, at coffee shops, everywhere. There are so many things to do, so many places to see. Yes Mumbai is a large city.

Manali was a small girl in large Mumbai. She loved her city and everything about it, but the best thing for her was Mumbai’s big huge double-decker busses. She would get her Papa to take her on the bus from home to the city end and then back again.

Waiting at the bus stop Manali would ask her papa. This one? This one? This one? Her Papa would look hard at the bus number and then pull out a piece of paper from his pocket and stare at it. He always forgot which bus number went where. So her mummy wrote out the numbers on a small piece of paper and gave it him.

One day he forgot to take the piece of paper along. Manali was very upset with him. But not for too long. She loved her Papa. She was used to Papa forgetting everything and doing silly things. One day he wore his t shirt inside out, the other day he forgot his wallet and he was always forgetting his cell phone everywhere. But Manali was a very smart girl. She would remind him about everything.

Today before they left Manali asked her papa – “did you take your wallet?” “yes” said Papa. “cap?” “yes Manali”, “cell phone, wallet, paper with bus numbers?” she went on… “yes, Manali, I took them all” As they went near the lift Manali suddenly slapped her hand on her head. “What happened, Manali. Now what did I forget?” asked her papa. “Papa” said Manali. You forgot to wear your shoes. “oops” shouted papa “thank you Manali. I would not know what to do with out you. Just don’t tell mama what I forgot this time.” Her Papa laughed.

It was a good thing that Manali now knew how to pack her bag. She was like her mummy. She was well organized and knew what went into her bag. The milk pack, a pack of biscuits, a tiffin box with two cheese sandwiches for her Papa and her, a tomato ketchup packet, a small bottle of water, binoculars and at last a napkin. She did not let silly Papa carry anything, not even the bag. Who knows where Papa would forget the bag.

Now why would a little girl like Manali carry binoculars? Binoculars helped her see things that are far very clearly. Manali always wanted to see birds clearly. But does Mumbai have any birds? Of course you can see the crows, pigeons, mynas and sparrows. But you don’t need binoculars to see that. You see them everywhere. You can see them outside your window. Put some corn outside and see them come.

But Manali’s favorite bird was a small bird, a lovely bird called the copper smith barbet. It is such a pretty bird. It is green, small with a tough short beak and has a red tuff on its head. It is difficult to see. Not too many people knew that you can see it in the city. It is well hidden inside the leaves of the peepal trees that are all over Mumbai.

But then how would Manali know its there. It was the sound of that bird that told her. What is the sound like? Well, it is called the copper smith barbet because it made a sound of a copper smith working. Go to your kitchen and ask your mummy for a copper vessel. It is a little golden in color. If you don’t have a copper vessel a heavy steel one would do, I guess. Then hold it upside down with your hand inside it. Take a spoon or any other heavy thing and bang the vessel, but not too hard. There. Tonk tonk tonk. That’s the sound of a coppersmith barbet.

Next time you roam around Mumbai, try and spot a peepal tree. It has a fat leaf with a pointy tip coming out. Wait for two minutes quietly. You might just hear a coppersmith barbet going – tonk tonk tonk. Look around you if Manali is there and you could borrow her binoculars and see the bird yourself. It is a beautiful bird.

So Manali packed all her stuff in her backpack and went off with her silly Papa to see Mumbai. They took a double decker bus to her favorite place – Chowpatty. Chowpatty beach was Manali’s favorite outdoor place. The museum was her favorite indoor place. At Chowpatty, Manali loved the sea, the waves and the wind. It was fun to go close to the sea; just enough to wet her toes and then she would close her eyes.

She would hear the waves come closer and suddenly wet her toes. This would tickle her a bit, and she would hold here papa’s hand tightly, but not open her eyes. Now wait for the next wave to come close and tickle her again. Sometimes a big wave would come in and she would jump on her papa and hang on his legs like a monkey. Then papa and Manali would laugh like crazy.

They laughed so much that mummy would look and wonder if the sea had some magical laughing gas. Papa and Manali would just not stop laughing. They would laugh all the way home. If the laughing stopped, they would look at each other and start laughing all over again. Mummy would look at them; wonder if they were all potty in the head. It was the best fun in the whole world.

At this time the chowpatty beach was even more special. It was the Ganapati festival. They were there on the fifth day. That was the day when Ganapati statues of all shape and sizes were brought to the sea for immersion. They would come in cars, carts, and trucks with all the kids, friends and land up at the beach. They would pray to the idol, give out sweets, burst a few crackers and dance a bit.
Then the men would go into the sea, carrying the statue on their heads. The people on the beach would shout out loud ‘Ganapati Bappa, moriya!’ ‘GANAPATI BAPPA, MORIYA’.. louder and louder. One dip, second dip and the third dip and they would let the statue slowly sink into the sea. Ganapati will be back next year with lots more fun. Manali really loved it all. There were so many Ganpatis all around.

Soon it was getting late and they had spent more than two hours at the beach. She had eaten her sandwiches. She had used her binoculars to see the Ganapatis being taken to the sea. It had also a rained a little that day and then when the sun came out soon after, she could see a lovely rainbow over the sea. Wow. The colorful rainbow was like the perfect cherry on what had been a lovely day.

While they were walking back from the beach Manali could see some men selling bubbles. They were selling bubble liquids in small cases. They were blowing bubbles in the wind. She stopped to see and play with the bubbles. She had to hold her silly papa and make him sit or else he would have just walked away not knowing that Manali had stopped. He was such a silly papa.

She went dancing around and jumping high and low. She wanted to touch the bubbles. But every time Manali touched a bubble. Pop, it would burst. Pop. Another one would burst. They would just keep bursting. But Manali did not want to burst them. She wanted to hold them. She wanted to keep them. She wanted a bubble that would not burst at all.

She kept trying. At first she was trying to catch them. That did not work. Then she tried chasing a bubble that floated away. Slowly, slowly she tried to put her arm around and try to stop the bubble from flying away. It still burst in her hand.

She even tried to stand like a scarecrow, very still and quiet, with her arm stretched so that a bubble can somehow slowly land in her hand and she could take it with her everywhere. But the bubble would just dash against her and pop they went.

She then had an idea. She wet her hands and tried to reach out to the bubbles. Something magic was going to happen. One big bubble floated to her hand and came to rest there. It was there for a second, two seconds. Manali was very happy. Her silly Papa who watching all this was happy. That was a bubble she could carry everywhere with her. Pop. That too burst. Manali was now getting sad.

Her papa was looking at all this silently. He called her to his side and asked her what she wanted. Manali said that she wanted a bubble that she could take with her everywhere and look at whenever she wanted.

He thought for a while. He was talking to himself. Mumble bumble trouble… he then snapped his fingers and smiled. “What?” Asked Manali, a little excited by now. “why are you smiling?”. Her Papa replied “I think I know what you are looking for. You are looking for A PERFECT BUBBLE.” “A perfect bubble? What is that?” asked Manali.

Papa slowly explained “A Perfect Bubble is a bubble that you can carry along where ever you are. You can see when ever you want to. It will always be with you”. “Yes, I want the Perfect Bubble now” said Manali.

“Then come along sit with me quietly. Now look at the man blowing bubbles. Look at him closely. Wait till he blows a big round bubble. Not an oval or a square bubble, but a BIG ROUND BUBBLE.” Manali sat next to her papa watching the bubbles come out and fly.

Small bubbles came, many bubbles came, and some were big but not round. Some were round but were not big. Some were two joined to each other. Some just broke as soon as they were made. But Manali and Papa were not going anywhere. They were waiting for the BIG ROUND BUBBLE that would become their Perfect Bubble.

Soon enough, a big bubble began to form. It was quite big. “Yes, that’s the one” said papa. “Watch it closely. See its flying. Look at the way the bubble looks. Can you see the rainbow glowing in it? The rainbow colors inside are moving. Look closely. Everything inside looks upside down. It’s floating up. Now it is floating to the left, now right. Watch closely”.

Manali was watching very closely. See could see only the bubble. Nothing but the bubble. It was truly beautiful. She could see the rainbow in it. Very clearly. The colors inside were actually moving. She could see the brown of the sand in it and the blue of the sky in it. The bubble was moving so slowly, floating as if an invisible fairy was holding it in her hand so that Manali could see it clearly. It was not just a Big Round Bubble. It was THE PERFECT BUBBLE.

While the bubble was still floating, she heard her Papa say “now close your eyes slowly and try to remember the perfect bubble”. Manali closed her eyes. Yes. The Perfect Bubble was there. It was clear. She could see it. Floating, flying. The rainbow was there as well. Its colors were still moving inside. The Brown and the Blue was still there. Wow…

Her Papa was the best silly Papa in the whole world. Now the Perfect Bubble would always be with her, wherever she went. In the bathroom, on the stool, in the kitchen, on the table, in the school, on the terrace or even at the zoo. She could see The Perfect Bubble whenever she wanted. All she had to do was close her eyes.

----

Mangala ho

Mangalsutra not a must for Hindu marriage: High Court - saying it was not mandatory for the groom to tie a 'mangalsutra' around the bride's neck to prove a marriage between Hindus.
People take anything to the court. Jasmine does not wear any symbol of marriage (and neither do I). In fact I don’t even remember if I tied a mangalsutra. Might have... might not have, but one thing is for sure, she doesn’t roam around with it. I don’t remember if we gave her an engagement ring also. And the ring I got for my marriage is practically unwearable. It’s that ugly.
The story of that ring goes thus – Jasmine’s mom wanted to take my measurement to get me a ring. I refused to give the measurement saying I don’t want a ring. Why don’t they just take Jasmine’s measurement and give the dam ring to her. At least it will get worn. Also I didn’t particularly like the concept of getting anything from the bride’s family. My theory was simple. You can give whatever you want to her, spare me. I don’t even want to know. Then when I reached home my mom asked me “you didn’t give your measurement?” “No, how did you know?” “They called” “ya, I told them to give the ring to Jasmine. I don’t want any of it”. Mom figured it’s a futile argument with me. Dad took me aside and spoke something to this effect “I understand and appreciate your values. But also do realize that their parents have certain aspirations and dreams. Sometimes it does not make sense to fight it. You can always give the ring back to Jasmine. No body forces you to wear it.” … hmmmm… penny drops. I give measurement. I get a hideous ring in return. A golden ring with nine diamonds on it. I am not wearing that one for sure. What a waste of emotion.
Coming back to marriage symbols. I never did want Jasmine to wear any symbol that showed her betrothal to the world. It’s her choice. No sindoor, no ring, no mangalsutra, no nose ring.. On our honeymoon, she was in denims, t shirts and a back pack. So was I. Since this trip was not immediately after the marriage there was no mehendi on her hands as well. Amongst the places we visited was a beautiful temple village called Jageshwar in Kumaon. A very pretty temple complex amongst huge Deodhar trees. With very few devotees there was no jostling around the sanctum sanctorum while the evening puja was happening. We were along with one more couple inside. After the puja, we were making our way towards the hotel when the other couple (locals from around) offered us a lift to the hotel. While we got talking the guy asked me “are you guys hindus?” “yup we are” Jainism could loosely be called Hinduism I guess. “aaa, don’t mind, but is she… uu.. are you married?” “ya. She is my wife” “sorry, we were only asking because we were wondering because there is no sindoor, no mangalsutra, no nose ring, no…” I could only laugh. I told them we don’t have anything like that and we don’t really believe in it. What to do?

kaalia management

I have a new technique in management. MPF - Management by Poker Face. Whenever the kids come to me asking for help on a certain issue, I am going to just maintain the same face. Poker face. I did that a few times already. They come with a problem, they look at me, don’t get reaction, they walk away with an answer in their head. It’s that simple. No use of any subliminal techniques, no ESP, nothing. Just keep on doing what you were doing. Don’t ignore. Just keep the poker face. Don’t show any reaction. That’s it. people will magically grow up. They suddenly come to you less often. They take more decisions themselves. Things happen. Taking charge happens. Wow…

The next technique I want to apply is kaalia management. Whenever anyone comes to me with an issue I will simply look at the person squarely in the eye… hold it for a second… gaze upwards and say “you dip in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”. That’s it. Then turn away look somewhere else, walk away, type away. I think the key is the way you say it. It must sound profound enough. I am going to try this often. “.”
Do not take this portentous line lightly (I just learnt that word; I hope I am using it rightly. It means ominously prophetic). There is deep wisdom and reference from where I learnt it as an eight year old. My brother and sister burst out laughing every time I use it. We get hysterical and everyone around us fails to see the prophecy hidden within the line.

I will let you know what happens when I start using the kaalia technique to management.

Oh but you really do want to know what exactly the line means. Well here “you dip it in the water and sharpen it again and again… o kaalia, I read your mind”

open up

While doing some general researching I came across this interesting study

A new kind of economic indicator
By Richard Florida
In 2007 Charlotta Mellander and I examined how various regional factors shape housing prices. We found that two factors combine to shape them. The first is pretty obvious: income. The wealthier the residents, the pricier the housing. The second and much larger factor is reflected by our Bohemian–Gay Index, which combines the concentration of artists, musicians, and designers with the concentration of gays and lesbians in a region. Regardless of which variables we applied, what version of the model we used, or which regions we looked at, the concentration of bohemians and gays consistently had a staggering impact on housing values.
We found that the presence of these populations had direct effects on housing values as well as other locational variables (like income and human capital), making these places more attractive to other populations and demographics. In other words, the presence of these groups not only made housing values rise, it made incomes rise as well.
Why would this be? Our theory is that bohemian and gay populations capitalize on two distinct factors of high-value housing. The first is an aesthetic–amenity premium. Artists and bohemians not only produce amenities but are attracted to places that have them. As selective buyers with eyes for amenity, authenticity, and aesthetics, they tend to concentrate in places where these things abound. The second is a tolerance or open-culture premium. Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines. Artistic and gay populations also cluster in communities that value open-mindedness and self-expression.
And their status as historically marginalized groups means that artistic and gay populations tend to be highly self-reliant and receptive to newcomers. They’ve had to build networks from scratch, mobilize resources independently, and create their own organizations and companies.
For all of these reasons, regions where artists and gays have migrated and settled are more likely than others to place high premiums on innovation, entrepreneurship, and new-company formation. It’s not that gays and bohemians drive up housing simply by paying more; their effect on housing prices is far less direct. Bohemian and gay residents drive up housing value because they make areas that were already ripe for growth even more desirable, and to a greater number of people.

This sidebar is excerpted from Florida’s recent book Who’s Your City? How the Creative Economy Is Making Where You Live the Most Important Decision of Your Life.
Source http://whatmatters.mckinseydigital.com/innovation/a-new-kind-of-economic-indicator

-------
They are right. Open cultures and communities would always do better than closed ones. This would reflect in all sorts of economic indicators. It seems to be empirical proof of the point I have been trying to make. Openness is a must in our mindsets. Even for selfish reasons: Regions with large bohemian and gay populations possess low cultural barriers to entry, allowing them to attract talent and human capital across racial, ethnic, and other lines.
The US was built by a steady stream of enterprising immigrants who fueled its bio-diverse populace and allowed to attract some of the best brains in the business. For rock solid proof we might do well to research the Manhattan Project or even see the mix in the Silicon Valley. Openness begets openness. What you want in life? To be surrounded by narrow minded backward looking bigots that seek to protect the gene pool as if it were nectar or be surrounded by open forward looking people who are able to break conventions, ask why not and challenge not only themselves but those around them. Do you get better by gazing at your navel or by looking and learning from those around you? Open up. Be ready to accept new ideas, cultures, habits, technology and quirks. I am amazed by the response of the world and those around me at times. Why would they so want to hold on to status quo? I think they might be pressured into giving a response and that’s why they might be using the safe route and stonewalling anything new. I normally use the words ‘I don’t know; guess it works for some’. Not all new is good, the same way not all new is bad. It’s better to buy time, research, understand consequences and then have an opinion. Till then it’s better to admit ignorance.
Now that’s ironic. A lot of blog posts of mine are highly opinionated. Take the one before last. I had an opinion on a life décor, of all things a bloody lift! How does that really matter?
The disclaimer is thus. I really don’t have as strong an opinion as might be reflected in the blog. But a exaggerated pot shot at something odd does make for good copy. Forgive me.

handle on life

Google analytics is such a useful tool to put on your blog. It gives you tons of visitor statistics, which pages are popular, where readers come from etc etc. Its fun having this information and I have put these codes up sometime back. But then again, why should I be so enamored by it? My core target is Jispa. If I choose to play to the gallery, that would defeat the entire purpose and authenticity of the blog, wouldn’t it? Sure you are welcome. All can read. It is an open blog, but the writing must personal and to my mind directed. Would I have been able to keep this going otherwise? I don’t think so.
The birth of child is the death of the father. Somebody told me that kabir said so. The moment your child is born you start living your child’s life, you are ready to give up your life for your child, so in effect you are dead in that way.
A child changes you in many ways that one cannot fathom. This time when we went on a vacation to the north I had a bad back. It is a muscle injury in the lower back. Quite painful, especially while sitting. Pretty ok while walking or standing. But it starts hurting a bit while trekking, climbing. This vacation gave us plenty to do just that. Every time we would go trekking it would start with a niggle. A lot of the walking was through narrow paths with a steep slide on one side. To make matters worse the walking was on dry leaves which aren’t exactly great for grip. Being daddy, I love the responsibility of holding Jispa through all this, and I was not going to let my back come in the way. So I was holding Jispa all the time. It is then I realized that a daughter’s hand is a magic wand. My back pain disappeared when I held her hand. How could my back pain when I have to take care of Jispa. It’s just not possible. Together we took on steep inclines, steps, jumps, slips and everything that Mother Nature threw at us. At one point in Jilling, we had hailstones coming down with the temperature dipping. But with my little magic wand in my hand we just kept going. No pain.
But this is not a one way street. After we came back, Jispa pretty much refused to sleep alone in the separate room. She kept trying to slip into our bed. She is now quite big and we all don’t fit, especially considering the painful back. It’s quite a task of convincing her. Now the new thing is that she will not sleep in her bed on her own. You have to lie down next to her and make her sleep. Once she is asleep, you can proceed to catch your sleep on your bed. You read a bit, she reads a bit. Then she closes her eyes and sleeps. She says if we are not there then she does not get sleep fast. It takes a lot of time. Yesterday while I was beside her, she was quite irritated. There was a song in her head which she just couldn’t shake off. I think it was Billo rani or something like that. With that song in her head at night, no wonder she was irritated. So then I read her a few stories, hugged her a bit, get hugged back in return and then she got her sleep. Magic works both ways.

The theme song for parenting is not so different from this evergreen song. Its also a solution to most parenting issues. Both ways!