What did the chicken tell the doctor?

“Dad?”, she asked while we were driving through some uneventful part of the journey in the morning. Its always fun to have a chat in the morning while I drop her off to her bus stop. You never really know what to expect… a song sometimes, a joke, an incident or a poem… and sometimes we get a moody silence. “yes” “dad, I will ask you a riddle?” “sure”. She and her school friends have gotten into this riddle thing with clever pun built in. a nudge had been provided in the right direction by their reading of the kiddie magazine called hoot. An example of the fare dished out is - what do you call a big mouse? – answer – enormouse. And more stuff there from where it came from. You have to hit the outstretched palm of the riddler to give up and get the answer. So most of the time you don’t win and more importantly you don’t know what to expect.
“Dad, what did the chicken say to the doctor?” errr… ehhhh… hmmm. ‘I give up. Tell me.” “No, you have to guess at least five times before you can give up” “huh”. Not fair… I don’t know shit of this but I know better than to argue. So I blurt out the only thing that comes to my mind “happy birthday?”, “no”, “happy anniversary?”, “no” “happy diwali”, “happy Christmas (sic)”, “happy new year”. “No, give up?” Ya sure… the five choices went off pretty fast eh? “Give up” I say and slap her outstretched hand. “The chicken tells the doctor – I think I have people pox”. Ha ha ha. “Nice one. You learnt it in the bus?” “No, I just thought of it”. “You sure” I thought she was kidding me for sure. “Ya, I was thinking about fever then I thought about chicken pox, then I thought about people pox, and then the riddle”. Hell that was pretty good. My daughter’s first real PJ riddle –

What did the chicken tell the doctor?
Doctor, I think I have people pox

I repeated it for sentimental value. Hehe.
I couldn’t help but get her to call Jasmine and get Jispa to throw the riddle at her, with five trys and et all.

breathe easy drive easy

Driving in Mumbai is a harrowing task and even the best of us I guess grow horns. It affects me in many ways that I thought impossible. Normally whenever I drive and I see some one trying to cross, especially the old and the ones with kids, I stop my car and signal them to cross. Sometimes I am rewarded with a smile. I even do that to a few women who seem to be lost right in the middle of the road. So that’s my good bit.
On the way home, there is some construction work happening for the monorail. This place has slums on the left and the construction has left very little space for the people to move. The footpath is obviously non existent. So we have tons of people on the road. Kids, women men everyone. I went honking honking getting them to move off the road. Then suddenly I realised what I was doing. I was honking to get a guy on crutches off my path. That’s unacceptable. While I stopped honking but the deed was done. It’s been difficult to control your irritation on these roads. It’s been difficult to relax while driving.
Today morning there was a school bus behind us, honking away to glory. A car is obviously faster than the bus and the reason I can’t drive faster is that there is a truck in front of me. I roll my window and request him not to honk via a hand signal. I overtake truck. He comes behind and then starts honking all over again. This is the limit. If he honks once more I will stop the car. HONK! Ok you asked for it. I stop the car in the middle of the road and the famous Doshi anger comes out in full volume. My baritone is used to good effect. Loud Jaimit voice can wake up neighbourhood – old jungle saying. I have seen this Zeus energy used by my dad and sometimes by my brother to good effect. My dad was a little hotter than it was right and I have tried my best to control my own streak. It’s far less but even one is one too many.
I also called the school later and lodged a complaint. You can’t drive like that and if you are a school bus you have no excuses. Absolutely none.
I guess the next time I will simply stop in front and alight and not utter a word. Silent satyagraha might be a better option.
That way Jispa’s school is pretty cool. I have never heard them honking. Even if you are late they simply call up and figure if you are coming and then they silently and patiently wait. The attendant also waits silently. He never gestures to any kid to run faster, au contraire he gestures to slow down. There is no rush. The kids climb in, he closes the door and the bus silently shifts into motion.
Taking a cue from that and an ad that says that driving in the 60 kmph band will help you save fuel, I drove nice and easy today. Patting my horns back inside my head, breathing easy, I realised that driving can be a form of yoga.

up close and personal

V-inu left his camera with me as it needs to be serviced for some minor issue. He also left his lenses. One of them is the favourite 50 mm f1.4 lens. Basically it’s a lens that gives some amazing depth of field. I got it to office to take some photos that we can put in the brochures. Some standard photos of telephones, laptops, handshakes, pens, globes etc... the standard clichés in all private banking brochures.
Its also a great lens for portraits. While I was fiddling with it in office I realised that I was taking some nifty photos of people up close. While some of the colleagues were enthusiastic, some others were really camera shy. After the enthusiastic ones got even more enthusiastic on seeing the results, the shy ones opened up. Then almost everyone was posing. Some will remain irritably shy. These are ones who seem to be so conscious of themselves and come up with the standard, I don’t look good in photos. I will somehow try to break them down today. But forgiven the odd one or two the others were so excited about their photos being taken. The results are quite nice and they love themselves. To see their smile is amazing. The glitter in their eyes when they see the screen is so heart warming. I think people are genetically tuned in to see their faces and other people faces. They love it. So I started shooting only close ups. The cheer that got spread was amazing. People clamouring to get their photos clicked. I so loved seeing them smile and laugh.
I am planning to click all these guys and then print them silently and one day in the morning, stick them all in the conference room on our floor. It would do wonders for their happiness that day. I am so sure.
So off I am clicking away. Will let you know what happens further.

cartoon hai

Yesterday before we went to see the zakir and shiv kumar sharma in a concert, we stopped by my mom’s house. That’s the big source of TV entertainment for my daughter. She gets in, gets comfy in front of the TV and can watch practically anything. But the big favourite with her is Tom and Jerry. She watch that anywhere for any length of time. That goes for me too. I too can watch that stuff forever.
The cartoons from my time as a kid are still being played and they are as relevant as ever. Probably the only thing looking dated is the rotary dial telephone. Rest all is so relevant. With some many things happening in such a short while it’s never a bore.
Yesterday she saw the title and straightaway told that this is a really funny one. She knows them by rote I guess. Once the cartoon started I realised that I knew the dam thing by rote as well. Now Tom is going to be hammered into the ground by the pole, now the ball will drop ahead of him, etc etc.
Schadenfreude is a universal ageless trait. But watching these cartoons with Jispa is even more fun. She goes on laughing and giggling while supplying her two bits. Its like watching it with a laughter track. Its gets really funny. The entire family ended up watching the dam thing and laughing like silly goofs.
Good thing before a classical music concert. In the second part of the concert, Shiv Kumar plays the light classical raga which left my wife and me thinking about the romance in the Yash Chopra films. A lot of those tunes reminded us of the songs that we have heard in those movies. Wonder why they went out of fashion? Listening to the santor made me picture the heroine in chiffon dancing in the cold and green valleys of Switzerland. Wah wah.. what romance.
Just for the heck of it, forgive me while I place these versus the song in the recent hit Wanted – your papa says you love me, your mama says you love me!
Whatever the music, I love the associations that they make in my head. An indian classical concert might trigger hindi movie emotions while the Zubin Mehta concert I went for triggered tom and jerry cartoons. Well that was the only place I hears them!

desktop's day in the sun

Wow…. Today my desk got some action. It was about time. A lot of guys came to my lap top to see it, ogle at it and go back feeling excited.
Normally my seat is at the edge of the office with hardly anyone coming in. the only thing that comes in regularly is sunlight. Baking my table and laptop. But I am not complaining. I kind of like the sun coming in. I see it as a cleanser?
So why did everyone come in today. Suddenly if figured that the sun coming right through the tinted glass outside onto my desktop, today reflected the solar eclipse. I never imagined that I will see my first solar eclipse with my seated on my humble chair in my humble office. Cool. My laptop is pleased as a punch. It is now feeling blessed or… is it cursed. That depends on its belief I guess. Where is it made in? Oh ok… it’s a Dell assembled in India. I guess then it’s a bit unenthused about it. Suppose I throw a few drops of water on it? Will it feel better? Well anyway. Here is the picture of the thing reflecting from the screen.

While we are on it, here is the hit little desktop thing that I bought from Jabalpur, near the marble rocks, for 50 bucks. Everyone loves it for its sheer simplicity. It is quite cute.

And this is what I wrote on the white board so that any one comes in asking questions gets a message. Now if the kids come in asking something I just look at the white board in front of me. They get the message and then rephrase the question as a statement. There. Now that’s better. Automatically you are forced to give a solution in the statement.

job blues

Today is a bloody irritating day. There is a simple task. We have to prepare for the annual report. There is a three line to do – meeting to finalise design route, date on which agency gives design, send to print. But no, we want to complicate the dam thing so we decide to break them down into chotu chotu components. Small small very small.. so the thing now runs into 44 rows on an excel sheet with roles and responsibilities assigned. I spent a gopod solid two hours figuring what all components will be there in all this. Graph design approach, Graphs with dummy data, graph with actual data, are actual entries in the dam thing. Wow. Talk about stupid stuff.
The trouble is because we don’t give simple responsibility and hold people accountable for work. But the flip today was on another thing. People don’t want to be accountable for work. I am tired of telling people not to keep me involved. This red line is right or should I remove it? what on earth. Do what you think is right, you bloody dim wit. Can I change some of the copy you have done? Minor correction..??? OFCOURSE . DO IT.
“Jaimit, I have one question.” “please don’t disturb me now, I am busy.. is it important?” “yes” “then tell it fast”. “I was speaking to x and telling him that we need to send this and then he told me that we can only send one option, but then we require two so I was telling that we need two, but he said that since we have one we need to confirm, so I was thinking which” “shut up and tell me fast. Have you learnt précis writing?” “Should we go with the red design or the plain design”. Oh god.. “is this important? Please go away”
I understand if your boss is a control freak. I understand if he hauls you over coals for taking decisions without his help, but I am driving everyone crazy telling them not to come to me. Come to me if you have screwed up. Come to me, if you don’t understand. Don’t come to me if you don’t have an opinion. Don’t come with a problem, please come with solution and spit it out fast. Bak bak bak…I have told them clearly… if want to rated as a manager then behave like one. If you want me to take your calls and your job is to just ask questions, then you will be rated as such. Here I am trying to build a team that thinks on its own and people just don’t want to take responsibility.
In continuation with today’s bad string of affairs, I had to make the design for eth quarterly announcement. Our CEO talks of equanimity and the need to be stable within the volatile economic environment. I decided to draw an image that best represents this. Taking inspiration from Jessica Hagy who does some outstanding illustrations on her site http://thisisindexed.com/, I tried my little feeble attempt. People did not get it. Its not that people have failed, I as a creative have failed. Of course it’s ok. I am not supposed to be the smart creative but I thought this was very cool and was proud of this, but I guess not.

pongal

Today morning as I was driving down Jispa to her bus stop we saw hordes of ladies all dressed up and trying to celebrate something. All of them looked south Indian and they were accompanied by the children. From a truck near by the men were unloading some sugarcane. I was wondering what is. Jispa was wondering as well. Suddenly I remembered … “Jispa today is the 14th. Right?” yes it sure was. Today is the 14th of Jan. Makarsankranti or Pongal as it is known in different parts of India. I recollected a chapter in my hindi 5th standard textbook on pongal. How today the women wake up in the morning and cook pongal.
There all of the women (from the slum on route) were together celebrating Pongal. All of them had put a few bricks and started a fire over which they were they were cooking pongal. I explained the same to Jispa. I asked her if she knew what pongal was. She didn’t know. So I looked at the watch and saw that we have some time. We in any case leave a bit early to feed biscuits to cute cute bingo (a stray dog). So I told her that today lets try and eat pongal. I knew that some of the south Indian restaurants in matunga would be serving some today morning. I rushed into one (Ramsahraya) and ordered pongal. As it came, I realised that I too did not really know what on earth was pongal. I knew it’s was some rice thing, but I was not sure if its sweet or salty, thick or liquidy… whatever. As it came it was a gob of a dish in the shape of the bowl that was probably used to measure the portion. As I ate I figured, this is not Jispa’s favourite dish. It’s a simple salty rice dish what we commonly call in our language ‘khichadi’. Jispa had a few purely out of excitement. She did not exactly relish it. after some time she tells me that it is just like dal rice. Ya… I tell her ‘its actually like khichadi’. Yaaaa…. Her final reaction with a slightly upturned face (Jasmine will not like this) – “this straightaway takes me to dinner.”

Makarsankranti is a lovely festival that oen needs to be in gujarat to really enjoy with the millions of kites in the skies and every one on the terrace. I had the fortune of being there on while I was placed these in Balsara, and the first occasion I had I took Jispa and Jasmine to my cousin’s place in Rajkot, around four years ago. It fell on a Sunday then. I guess going every six odd years to Gujarat to celebrate this will not be such a bad idea. Enough gap even for the cousins to feel pretty welcoming.

the case of the samosa and the tough university security

We have our office bang opposite the Mumbai university campus, we often go there for a bite. It has so many canteens. At the last count I counted were four. The whole place is like an oasis and campus is so serene. The trees completely cancel out the noise and it is a large sprawling place. The architecture and layout is completely awry. Suddenly modern newer structures stand alongside old depilated ones. One canteen is air-conditioned while another is a heated mess. It’s a nice walk especially when you are completely fed up of your office environs. I have been there a quite a few times, obstinately for the samosas but really for the place. Forests need neglect to survive.
Here I can hear the barbet and the crows and see some mynas fly. In the morning you can catch a few bulbuls fluttering around. But I am not sure if I did want a campus like this. The air is so lethargic that I am sure nothing would ever get done. The over all feeling is not of dynamism but that of babudom. Nothing planned but spurts and bouts of budgets being allotted.
Today morning I was in the mood for a deep fried calorific samosa. With some really unhealthy ugly chatni. Every canteen has its own chatni, some red, some white, some green. The colour is normally never an indicator of the spice component as well. That is jack in the box that springs on you. So we went to the university. They seemed to have some extra measure of checks on this time. No one was being allowed in without being questioned. All rickshaws and cars in were being stopped. All those entering the campus were being asked to show the I-cards. Oh god. Here goes my samosa I thought. But then there is hope. If the Obama’s party can be gate crashed then university should be a breeze. Just look important and walk across giving some answer. What answer, one would only be able to trust ones wit, when one is confronted with it. No amount of preparing would have helped you. As me and a colleague approach with trepidation, I removed my office I-card and put it in my pocket. As hit the gate we were stopped by the security. Oh shit. ‘Where do you want to go?’ Obviously we didn’t look like students. “To the canteen” my colleague answered. I was quiet. He seemed to be the stern guy and one disinterested guy and one spokesperson seemed to be a good strategy to deal with these characters. If anything went wrong I could be the good cop from the duo and save the day. The guard was still stern on getting the answer. “Why are you going to the canteen” he asked, almost bawled. What could we answer? What would be smart enough to get us through? Should be just turn around and run, or make a dash for it? Will he chase? A million answers and scenarios flashed through my mind. I could see my samosas flying away from me. “Why are you going to the canteen” My colleague retained his presence of mind (bless him) and answered without blinking “to eat, what else”. The guard looked at the right hand top corner of his eye for a second and then, with an upcurled lips (we were going to be so screwed), he nodded his ascent and waved us on.
That’s it. The samosas were yum.

wake up Jis

How can any one sleep through this? Put this on full volume and see….. especially if the stuff is playing next to your ears.



Jispa did not move a bit. She did not even bother to cover her ears or move away from the source. After five minutes Jasmine had had enough and wanted to shut this, so I had to wake Jispa my self. Some experiments last for a few minutes, some for a few days. Sometimes duds are strewn in the oath of the Hero’s journey, as he hurtles towards her destiny, with a step there, a step back and some meandering about.

This youtube is a pretty cool thing. It is quite useful thanks to the millions of people who are using it to say / teach something. Jispa’s sports day is fast approaching and she is the fastest girl in her class. Since I never did sprint for a living, I barely know its technique and science. So I try googling and picked up some videos on youtube. It was pretty interesting. One of the most important things that I knew were there put dint know how to use them, was the lean and the use of the foot (ball of the foot versus the heel) while running. Yup. Sure enough. I now am able to make minor corrections in her running. I will never know enough to be able to correct her technique too much but for a seven year old, this is good enough. There some basics, if you get them, right it should work for you.

One thing that works in all sports is head position. No matter which sport you play your head cant be falling off. It always needs to be still and stable, with minimum movement. Once the head moves the balance and coordination is lost. Except in cricket I don’t see too many coaches talking about the benefits of a still head but without fail most spots I see the champions play with a rock solid still head with minimal movement. Even while running I was telling Jispa, in your effort to run faster ensure you don’t move your head from side to side.

wakey wakey time

An nth tryst with Jispa waking up is in progress. Jispa wants to grow up and that means waking up on her own with an alarm. Good noble intentions. So she said that I should not wakr her up but merely put an alarm next to her and she would wake up on her own. Fair. I agree.
So day 1 I wake up on my alarm and press snooze. After which I put it net to her. In five minutes it rings…. Rings… rings… no effect. I put it closer to her... ring… no effect. I put it on her ears… ring … ring… no effect. Then I wake her up myself. I am ok with this, but the growing up by waking on her own is a thing she is having with mom, not me. So in the evening Jispa and mommy are having this conversation. Jispa tells me to hold the alarm near her ear. “but that’s exactly what I did”. “then papa, you should change the alarm. This is your alarm. If I hear that I think its you who has to wake up.” Ok. Lets see day 2.
Day 2 I wake up, shut the alarm and go to Jispa. I look at my playlist on the cell phone.. hmmm… a talk by the economist, nopes… aahhh… here. That should do. Bat out of hell by Meatloaf, the original 10 minute version. That should give her adequate time. It starts loud with heavy guitar and piano. Immediately Jispa wakes up and sits up. Then onto the bathroom she goes.
Very good.
Day 3 I wake up and do the same. This time the song required a full 2 minutes to wake her up. And then wait for her to sit up post which I hug my teddy for some time before sending her to bath. Mommy and Jispa have a conversation where I am called in as the prime witness. I testify and mommy says nopes. You have to get up on own completely. Jispa says ok. But I am not happy that means I have to leave the alarm and walk away from my morning teddy. Not fair. It’s the warmest teddy hug on a cold morning. So reach compromise. She wakes up and then walk to the chair where I will sit and wait for her, so it’s proved that she has woken up on her own without me after which she hugs me and I pack her to the bathroom.
Parenting… kya kya karna padtha hai.

headache

On Sunday I read some article by a critic on how lonely it is to be a critic. He thought 3 idiots was a flawed film. And he was castigated by all and sundry, especially since it was such a huge hit. Well interesting. Criticizing a hit film is always difficult. I have always been faced with the same issue and have been at odds with most others on this.
In any case my taste in movies is slightly off, than most others. I hated the movie ‘black’ which everyone raved about. Some guy even released an ad in the papers praising the movie. I thought it sucked and it gave me a headache. Yup movies and I have this headache thing quite often.
The recent one was ‘ajab prem ki gazab kahani’. I thought it was a complete ham. Result – big hit. I think Akshay is a complete ham. Another big hit. Except Hera Pheri I think most of Priyadarshan’s movies are a ham – a lot of them hits. I thought Guru was nice but the ending made me sleep. I also thought it was the greatest white wash in Hindi cinema history. People came out with a complete different view. I like rocket singh and dilli 6. Both bombed. So that’s a short history of my film appreciation skills.
So most of the time I come out and keep my mouth shut. How did you like the movie? ‘well, I don’t know, nice I guess’ or something like “in my opinion, it was nice though it might not be appealing to all” or “ tp” or some other such diplomatic stuff such as “nice acting”, ‘good locales”, ‘nice body” or even “deadly effects”. I don’t like lying so I try the ‘weaseling’.
For the record 3 idiots was a nice fun movie but it was a horribly flawed movie with too much preaching. I am nowhere near the gushing reviews. I am with the critic here.
And yes I almost forgot the movie ‘kaminey’. Liked by critics and audience alike. I was – I dunno, nice movie, interesting, but it gave me a headache.

self torture

I have taken to a new torture. While playing squash I had hurt my back and it seems to have never completely recovered. So to strengthen it I started swimming. The only window I could fit into my schedule was after dropping Jispa to the bus stop. I rush to the gymkhana at 8 for a quick 15 minute swim and then out, shower and hit office by 9. It was fine when I started this in around end November. These days with the temperature dipping I find myself the lone ranger in the pool at 8 in the morning. The water is nice and cold. I figure the best way is to dive right in and get your whole body wet as fast as possible and then furiously start the swimming. Then for some reason, (probably the breeze) after a lap or two, the water is warmer than the air outside.
For someone like me who has bath only with hot (really hot) water all through the year, even in summer, this is unreal. Earlier I never liked swimming as I hated cold water, but now I realise that the reason was that we hardly swam. It was just a place to laze around and do precious nothing. One lap and then relax for ten minutes. Now in the pool I like to get in, swim swim swim, and then get out. Unless of course it’s Goa!
Also what has helped was the really ridiculous looking swimming cap my wife got for me. When she first got it, I refused to wear it but then I slowly came around to appreciating it. This cap was shaped in a way that you cover your ears while you wear it, making you entire head water proof. With ears and head covered, the coldwater is much more bearable.
Since two days the swimming pool attendants are looking at me as if some real hard core nut has come to swim. Today she was wearing a sweater and her assistant had covered her ears with a 70‘s style muffler. If they thought that would psyche me out … they surely did a dam good job about it. But I put on my trusty ear covering cap and blanked out all the noise around me. Splash, swim, away we go.

bookish

Sometimes you get good books and sometimes you get bad books. Invariably the bad ones are slow to read and the good ones finish fast. One wants to pick up and read at all times and the reading time per pickup also improves. Sometimes there are a string of duds and sometimes the batting average just shoots up. I generally try and read one book at a time these days. In the good old days that I used to travel by train, I would have one for the train and the other for the night. So I always try and have one or two books ready to read after I have finished one. In fact the best pressure to read is when you are reading a good book and you have another promising read as a follow up. The second book pushes me to read the first one faster. I feel like a kid at Christmas Eve dying to tear open the wrapper early morning on his gifts. He can’t wait for the night to get over.
When you have a string of these lined up the reading rate gets pushed amazingly high. That’s why I keep the in line books at my bedside. They encourage me to read much more. Sometimes sacrificing a bit of sleep in the process.
Every time we travel in the train I used to see the James Hadley chase books at the book stores. I wondered what they would be like. At the time Johny Gaddar was released, it was said to have been inspired by the JH Chase series. The movie was fast with things happening constantly. From then on I wanted to read atleast one of these books. Having been a late starter in reading, the spy novels and other fictions completely passed me by. I never felt the use or the pleasure of reading fiction, especially spy fiction. So this time when we went to Jabalpur, I managed to pick up a James Hadley Chase novel at a railway book shop. Now I know why it’s a bog hit. Straight story line with fast pace and simple English. I was a bit disappointed with the s+ex in it. There isn’t any! It is limited to ‘he then had a ravishing night with her’. That’s it. The least I thought that these books could do was give two pages of description. I mean else could enliven dull train journeys for the multitude of passengers. But this is strictly James Bond stuff. Lovely women, handsome men, 30 minutes of foreplay and suggestion and 2 seconds of the real thing. Haha. The plot was bumkum and it plays out like a b grade thriller. It did take some patience for me to get through with it. I wanted to know what happens at the end. Answer – nothing really.
On books – when we got the raddi wala to come home and take the old newspapers, we also asked him if he takes old books. Will he pay per piece? He said nopes, he pays per kilo except …. if it is a mills and boon. That is something he will pay per piece. That still manages to sell. Rest is raddi. Ooh. My poor historians, philosophers and management consultants. You might be worth your weight in gold but your words don’t match up to the humble mills and boon. Which reminds me of my favourite saying – the markets can be wrong longer than you can remain solvent.

equanimity

My CEO writes a letter to all employees at the start of a New Year. He is a really sharp guy and he sees the situation much better than most others. But of course sometimes I like them and sometimes I don’t. This year was a letter I liked. We have had one roller coaster of a ride in the last few years. An orgy followed by a purge.

I will let his words talk now
“There are two important lessons we have learnt over the years. One, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Two, when things look good, they are not as good as they look. And when things look bad, they are not as bad as they look.
In 2006-2007, we all felt extremely exuberant. We dramatically increased manpower and costs as if there was no tomorrow. Things looked good. But they were not as good as they looked. The threat of the global financial crisis was lurking in the shadows.
From October 2008 to March 2009, things looked bad. In hindsight, they did not turn out as bad as they looked. Thanks to an extraordinary effort of intervention by big governments, the world managed to avert what seemed like a retread of the Great Depression.
The key is not to get carried away on the way up or on the way down. We probably sprinted too fast in 2006-07 and probably slammed the brakes too hard in 2008-09. The ideal path is building at a decent trot and growing steadily.
It is perhaps worth noting that you cross many milestones in a marathon and none in a sprint (unless you are Usain Bolt and the sprint is itself the milestone).
If I had to encapsulate our desired temperament in one word, that word would be equanimity.”

My big lesson on life has been that the first step towards change is to look at yourself and admit to yourself the mistakes you have made. Then only can you look to change and improve. Here the great man admits to his learnings from the ride.
Also I loved the last word take away. Equanimity: The state of being calm, stable and composed, especially under stress. The ‘especially under stress’ words actually belie the truth. One needs to be calm and stable against a seemingly irresistible force. These forces can be interpreted as positive or negative. A stable mind is required both ways. Basically it is the mind that does not get carried away.
Another incident comes to mind: Once my team was under severe stress and we went to our boss. The boss very wisely said that right now you look at it and it looks very large. Wait and watch as time passes by. This problem will over a period of time look very small and you will wonder what the fuss was all about.

grace

2010 is a good time to write some end of year bores. You get them in all papers and just about everywhere. I can’t read one more story on New Year resolutions. But since it’s also the end of a decade, a lot more newsprint gets devoted to rubbish sepia. But for me the year end would mean something special always. This date acts as a proof in my life that being brave and stupid is better than being scared and intelligent. Discretion is not the better part of valour. It was on this date 20 years ago, I first spoke to Jasmine; and the first words were something of a proposal.
After which I have always told would-be-Romeos and would-be-Juliets that if it is in your hearts, bring it to your lips. Better to speak out your heart and face rejection than to think of what could have been.
As a 14 year old my heart was pumping hard and my hormones clouded my brain and I still sometimes wonder what my dad would have done to me if Jasmine had complained instead of being sweet. Also now I wonder what would have happened if I had a tight slap in return? But life knows its destiny and it hurtles towards it. (wisdom of oogway). Just for the record she refused and it took another year and more of following to finally wriggle a yes. (Tenacity? but that is another story).
So I can look back on twenty years and wonder about the various phases we have had together. The first four and half years of being together but hiding from her parents. The next few of being together but slightly unsure about how our life will unfold in terms of career etc. The next few of setting it up. Then Jispa and then the least three years of staying and setting up our nuclear family.
Superficially we are very different but at so many levels we are the same. There seems to be no set formula or philosophy to make it work. I think all it needs is the will to make it work.
God has been good so far. We sometimes wonder when, with him, we will find ourselves afoul.

many idoits

I had seen 3 Idiots over the weekend. It’s quite a cute funny movie but quite frankly I cant quite agree with eth gush of compliments that its been receiving. I for one found it a bit too preachy. Surely the actors have done a great job but the script was not as great as I thought it would be. They even incorporated a huge bunch of internet jokes doing the rounds. But this is not a blog about movies. I leave that for the experts.
Watching 3 idiots one big growing up grouse came to my mind. Letters to family and remarks for the parents to sign off. This was the single biggest stress tool that the school used to get the child to be disciplined. I so freaking hated it. The shame associated with it was so large and the scare that one would have trying to anticipate the parents reaction. It is so freaking silly. Talking in class – bad remark, not in line – bad remark, did not do homework – bad remark, your partner broke the lab equipment – bad remark, eating in class – bad remark… and this one was my favourite.. I got a rap for being too enthusiastic in class. The teachers got some real pleasure in calling parents to class and in the principal’s office and making them cry and plead. It was a ego boosting ceremony. If the child smashed your ego, get the parents to set it right. Can’t you solve the freaking problem yourself? Aren’t you like paid and qualified to deal with children, without getting their parents involved.
My dad was once called into school. The reason was that I was arguing with the teacher. I was right (at least I thought so) and that the teacher was needlessly picking on me. This was in ninth standard. I had a higher sense of right and wrong versus some other students and I was a rebel to start with. Always inspired by Gandhi and other Amar Chitra Katha characters, I would not stand for something that I did not believe in, which I knew to be wrong. So I stood ground and entered into a verbal duel. The teacher did the next thing, call you father. I want to speak to him. This time I was not scared. I was right. I chatted with my dad. He heard me and did the best thing he should have. He explained to me while I might have been right it is improper to argue like that with the teacher. He came in and had a nice conversation with the teacher and closed the issue.
I don’t expect Jispa to be scared of me while doing some kidas in school and college. That cannot be her stick for discipline. Missing a homework assignment can’t be a reason for a scolding. Talking in class? Go ahead… arguing with authority – be smart about it. I would like her to do what she wants to. This is obviously not a blanket approval for her to do anything but it is an assertion that I am surely not scolding her for minor deemed transgressions. Especially when it comes to basic schooling and studies. Fiddling with substances – no that a serious issue. Holding hand with boyfriend? – come sit down, let me tell you what all I did.
These sound simplistic, especially when you have a relatively milder kid in the form of Jisa. She typically has no issue with authority (so far) and does not really test parenting. Who knows what happens when the tide changes. Sometimes parents would need to assert themselves more strongly. I only hope that I think through before I do that. I only hope I am aware of the environment when I take these calls. I hope I first see what was my fault in all this, what was the teachers fault and how we can first correct ourselves. I have seen enough of parents and teachers punishing children what I essentially see as their fault. Most of the time it’s a tripartite responsibility.
But of course, life in educational institutes seem to have moved on in some places and have retained their ‘culture’ in others. Her schooling has been a lot more evolved that what I had. And I hope her college had evolved as well. Even in my management college one of the profs wanted to scare us telling he will write letters to parents. To such characters, and those that will come in my daughter’s life, I have only one message for you – up yours.

santa who

I think I have spoken about this before. Jispa is at an age where she does not really know whether to believe in santa or no. As I had explained to her once. What does it matter if he is real or not. If you believe it, it’s real, if you don’t, don’t bother. While I really did not expect her to get it, she actually understood what I meant. So she is largely indifferent to a lot of this ‘is Santa for real theory’. Ditto for the tooth fairy. This year Santa did not come visiting her. Not because she was not a good girl, nor was is it that she did not believe, but for eth simple fact that she was a satisfied kid. When we asked in advance for what she wanted from Santa, ‘nothing’ came the reply. Was she sure. Yup she was. She did not want anything for Christmas. So that’s what she ended up getting from Santa.
This year we were not in town as well. Suddenly she remembered that she normally left some cookies and muesli and milk for Santa and his reindeer. So she asked me ‘we did not leave anything for him this time, but he will open the fridge and have it himself, right?’ again it is difficult to tell you if she was just playing along or she actually believed this stuff. I think it’s a case of happily ignoring possibilities and focussing on the fun. I replied saying, since you haven’t asked for anything, he isn’t coming. ‘oh ok’ and that closed the chapter on Santa I assume.
While I suspect Jispa is largely a satisfied character, not wanting too much, I nevertheless asked Jasmine ‘is she really that satisfied or we thoroughly spoilt her by giving her a lot, so that she does not want anything’. ‘she is generally the satisfied types’ replied Jasmine, reaffirming my belief in Jispa’s core trait. She s the understanding types as opposed to the ‘I want’ types.
On the subject of gifting, Jispa and I were playing the ‘I spy’ game in her new and extremely cute book ‘where’s hanuman’. Here you need to spot hanuman along with a bunch of other characters in different scenes from the Ramayana, drawn on a double page. The artists seem to be suffering from a hangover of Astrix comics going by the type of fun the characters seem to be having on the pages. So after I played a while, I was helping jasmine with some work. Jispa wanted to play on, but I told her to solve the I spy clues by herself. On a lark I promised her a gift if she did one full page. It was a lot of obscure spotting stuff: ring, discuss, man flat on ground, man in water etc etc. She completed the task, so before a movie I took her to crosswords and asked her to choose any book she could under 100 bucks. She picked on the adventures of suppandi. A comic book compilation from the tinkle comics series. 80 bucks. Suppandi is big hit with her friends as well. It seems they share Supandi jokes in the bus. As a kid, I loved him as well.
But a simple book, here again she was mighty satisfied.

Thanks Jispa for making parenting that much easier.

Two assorted santa links for further reading:-
http://communities.canada.com/vancouversun/blogs/parenting/archive/2009/12/14/santa-claus-myth-children-harmful.aspx
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091209/ap_on_re_us/us_fea_lifestyles_letters_to_santa

my insensitive avatar

I saw the movie avatar yesterday. At the IMAX flat screen in 3D. I suspect these movies need not be seen in 3D. It seems to be the latest Hollywood scam. For some reason I don’t particularly enjoy the 3D googles. First I hate the fact that I have to really clean the grubby sticky pop corn fingerprints from the lens. Then they seem give me a mild headache. So thanks to that many times in between I keep removing them, and voila… the scene is as pretty. Any who has seen the floating mountains scene without the 3D will also love the visual spectacular. Avatar and others seem to be movies that were converted to 3D as a last minute decision. So while you see the depth but there is no real need to see it in 3D. I guess there is no point in 3D unless you have things flying at you and keeping the third dimension well utilised. Almost all who saw India first 3D movie – Chota chetan, will invarialbly remember the scene in which the protagonist offers the melting ice cream cones that come right at you. Wow… even the alice in wonderland trailers show the magic of 3D where they keep throwing stuff at you. One movie I liked in 3D was monsters versus aliens.
But why am I making such a hullabaloo over this? Real reason: The price of the ticket was 350 bucks a head. Luckily Jispa wasn’t interested so we went while she was at garnny’s house. I weigh the movie by the price tag. 700 bucks for jasmine and me, plus a 220 for the soup and ginger rice. Was it worth a grand? … hold on…220 for what? Well at imax, we always go to Zenzibu and order some soup and rice. The special part begins here, we ask or it to be served to our seats around 30 minutes into the movie. So right in the middle of the movie the guy sends us hot food, while treading on everyone else’s toes, while the movie is on. Hopefully (for the others) it’s not a delicate time of the movie’s narrative. So in the cold theatre we get our warm lovely tasty soup.
But did I tell you the best part? Zenzibu is a south east asian joint. So yes the aromas are packed inside the food waiting to be released in the cinema hall as soon we get the lid off. I am sure that disturbs everyone else. But what the hell, at a net cost of a grand I am having my soup and eating it too.

the jungle

Hiya…. Back after a one week break. Had been to kanha national park. The best place in India to see the tiger. The tiger is a magnificent animal. He walks with a grace that is unseen and a disdain for the tourists in the open jeeps. The fear and the excitement is palpable when a bunch of jeeps come face to face with the tiger. The tiger cares two hoots about your presence as he goes about lazing in eth sun or scratching his claws, peeing in the sand or even as we saw him licking sand.

But going to a national park to see the tiger is missing the point. I hate the safaris that run in search of the tiger. The only aim is to take you from point A to point B as fast as possible so as to get you to see the tiger. The jungle has many splendours to show the willing senses. There is so much to hear, see, smell and feel. A simple case in point – seeing a tiger is one thing but we had the opportunity to hear the calss before we could spot it. We heard calls and then saw the spotted deers with their tails up, erect, looking in a particular direction. This gave us the direction of the tiger. But is still only half the point, or a smaller fraction thereof. Kanha is such a lovely jungle. Going into the jungle in your open jeeps early in the morning with mist all around was unforgettable. I am pretty weird, of all that I saw I will remember the mist and the sunlight falling through the trees, leaves and the tall bamboo grass. The mist was doing the job of the haze machines, which spread smoke in concerts so that you see the light effects.

Jasmine and I have over time learnt the perils of mammal spotting. Contract that with the beautiful abundance of bird life in all their form, colour and crests. Rarely do we return unhappy from a jungle. We love seeing the jungle for all that it is. We love seeing the spider webs, the gigantic ones that spread from one tree to another and the tiny ones that are on the floor and catch trap the morning mist in the form of dew in its web. We loved spotting the red headed vulture gliding above in the sky with its huge wings outstretched. We love the interpretation zone where a lot of the jungle is explained with exhibits and details.

One thing that pleases me no end is the fact that Jispa has developed a love for museums. So she wanted to go through the interpretation zone the second time as well and see and absorb the exhibits. You can’t hurry her through this. She like to wait, see, understand before moving on.

Jasmine and I can see the birds for hours on end. Stopping to soak in the scenery and jungle. This experience was in marked contrast to the one we had at Ranthambore where the bloody canter drove like a maniac for the entire trip across the jungle in an attempt to catch the elusive tiger. We learnt nothing about the jungle, nothing about the trees, birds and felt nothing for the environment. the guide was also quite pathetic and knew nothing. The best naturalists / guides we had so far encountered were in Bharatpur bird park. Kanha also had their fair share of trained naturalists. Guys who could reel of bird names, tree names, their latin names, and most important… they would enthral us with stories about the wildlife behaviour, the plant characteristics and even jungle life (including Jim Corbet stories). When you are in a safari the excitement is not linear, there are spurts followed by lulls. It here that a good guide with his stories makes an impact. After enough of India bashing, these experiences come as fresh air. These guys are trained by the forest officials and the tourism department. They are eager minds who learn from their tourists as well.

As most good guides tell you that a lot is learnt purely interacting with tourists as some come with books, some with some knowledge and some are clear experts who teach them while looking around. A mutually benefiting interaction in the jungle. What more can I ask for?

For the record we saw the tiger in three of our five safaris. A fantastic stroke of luck aided by good tiger density and lovely expanse of grasslands. Also for the record we saw a bird that eluded jasmine and me for some time – the greater racquet tail Drongo. Supposedly fairly available even in borivili national park but this one has eluded us for long. The bird becomes even more special as we see its quite boring cousin the black drongo on almost every wire stretching alongside the length of India.

And one more amongst my favourite is the yellow footed green pigeon. Invariably found as groups on dead barren trees basking in the morning and evening sun. They make a pretty sight in the lovely yellow light, contrasting against a clear blue sky. I remember taking some nice photos of them in Gir. They might there in the one TB of storage that we have at home.

Another big experience was not having the camera with me. I have learnt that the best thing to do on trips is not to carry any sort of camera. It takes away from the trip. What is the point of seeing a beautiful sunset through the viewfinder or the tiger through a LCD screen. Why should I fiddle with the moment. I happily stopped taking photos. I had carried my camera because Jispa wanted to but then I gave it to some another person who wanted the thrill of clicking away. The first day I clicked a few really bad shots of the tiger. The next day after I gave it away, I saw the tiger entirely with my own eyes. NO VIEWFINDER. I might remember that moment better. Ok I might not. But I lived it better for sure.

Last note – I now understand what inspired Rudyard to write the jungle book. It seems it is set in Kanha.

the pivot

In the movie Rocket Singh don’t miss the receptionist. And don’t miss the power she wields. After a decade in the corporate life I have come to acknowledge the power wielded by the receptionists and the secretary. Typically offices like to hire pretty things as secretaries. Sometimes you get dud heads with little brains and sometimes you get some real smart chicks stuck there. The smart ones slowly control the entire office.
As in the movies the lady is typically a housewife with unfulfilled ambitions. She knows she is capable of much more but circumstances ensured she became a receptionist. I know many such ladies. But they work hard and become power centres in their own right. Very rightly in small offices they double up as secretaries, receptionists, tele-callers and customer care officials. More likely than not they like to dress up and look like barbie dolls. Don’t miss the multi color highlights and the over done make up. Its bang on.
As it happens in the movie, you enter the reception to see the lady constantly busy and ignoring you and then putting you onto the right person. She has an aura around her that says, look but do not come in too close or I will bite. The faces they make to show their frustration while their make remains perfect all through the day. I suspect their compact is always handy. The lipstick is never smudged and the nails… don’t miss the well done manicured nails. I have seen all sorts of colors on their nails.
And while you get shunted to some corner she doesn’t seem to care a bit even if shit happen to you. She is ignorant of you. She sees you as the next young thing trying to hit on her.
But don’t mistake the exterior for the inner core. When I was all alone in Balsara, I only had the receptionist for company. She was the only one who spoke to me, smiled at me, almost empathising with eth situation. It happened at many other places. Whenever you are alone its her who gives you company and understands the shit you are going through. Her vantage position gives her an unparallel power and insight into office politics. She can quietly give you tips and some insights in getting you back on your feet. Never ever mess with the receptionist or the secretary. NEVER.
Another scene, you have the sales manager flirting with the secretary and getting an appointment. First the cold look, then the gradual wear down, smile… bang... work done, then the sales guy leaves and the secretary utters a ‘stupid’ or something to the effect. She knows you are flirting with her just to get the work done. She shows he knows the game then acknowledges that she doesn’t mind the attention. Then again after she helps you she gets back by calling you a name. Oh man… I have seen this so many times in my sales life. I always try and talk properly to the receptionist and say thank you when we get to go in, then again when I leave. Always smiling. It helps the second time around you are there. And in sales, you almost invariably are always there again.
The game changes as you get older. From an upstart winning her over, you are now a senior person giving her rightful importance. But the flirting remains.
One incident comes to mind. We were trying to get speakers for a conference in Geneva. One guy we wanted was the India head of the one of the world’s largest PE players. Due to company interconnectivity issues, he couldn’t say no directly, but he did not want to come. Try as we might we couldn’t get him online to talk to him. My colleague got tired as she could only get the secretary. I took the job on myself. I got through the secretary, introduced myself as the vice president (my design is useful for such things) and used the deep baritone (my natural baritone is useful as well). And then if you speak slowly and purposefully you sound like some real big guy. Then I did the next thing… I did not ask for the boss, I just simply chatted up with her. I explained why her boss is required for the speaker, why her company and mine are so connected, I explained to her the politics involved and why her boss wouldn’t say no if I involve my biggest boss in the game etc. Then I forwarded my mail to her. She spoke to her boss and a confirmation came through. Then my colleague took it on correspondence with her boss. This is not the end. Closer to the event, the boss wrote a mail to my colleague saying he might not coming as he has some conflicting appointments. MAYDAY MAYDAY. The SOS came to me. I quickly got onto the call and spoke to my secretary. We spoke and the she got back and said that the boss was wondering if he could cancel (from NO to wondering – big start). Some quick thinking and I replied… well, he can always say no but we have already mailed the invites and we would then need to go back saying that the speaker has changed. That would be a bad thing nah? (The invites had truly gone). She understood and got back the next day. The boss will come. Yahoo…
The first time I spoke to her boss was in Geneva 10 minutes before the conference.
I got crowned the king of secretaries in my office. The colleague says it was a case of male female dynamics. I disagree… it’s a case of giving people their due importance. We just consider them as people who transfer calls and book tickets. We don’t recognise the implicit power they wield and the potential they have in them. It works in spite of your sex. But too many women don’t give other women their due. It might come easy for the men to flirt with the women, but that is too simplistic an assumption. Giving people importance in their filed no matter how trivial it looks is a thing you must not ignore. Everyone has pride in what they do. In the movie Rocket gives people their importance. He calls the peon by his full name, which is a big thing. He gets you tea, but he gets it to you fast and does not spit in it. Appreciate that. but peons is another blog by itself.
Coming to the secretary/ receptions it she knows exactly what is going on in the office and also can help you with the loopholes. The movie is right. Some of that stuff is not so far fetched as it might seem. If the boss hates you are screwed but she can help you, but if she hates you, you are screwed and you have no recourse. It was nice knowing you.
In the movies Gauhar Khan as the recpetionist has done a better job than I suspect she knows. And I suspect no critic will give her due credit for this. It was perfectly cast with the perfect look. Sure there are a million receptionist that don’t look anywhere near her, but as far as typecasts goes, she was awesome. Try as I might I couldn’t get one still of her in the movie. If her publicist is reading this – can you please send me a pic of her from the movie? Preferably a pic with her on her office table, talking on the phone?
In the movies they also show the receptionist threatening the boss that she will set the credit card guy on him… but it’s true that they really help you duck calls, lie for you, get good meeting rooms for you, set up protectors and generally help you in many ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
If you are visiting another office a sweet receptionist can also ensure a note gets sent or a reminder call is made if you are waiting too long for your meeting. They can get the senior most guy to meet you in good time.
In many ways willy nilly, they are the pivot around which the entire office revolves. Don’t get the pivot on your wrong side.