keep roaming

Travelling for research takes a toll on the mind and body. Intensive research days involve back to back meetings at clients place, all over the city. These are interspersed with time spent in the car getting from one place to another. The car rides kill the back and the meetings while being fun are completely stressful. One is writing notes, thinking hard, connecting dots and trying to make sense of the entire conversation. Sometimes one meets disgruntled clients who don’t want to open up at all. Some want a solution right now, some want it later, some don’t care. Talking to them, putting them at ease and making conversation that is enlightening and illuminating to both is a real challenge and of course a memorable experience.
No matter how bad the interview and how tired I get, I always make it a point to learn something more about the consumer and his business in addition to what I might need to know from my products point of view. Thanks to this, in this research I got to know about car dealerships, bike dealerships, lubricant distribution, truck transportation, quarrying and much more. These rae incidents that I may forget over time and then these are incidents that will be in my memory for a long time to come. Some become the shining example that I will recall again and again ad use it to prove my point.
This research and conversation shapes me as an individual. We are shaped by how we interact with our environment and these interactions help push our knowledge base. This also helps me push the boundaries of who I am. I dare say that intensive research changes me as a person. Definitely as a marketing person but more so as a human. The constant humility one needs to have while talking to clients is something that seeps inside my brains. I am in a receptive mode. A mode that says no matter what I think, the consumer is right. He is trying to tell you something. Please keep your prejudices and biases aside and listen carefully. It is truly a humbling feeling especially for someone who might be… no correction, for someone who IS as naturally egoistic as me. So I go about this research trying to understand what my clients say and I understand a bit of what I might be or hope to be.
Any one saying anything during this mental state seems to have a larger more profound response from me that what I might have naturally given. My mind is open to so much stimuli, that at one level I find it exhilarating and at the other level I find it very draining. I so love being able to do research. Especially since this is a multi city thing.
In the past I have travelled to many cities but have been holed up in the hotel rooms. I haven’t ventured too much outside and I have not ventured out to taste the local cuisine and interesting places to eat. Then came the recession in the year 2008. That is when I regretted travelling to these places and being holed up inside. I promised myself that I will try to do a little more the next time I get to travel. Surely I don’t get enough to take in the sights as I might have loved to, but if there is time then I am sure I am not going to waste it. And at the very least, I am going to try the local food, street side stalls and a few shops if possible in my effort to understand this place a little more. The simple act of going out to eat dinner in a local famous place itself gives you so much more to learn and see. These are small things that I would value in addition to all the research that I might end up doing. These things change you and at the very least give you tons of stories to talk about later.
This time I was in Ahmedabad, someone told me about Manek Chowk in the heart of the old city, a place where the deeply fired sweet gujju goes to get his gastronomic delights. Eeyah! A complete gujju cowboy approach to food. We ate the chocolate cheese sandwich. It is basically melted chocolate spread between slices of bread and then you have grated cheese all over it. then we had the chocolate pineapple pizza, where you get the base, then melt the chocolate on it, then put a few chunks of pineapple, followed by a healthy (unhealthy , actually) helping of grated cheese. Note: all these dishes have melted chocolate in it but the cheese is not melted. I saw this phenomenon in Gujarat 12 years ago. They still haven’t figured out how to melt the cheese. But honestly in this case I shudder to think what might have happened if the melted cheese got together with eth melted chocolate. The most special dish was the one that followed. The ice cream sandwich. This is bread with butter and pineapple jam applied on it. Then you grate cheese on it (of course) and then you smash an ice-cream (cashew raisin flavour) in the middle. Really wild or vile as you see it.
Ashamedly I might add, the gujju genes in me made me actually eat all this and I might not be able to openly admit, but it was fun! I dare say – tasty fun. Only a gujju who has grown up on food that needs to be a hash of all flavours at one bite can appreciate the value of what we ate that day.
It was a fun experience. Simple acts of eating weird food, meeting different people, sharing experiences makes all that travel worthwhile. Back breaking but fun. Thanks to the travel I missed out on swimming and my yoga. Yesterday I felt the crick coming back in my back. Out came the yoga mat and bye went the crick. Today also I managed to catch 10 minutes of stretching before taking Jispa to the swimming pool at 5.45 am. This is the routine on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Morning two bananas each for Jispa and me. Then we rush to hit the pool by 5.45 am. Then I have to figure either treadmill or squash, followed by a proper breakfast that Jasmine gets by 7 am. Then Jispa goes to school (jasmine drops her off) and I go for my swim class. Then I go off to office and have one more breakfast on route. I never knew a man could have three breakfasts. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it’s going to be a simple 15 swim before office. I guess the key is to settle into routine as fast as possible and get going. Else this can kill me. I guess 10 pm then is lights off! And that means getting out of office by 6 pm. Let’s see if it works.

power here power there - part 2

That’s the right song to start this second part of the power blog. Nopes, it’s the blog that is powerful but the blog is about power. Seesh. Bad comment.
Why this song? I guess this is the perfect aggression anger anthem. It’s got an expletive at the heart of the chorus, repeating itself again and again. I couldn’t help shouting my throat hoarse while I was listening to this song in the car. Just a few days back I met a respondent in my research in a southern city. A decent corporate sweet guy. He took us out for a coffee in his car and played this song loud. He apologised but said he couldn’t help but like this song. This is the aggression anthem. It is telling the world to go screw yourself. What is it about rock music that is a so dam bloody aggressive release? Is it the screaming, the straining of the guitar strings, the tempo, what? But it does feel like an aggression release. I also think the bhag bhag bhag (run run run) in the song contributes to the effect. The trader we met was an aggressive investor and like all aggressive investors, sitting on a net loss.
Aggression. It never helps. It probably helped man survive and grow from a roaming Neanderthal to a stable farmer and progress as a species. The problem is that these aggressive genes are impossible to control when you are younger. Your brain starts working for the first time in a manner that you think is logical. You see the gross injustice being meted out to you or probably to others. Your natural empathy and reaction takes over and you want to do something. Your brain is not well developed to handle the overflow of emotion and your willingness to do good and pop, aggression becomes physical. You use what you are best at, using your arms and legs.
Also when you are growing up simple things attract you. I always wanted to join the army and ‘serve the nation’. I guess today I believe nation can be better served in many other ways. But why would I want to join the army? I guess there is a simple explanation that I have to offer. It was the uniform and the machinery they have at their disposal. I wanted to join the tank unit. It guess it is no better than the young boy who wants to be an engine driver as the guys seems to be in charge of a large big engine or a fire fighter in charge of a large big red bus. It’s important for the bus to be large big and red. I think the best recruitment drive for the army would be to have these army barracks in the middle of the city which don’t have walls. There they should be doing military drills in shiny uniforms and they have these big tanks roaming around for young kids to touch feel and dream. In the good old days I guess sexy equipment and smart uniforms were only available with the army and hence the young impressionable minds would be inspired by them. Now the sexy equipment is the iphones and the blackberrys and the laptops and the music players and the …. You get the point. And they all wear the uniform to work. They wear their suits and ties and the formals and go to work. Jispa notices when I wear a suit and leave office. She looks at me and wonders something. I guess she is making an impression in her mind. A positive impression I think. These are critical cues that get formed in an impressionable mind. I wanted to join the army and I ended up being firm on it when I got a chance to visit the national defence academy at Khadakvasla while I was around in the fourth or fifth standard.
Two can play the same impression game. Both the books, which I mentioned in the earlier blog (Curfewed Night as well as Hello Bastar) talk about impressionable kids being drawn to the rebel cause. There are mentions of the locals seeing these rebels flashing guns and in uniforms moving with a purpose. It is enough for them to want to enlist with the cause. And I guess that most of these young kids don’t even know what they are really fighting for or don’t really care about it. They just are swayed by the system and they are then drawn into the quagmire in which they possibly perish or possibly grow old and have no other option but to be a continuous part of it.
I think that’s the case even for most of the other rebels from the city. The young aggression which wanes in a few years gives rise to power dependency and these guys might just stay on for their thirst for power. What else will a 30 year old do if he has spent the last 15 years fighting ‘the force’. He has no skills else but the cause and the reason he fights. And then the power game starts. His interest is clearly in maintaining his power equation. He has to survive and this is the only way he can.
While we attract the best talent in office and other places, it is important that we realised that what attracts them here in the first place is not the reason why they should stay on. Dreams change, people change, and if we are able to constantly upgrade skill sets these people will also move with us. But if we let them remain there, forget to upgrade them, worry that if we do upgrade them; they will run away; then they end up being power brokers. They will cling onto their existing equations and become satraps in their own rights, ruling over their dominions. They will naturally be threatened by their status quo and would protect fiercely. The problem when they not only protect fiercely but when they start proactively attacking other dominions in anticipation of their attack. There is a reason why as you grow older and higher in an organisation the attacks increase gets more vicious. It’s a proactive attack by someone who is not increasing his dominion but protecting it.
If we constantly improve these skills the person knows that he can get hired elsewhere, he knows that his status quo is constantly changing; he is busy using his brains productively. He knows he has an option other than where he is present. This option in his mind will free him from his inward circle of control.
Big rebel leaders know that violence is pretty much useless and it will annihilate the very class it seeks to protect. But the wisdom comes after ten years of sloganeering. He can now not eat his ego and say this can’t work. You have to work with the system to change it. You must embrace peace. It is possible to work from inside and given the effort these guys tackle in recruiting friends and putting implants, I can’t believe it’s not possible to do peacefully. Without being the enemy of the people you seek to protect.
Sigh… too much gyan for someone who is basically an arm chair critic. I haven’t been to the jungles and I haven’t been inside their homes, huts and existence. All I know is that they don’t deserve ot die like this and have their livelihood snatched away. Both sides are guilty. The rebel is as much the culprit as the oppressor.
No one is bad to start with; it’s when the situation leads you to become power hungry, when you want to maintain what you earlier stood by, when your ego does not let you admit; that is when the rot sets in. it is easy for me to say all this and extremely difficult for me to understand and see it happen and stop. It needs an amazing ability to constantly see yourself from a few feet away, and ask yourself – what, why where? Are you sure?
Too much philosophy is definitely not the core of my blog and most I know simply get bored by it and move on from my blog. I try and stop writing once I exceed one page – but this blog is not meant for these people. It is meant for me as a father. It is meant for Jispa to once read and understand if something hits her.
Jispa I hope I didn’t bore you too much. You are a sweet imaginative and sensitive kid. I hope you face your share of shit and grow stronger for it. I can’t make you a good or a bad person. But I hope after you read this, you will realise what my belief of a good or a bad thing is. Or if shit hits you and if I am not around, you know what I thought of the shit hitting me. And I sure hope you find your own answers. Your own answers.

power here power there

What’s better than one good book? Simple – two good books. And when they seem to complement each other I truly enjoy the experience. While many times you get to read books that complement each other, very rarely do you get the chance to read them in quick succession. I was lucky recently.
I normally don’t pick Indian non-fiction, but I was lucky to pick two books by Indian authors discussing home grown Indian union issues. One was Curfewed Night by Basharat peer and the other was Hello, Bastar by Rahul Pandita. The first book is about Kashmir and the second is about the Moaist / Naxal movement in India.
I have learnt over many years that India is not the ideal democracy that we grew up believing it to be. The newspapers and the media are not really interested in showing any real side of the truth. The closest I seemed to have gotten to the truth has been thanks to the Tehelka magazine.
These two books, despite all their flaws in writing style are interesting in the fact that according to me they are courageously trying to unmask the government. There is a clear idea of two Indias. One is the urban shining India and the other is the rural India untouched by the growth and modernisation. These books are revealing that there is a third India, the oppressed, raped and pushed under the carpet India. This is the place where the government not only does not care but is actively involved in oppressing and raping its own populace.
When I was much younger I always wanted to join the army. The notion of patriotism had been drilled into my head. Not that it required much drilling by external parties. I managed to drill that into my own head by own will. I wanted to pick up arms and serve the country. That was dream that lasted till very late. Only tons of reading and understanding real stuff later made me realise the false bloated notion of the nation. I refuse to now honour and respect these man made lines.
As regards Kashmir, my first experience with it was as a child with parents visiting the paradise on earth. I don’t remember it being particularly beautiful as much I remember it being arrogant. A people who knew that the world wanted to see them. I then saw it as an adult in the year 2003, and I saw no progress in the intervening 20 years. I saw people shattered, their egos broken, the desperation writ large in their eyes. While I was able to put the two together, only after reading Basharat peer was I able to live the horrors of the people of Kashmir. We could naively say that Kashmir has only itself to blame but the atrocities of the Indian forces and the rape by the powers that be, have also massively contributed to it. While there might have been a fire we managed to really add fuel to it.
Jump to the Naxalite movement in India and you realise that it is nothing but a rebellion against the state that is busy pillaging our resources at the expense of the tribal livelihood. Oh god. It’s horrific on how we manage to do it.
These are also case studies on power. While its clear that for those oppressed the state is the culprit and for those in the comfort of modern air-conditioning the rebels are to blame, to my mind both are completely totalitarian regimes corrupted by power. It is both that extract their meat from the populace. The rebels who pick the gun are reluctant to drop when they realise the power they wield. Power corrupts and is an addiction like no other. And it works at all levels. Even I look at the grass root, as a father the power I wield corrupts my thinking. Sometimes Jispa get the unnecessary brunt of rage which is nothing but a power equation. Surely I think I do it far less (I think, I hope) that what I might have faced; but hand on heart, the power is what manifests on my child.
This power equation is crazy and it is this that makes us cling on to our status quo. We are afraid of change, we forget the reason and the power itself becomes the motive. Like the book on social entrepreneurs I was reading, one do gooder realised that he could not go into get into Maoist bastions and uplift the people. The Maoists have a vested interest in keep the area underdeveloped.
I see this in offices as well. I see too many bosses having a vested interests in keeping their employees only happy enough. How much should I pay him, for him not to go? WTF? They actively supress any learnings and actively ensure stagnancy. As growth inevitably is followed by demands and market forces that put a price on the persons head which the organisation does not want to pay. Why should it? Why should I develop a person only to lose him or her? I have only in the past learnt one thing. Keep pushing the person to grow and learn. The bigger he gets the more the space he pushes around him. The wider his span of vision gets. This only benefits the organistaion, and if he leaves, be happy that he has created a big enough void, so that the new person will have to first fill that void and then try to do some more. I don’t know why the organistaions can’t see this, why the bosses can’t see this, why we can’t this?
Power lies in letting go. Yet we hold on. I so want to let go. I will try at every opportunity but dam it. I don’t see it. I only see it in hindsight. Dam.

think right

I was talking to Jispa the other day and we were talking about the flat that we bought. So I was explaining to her that to buy the flat I had to take a loan. That set off a series of questions which culminated in me explaining to her the concept of how a bank works. I explained how the bank borrows money and pays interest and how it lends money and charges interest and the spread between the two. It was good fun. She seemed to have grasped the same. It is always an interesting conversation when I have to explain to her stuff. I kind of love taking complicated stuff and translating it to her knowledge and understanding. I yearn for the day she will be studying her rocket science and explaining it to me in a language I understand.
I have always taken pride in being able to understand complex stuff as its basic level. Like I still remember my statistics class and being able to correctly remember and apply some of its core principals. Especially the concept of the bell shaped curve. In office when we do our rating we are supposed to follow the standard distribution pattern while rating teams. It is pretty stupid and ananl in the way we implement this stuff. I have a team of around 14 heads. Now the idiots will make me rate them and expect me to rate them while following the curve. So not more than an x percentage must be rated outstanding and a y be rated below that and a z must be rated adversely. It’s stupid. A simple error of taking what is true at macro and expecting it to work in a micro environment. The first rule that most students of statistics will tell you is that standard normal curves tend to be formed at minimum sample size of 40. And that too at that level you only have 80percent confidence in the sample. Lower numbers do not throw the curve distribution. Good HR practice would have dictated that at the time of appraisal the organisation must follow a standard normal pattern for grading. So the corporate duds have mandated that every team must follow the pattern. So even my 14 head team would need to follow a statistical model while statistically it does not hold good.
Duh. Also this would be true in an environment that does not have external stimulus and bias. My team is lean and small. It enables me to focus on the lower level and manage them. I constantly attempt to attack and weed out non performance. I do not let non performance be tolerated and linger. Hence as a whole I would have a bias that ensures a larger than normal head. My variance would necessarily be less and hence the model itself designed to paint the complete picture of the organisation would fail. But it is difficult to explain this to corporate India. We are adept at making the stupid error of taking the macro picture and expecting it to work at the micro level. It’s like saying that every branch of the mango tree must produce a variation in fruit that is consistent with the variance in the tree as a whole.
This shit happens when you sleep in statistic class. I loved my professor. He used to try and make a sincere attempt to get the stuff into our brains. I remember trying to sit at the first one or two rows else the lecture risked getting lost on you. In the break we used to run to the wada pav guy and get some wadas to eat along with the spicy chutney. That also was designed to keep you alert. He tried his best and I tried my best to understand him. It was a sincere attempt.
So after all these years while I forgot most of my statistics I have been fortunate to know some of the basic stuff and as I grow older I meet people and understand further application of the stuff I learnt. I might forget what the chi square test really is but I know enough to know that mere correlation is not equal to causation. The basics like mean median and mode is something that I remember and I think at some level it helps. Especially when the quanti researchers come in to pitch some of their products. It fries my brain when they talk but at least after the deep frying some thing interesting comes out from it.
So with Jispa I try and get the basic thinking right. It’s important that the thought process works correctly. A broad and correct understanding of the concept is at times more than adequate than a detailed analysis. Sure there will be several opportunities to dive deeper into a subject matter but for most occasions an understanding that helps you talk and direct the subject matter experts would be more than useful. This is not an excuse to be a generalist. In fact one of the biggest regrets of my training is that I have not taken the opportunity to be an expert in any one field. I have been a stupid generalist. I wish I would have taken a science or an arts stream that would have helped me direct my energies towards a specialised field. Even if I would have done my management afterwards, I still wish I would have done at the least an engineering. In fact today I wish I would have followed my dad and done my graduation in civil engineering. I would have gotten great pleasure to be able to construct a building or something. Even I might have hardly ever gotten chance to build one, the knowledge of being able to build one would have been lovely.
Talking about Jispa knowing about interest. Once while we were giving her pocket money because she played her guitar I got a brain wave. While she should know and experience the joy of getting and spending money she must also experience the joy of saving money and getting interest on it. so if she spends her money she know that she will not only part with her money but also the future interest on it. So we decided to give her interest. For sake of calculation her interest is set at 10percent per month. Oh dam what a high rate of interest. She is a pathaan. But it’s ok I guess. The other day Jasmine decided to give Jispa the money we got from selling old newspapers. On hearing this I jumped up. “what are you doing? I am paying ten percent on that every month.” Jasmine had a good laugh. “who told you to pay interest to your daughter?” she asked.
Oh dam. My wise ideas will come back to give me a bite on my bum.
For the record, in the middle her Nanaji gave her some 750 bucks for helping him in some origami class. So today while I was paying her interest, I was like wow...she had calculated interest at 98.7 rupees. Jasmine later told me that she calculated interest herself. She figured out how much the amount should be ... all jasmine told her was you will get 10 bucks per hundred. Cool. next time around she will understand for herself the benefits of compounding.
Jispa is also prone to asking some really simple questions. One question she asked Jasmine. “Mom, if you knew John Abraham in college itself (he studied in the same college, one year older), why didn’t you take his autograph then itself?”

Another one that I was super impressed by - she called me while I was travelling. She asked me “dad, I was reading about Jesus Christ (amar chitra katha) and I was wondering if BC is before Christa and AD is after death, then what is the period between?” Dam cool. My history teacher, Mrs. Annie Mathews had taught us this in the fifth standard. AD is not after Death. It’s Anno Domini. I remember that class very well. I told Jispa that it’s not after death, it stands for Anno Domini. But somehow she remembers me teaching her in some museum that AD stood for after death. I wouldn’t normally teach her, as this is my favourite GK question, but if Jispa was so sure, then I let it rest. “sorry, if taught wrong, but here is the truth.” I then went online and explained to her what Anno Domini stood for (the year of the lord) and that in all probability there is a miscalculation and Jesus was not born in 0 BC.

room for improvement

Learning never stops and it comes from all quarters. These days I have had the good fortune of eating my ego and having it punctured. There is this lovely lady in office, a colleague who has this disarming style of talking and puncturing my ego. Normally I don’t take too kindly to advise. Most don’t know what they are talking about or don’t understand you or are too shallow to really help. The vast majority don’t even care too much about you to really help you. This lady is able to influence by her unique style of not really advising but by merely pointing what she sees and putting in a way that hits me hard. I have been advised by a few friends to go for Vipassana and meditation. But I find that impossible to go for giving my high ego and general intolerance for saintliness. I hate those self help books and discourses designed to help you see light. Instead I love it when people talk about their experience and what they saw in real life and what they interpret out of them. This chick is able to make me see light by merely questioning what I do. No one has so far been able to tell me how to talk or behave with Jasmine. Once while overhearing a phone conversation she was able to ask some basic questions which made me realise my mistake and helped me immediately improve my behaviour. Not that it was too much of a change. It wasn’t like a change from negative to positive, but a small subtle shift that I am sure would go a long way. After being in love for 22 odd years with Jasmine, it does come as a rude jolt that I need to improve, in whatever way possible. Sigh... there is always room for improvement. People change if they want to. They change when they want to. It doesn’t make sense to force or attempt to change them. One only needs to question and ask correctly. That is all that is required. The rest flows. I take credit for wanting to change, recognising the need to change but she takes a whole host of credit for showing me how to.
It’s nice to be around 35/36. You can have good adult conversations with those even 6 years younger to you. That improves your scope for conversation tremendously. You have so many mature people to choose from.
Speaking about gurus... I can’t handle the gurus and the books they write. Keeping in line with my ego status, I really don’t understand how such apparent commonsense crap is being sold. Today I just happened to catch a Deepak Chopra book and he seems to be in the same market as Robin Shrama. ‘You are a good person and you need to harness your goodness to become great’ genre. The writing is extremely simple and full of promoting self goodness. I think it is meant for people who have forgotten their souls or have sold their souls, and need to be reminded that their souls are meant for greatness and this soulless period is just a temporary phenomenon. I think these books seek to address a vacuum in the same way porn does. Pornography for the soul. You are a great guy with a foot long organ and you just don’t know it yet. Everyone can have a foot long. Yikes... that line sounds like a Subway ad.

ask and you shall know

This post was written in Igatpuri but uploaded from Vizag.
I am trying to catch a couple of days of rest and relaxation in the midst of all the chaos around me. The chaos is my doing and I love every moment of it. within a short span of a couple of months I am doing an all India research trip meeting customers, business partners and employees across India in an attempt to find out the soul of the broking market and the findings are amazing, startling at times and at times I want to kick myself for not seeing it before. So many times when we sit in Mumbai and hypothesise about the kind of customers we might have, we like most others take references from our immediate surroundings and create marketing insights out of these which we action. I feel like an idiot. In the past when we were drafting emailers for our customers I relied too much on long copy and the play on the English language. One big insight is that most of our customers dont really understand or know too much English. I haven’t had more than a couple of interviews in English as I understand it. Those who understand it are also comfortable not talking in it. Beyond Mumbai, they seem to be thinking, talking and interacting in their mother tongue. Even in places such as Pune and Nashik the clientele is largely happy in vernacular.
If I looked carefully enough and seen the signs I would have noticed this long time back. All one has to do is look at the comments and forums and check the language. People are conversing in the English they are comfortable in and it’s not the English I know. It’s full of grammar and typos and with a good mix of local words. English is purely the language of writing it is not the language of conversation. The qwerty key board has ensured we write in it but has not ensured we think in it. India is conversing in its own language. What does this mean for advertising and communication? The new brief for my agencies is to write from my daughter’s English text book. You may not use any word not found in that.
There are these and many more insights that can be had by talking to people across the country. This has been an extremely enlightening period for me. My day typically starts at 7 am nd ends by around 12 midnight. The whole day consists of meeting people, talking, thinking, ratifying and junking theories. No matter how different people are the core of what they are is the same. We can look for differences across the spectrum of clients and that’s the easiest thing to do, but it does not take much to see that at a particular level they are the same. A few threads run through them and that define them as my customers. Thanks to my teaching in the colleges I have constantly reinforced to my class and hence to myself as well. The best way to put basics in your head is to try and drill it to 60 kids every year. I am so thankful to them. Almost as thankful as I am to Dharen Chaddha.
These days he comes so often to me in my mind. I see the rubbish being thrown about and remember his lessons, his methodologies and his clarity of thought. One of his biggest contributions to my thought process is to belive in my research and not to theorise outside of it. Hence what I see I say, and what I don’t see, I refrain from commenting. Some basics that I remember clearing with him years ago come back to help me again and again. To use relationship with the category as opposed to segmentation, which is contrary to what most marketing text books preach.
The power of doing research yourself while understanding the market cannot be underestimated. I find it funny to see marketing managers relying on the research presentation instead of their own eyes and ears. Getting out of your comfort zone and meeting clients at their own liars contributes tremendously to our understanding. And those seeking to contribute without the effort come across so shallow. Yesterday was an interim presentation in which we had two senior resources who were trying to understand from the presentation on the state of the market. they came across as tremendously shallow and surprised, while those who have had the good fortune to be in the market were able to put the presentation in better context. Of course it did not help that while the two extremely talented ladies in research did a great job in researching but an absolute bummer of a job in putting the presentation together. I guess they were too used to putting together different segments, plenty of stupid insights and were unable to string a line together. I guess most companies want that. Give me differences, not what is common. They want to take apart every small segment and niche. I really don’t understand it as a base for a broad over arching marketing thought. But forget it. Let me not get too critical. I too know little and what little I know is also open for debate, discussion and plenty of learning.
What I do know is that too many people fart too much knowing too little. And too many people base their strategy by superficially knowing too little of those in and around themselves. I am happy and proud that I have forced, coerced and ensured that my team gets into the market themselves and see what the truth is. As I keep telling them, the company is dumb. They will be happy with whatever we give them, but it is up to us to know what we are doing, why we are doing and base our strategies and thought process on something we have found out. Even at the end of it all if we get five immediate action points, most research would have paid off.

Change adal badal

Ok. We did it. Now we have lesser bragging rights and thing less to show the world what a lovely clean and so smart family we are. We succumbed to the lure of entertainment. We finally bought a TV. After around five years of resisting and having a perfectly normal and perhaps far more enriching life. But we haven’t still sold our soul completely. We haven’t still got a cable connection at home. This one is exclusively for watching movies.
I was still trying to resist the idea when Jasmine brought it up. Our laptop had conked. Poor thing it has lasted us around five years. We kept it largely clean and simple with all the data in the hard drives. It still manages to boot up and connect to the internet, but it refuses to play the optical drives. So this vacation Jasmine was very unhappy that Jispa wouldn’t get her normal dose of movie watching which we happily get her on the laptop. I was more than happy to get one big piece home. Possibly a 17 inch laptop so that you get your laptop and a tv screen as well. Jasmine was adamant. TV it is. So after agonising a bit, I even tried procrastinating, so that she might pass it on, I finally said ‘chalo, we buy this piece today. TV buying was amazingly complex. Too many choices. So I just went to a friend’s shop who sold TVs. He simply asked what I needed it for and recommended the Plasma TV. He reasoned that it is cheaper than the new fangled LED TVs but is ideal to watch movies as the picture quality is better. LCD and LED TVs are sharper but they seem too sharp. The colors aren’t what the movie actually had. Unnecessarily brighter. The only drawback of the Plasma being the reflection from ambient light. But if it was only movies and typically we would darken the room, the Plasma would suit us just fine. Quick online searches also seemed to say something similar.
So we now have a 42 inch Full HD TV. A decent size for the hall when taken in length. Jispa was also very happy. I told her to thank mommy. I was the original opposer! But I guess it’s a good buy. We can now see the action movies or any other movies that we miss at the theatres. Saturday or Friday evening can be a bit more relaxing. The burn in the pocket – around 50 k with a DVD player, thrown in. The first movie we saw on Sunday when we installed the TV – ICE AGE 2. It was pretty cool. I really thought that the picture quality was excellent. But then as someone from my team asked – so how is your new TV? ‘What a question’ I answered. ‘you want me to say bad things about a TV I just bought? I am trying to justify every penny of it for Christ’s sake.’
So now Jispa’s vacation just got prettier. But to talk about bad timing, my office research project also just kicked off and I would be living out of a suitcase for the next month. Just in time to miss Jispa’s vacation. It’s nice during vacations, Jispa is awake by the time I come home. She plays, she reads, we talk, we eat dinner together etc. I miss this during her school days when her morning school ensures she sleeps pretty early.
Also Jispa is growing up. All my fatherhood I thought I would be a permissive father. A father who would allow Jispa a lot of freedom. Recently I realised that possibly not. I am just another pain in the neck pop who likes his daughter close to him. So these days when jasmine lets Jispa play down with her new found friends till late, I realised that I wanted and was happy to have my daughter close to me. While we expose her to a lot of experiences, I am not sure we are as liberal in exposing her independence. I think I particularly have a far more controlled environment for her. I take too much care of her, I want her in sight all the time. I want to know where she is and what she does all the time. At around 8 – 9 years, she is a mini adult. A grown up who understands, thinks and remembers. A person capable of independent thought, capable of handling herself.
As a friend recently remarked – I think I have to learn to let go. Can I? Reading the Buddha book on psychotherapy has taught me not to give advice to anyone at the drop of a hat. To know that people will solve issue son their own. They don’t really need you to help them solve it. I realised that most of the time they only need support. Sometimes it’s going to go against my wish, my immediate reaction, but I am going to be there – period. I am not giving advice any more.
I find it weird but it’s almost like saying ‘its your shit’, your call, your life. In any case most of us don’t really want advice; they want to do what they want to. Whatever you say will be interpreted by their brain in their way towards their goals and objectives. A certain sense of calm suddenly seems to have been come over me. It is still draining but a less intensive sort of way.
Possibly I will learn to let go. Relax. Possibly it will help Jispa. Possibly it is freeing Jasmine a bit. You know what – now knowing for sure that you know nothing is such a relief. I not someone blessed by God to solve people’s problems. I just happened to be there when someone needed me. Period. Its so nice not to be Budhha. Ya ya. I guess I was in some sense egoistic about being one. Self deluded about my knowledge. I am nothing. I do not have the ability to solve people’s issues. Who says they need solving? We don’t even know that. If I feel strongly I will say it and let go. I think I am changing. My wife thinks I am changing. I hope I am changing. I am happy at least I am receptive. But at the same time it hurts me to think that I was not that a good smart guy after all. I was an ass that needed change. Eeps. It hurts, no I am not depressed about it, but it hurts. When Jasmine felt that I changed for the better, I did not know whether to be happy that I did change or to feel sad that I needed to change.
Screw it. I am changing and I feel better. So we figure out life anew. Hopefully I can look at this and say this is my second big transformation. The first one happened when I interacted with two great souls and outstanding minds, Rajesh Sahadevan and Dharen Chaddha. This was in 2003/4. This is the second wave that could possibly completely radically alter my thought process.
To talk about Dharen, since when the research started I cannot but remember my days with him. Today when I am doing research I can only thank him and rajesh for showing me what is marketing all about; and thanks to that people in my team can possibly learn from my experience. Simple listening and straight forward thinking is giving me a whale of an opportunity to change the firm I am in. Mostly I will not change it too much, but I can make small impacts, small push to the wheel. Small addition to momentum or simply removal of stones blocking the path.
I have already learnt so many lessons and we haven’t even reached the half way stage. Hectic days that start early and end late are all worth it when you learn like this. Wow. I am super excited and super charged. Now just to ensure that too many people don’t dampen this enthusiasm. Dharen please be with me on this one and show me light.
PS – I recently spoke to Dharen after 7 odd years. I could nothing more than just simply keep crying on the phone while talking to him. He is my God. My Dronacharya who I keep in mind while practising. I know I take a few shortcuts but I still know and I hope he will understand, that I am not selling my soul, but I am merely buying peace, so that a bigger goal is achieved. Dharen, I need you now as much as ever and you are there with me as much as ever.

entertainment attempts

It’s funny how I seem to have hit a writer’s block. There seems to be nothing interesting to write about. Sure there is always something happening in my life and office, but does it really warrant a post? Especially on a blog that about my daughter growing up. Like today when we put money on the table and incited a trainee to pull the cheek of her boss. We had to really push her and motivate her. We kept putting one tenner after another till the purse became around 150 odd bucks. The only condition was that she should pull the check till it turns red. No red no money. Since her boss reported into me, I also had to indemnify her against possible back lash, which I promptly did. So finally she did. She pulled his cheek. But alas, no red. But we weren’t complaining. We got the shock and awe we wanted without losing a single penny, her boss was wondering what happened to her and we had a great laugh all around.
So how does this qualify as a blog entry except for the fact that her dad is a complete whacko and can constantly think of funny stuff to liven up the office. Office by definition is a dull drab place needing a shake here and a shake there. But it can’t warrant too many posts.
As regards Jispa latest adventures, she was on the last book of the Harry Potter series and her vacation started. Vacations means less sleep for me, late nights for her and me stuck in a time warp where I can’t make out if I must wake up early or sleep in till late and screw my carefully orchestrated schedule. So as her vacation started she simply has left her Harry Potter and picked up on Asterix comics. She loves them and the wam, boom,crash, poof etc that come along with it. As I did so at her age, she too is too bored to read the names of the characters, which though long winded have clever use of the pun, Getafix and Vitalstatistix as prime examples. I too never really read their names in details. Just passing them over to see the big fights with the Romans. It’s weird how we find the clearly one sided fights so funny. There is never a balance and the magic potion is the answer to almost every problem. Smash everything through a magic potion. The only one time I remember a twist in the tale when at the Olympics, Asterix refuses to take the potion and comes out superior. In fact gives it to his opponents and wins the fight in the end. How did he do that? Sorry I am not giving any spoilers here, but it surely was a fun issue. In front of Asterix, even Tintin looks more human, more vulnerable.
I remember being completely lost in these comics as kid. Full of amazing adventure and imagination. I feel Jispa is really lucky to be in an era of book shops where the child is completely allowed to sit and read, lost in the books around. When I was smaller, in dubai, we used to be near the book section reading comics at the Choitaram stores. These were the big supermarkets run by the mallus from india. While their book collection wasn’t so big, it was enough to give us enough reason to be lost in it. Every 10 minutes a mallu would run around chasing us away. We would disperse only to be back in five minutes. It’s nice to see bookstores like the Crosswords and Landmark having large children book collections and large comic book collections. It is always fun to be lost at a book store. This time around in Pune Landmark, Jispa was lost at the Amar Chitra Katha section. Pic below.



Noting much to note about, except the fact that I have bought the entire collection and it is lying at home at her disposal. Not that she doesn’t touch them; she does read them, but I just found it queer for her to intently read at a section where she has unlimited access to at home. Kids. I think you always love something more if it’s given outside of the house.
But it’s a lovely and heartening thing to see her thus. Completely at ease and completely at bliss at a bookstore. Jasmine and I believe that this largely due to the absence of the TV at the house. This too is going to soon change. Jasmine believes that now the time is right for the TV to make an appearance in the household but still the cable is not welcome. Only TV for movie watching. So the bug debate is plasma vs LCD vs LED and 32 inches vs 42 inches. With three choices on one axis and two on the other, this is causing severe stress. Add to these axis the third dimension of the price trade off, and what have you – complete inertia. Now I don’t care about it and I want to not buy the dam piece. Screw you. No TV. Poor Jispa was telling me that she doesn’t really require a TV, she is happy with the books at home. She probably wants to spare me the expense. What to do? Will let you know the update in a weeks time. as of now one is playing with a 35k 32 inch LED vs a 42K 42 inch plasma or feel rich with a 42 inch 60K LED. While the Sony looks good, the brand choice might be simply dictated by the model that plays MP4 format. And that seems to be the LG. so that is a easy choice. MP4 is critical as all my handycam and digital video shoots are in that format. I am not sitting and converting those into anything else. Especially if I want to play them directly off the TV. But if I am buying the optical media player in any case, I simply buy the drive that plays the format and screw whatever the TV okays as it will simply show whatever the DVD player wants it to. Which brings me to the next question – blue ray versus normal VD or simply buy a movie media box player that plays off the box in HD clarity. Add to that is the 3D versus non 3D technology. ARRRGGGHHHH. I don’t want the dam thing. screw you.
While on the topic I wonder, why would they give only set of 3D goggles with your TV. Shouldn’t you give at least 2?

should we, shouldn't we?

Yesterday was Jispa’s PTM. It’s pretty much more of the same thing every year. When they are yet so young the PTM’s are a bit of a bore. Nothing much gets said and nothing much really happens. Jispa is by and large a sweet well mannered kid. Add to that is Jasmine’s commitment to Jispa’s school work and you have a pretty boring PTM. Her grades are decent, her work is decent and she manages her extra-curriculars decently well. Nothing exciting or interesting. But that’s how the education system is, isn’t it.
You follow simple norms and simple principles and stay in line. They don’t want you out of the system. Straight and narrow line is drawn as a system and you are expected to toe it. Of course things have improved. There is a lot more interaction today than it was in my days. The classes and the teachers are much more fun, at least in jispa’s school, compared to my school. But I suspect the hammering to stay in line is still there.
Jispa has a vivid and massive imagination. She can think of fun stuff and interesting stuff. Thanks to this she is many a time lost in her dream world. While bathing, getting ready, studying etc. always a dream world. I think thanks to this she can visualize all the science stuff as well as the abstract stuff that we talk about very well. But this is also the reason she gets into trouble – like she can’t finish her work in time or take her note sin time. Jasmine and I get castigated many times on this by well meaning friends. They always tell us, why are you scolding her thus and why don’t you just let it be?
The answers aren’t so simple. Jispa wants to do well in school. She wants to do well in life. As of now her goal in life is to be a scientist who invents something. She hasn’t yet meet Edison, but if she does, I suspect that guy is likely to be her big time role model. Many times she and I have had a chat on how scientists make money. She thought they will always be poor as who will give them money till they invent something that they can sell. And as it takes a lot of time to invent something, they are probably living a hand to mouth existence most of the time. I explained that most of the time you don’t really need to invent something as a scientist, you can sometimes, simply take things forward. The thing that comes to my mind is Newton who famously remarked about standing on the shoulders of giants. Nice thought. I will explain it to Jispa sometime.
But yes that’s the thing – Jispa has ambitions and goals. And sadly they are intertwined with a system that is regimented. The cross that we as parents have to bear is this. We have to give her a life that is free and fertile, full of imagination, play and opportunity. We have to give her a ton of experiences that allow her to blossom and choose what she wants to do or not do. She has to have a million experiences, but she also has to stay within a line if she is to have the chance to harness it. I haven’t learnt a great deal from my management education. In fact I tell people that I know what I know and have achieved whatever little I have not thanks to my management education but in spite of it. I still remember the lovely lectures and all the lovely experiences of the best teachers I have had, but have no respect for any of the tests or exams I took. I know only too well of the trauma they have caused. But also I know that I wouldn’t have been able to talk or have been able to lead, or been able to do much without this education. The system wouldn’t have given me so many chances.
The system is so bloody spooked that even the college you graduate from matters immensely. Many times I think what more I would have achieved had I been from a better college. Not a tiny bit more from what I might have learnt from there but simply, how many extra chances I might have got.
Jispa’s imagination will take her places. Her thinking will help her, but she will have to learn to rein it in for now. Control it and stay within line. The line is getting a bit broader, just a bit. They also now allow you periods when you can step out and come back in. but as I have learnt, she too will. It’s like the some fantasy movie. There is a golden ball with the dragon, but you the trick to take it from the dragon, is not to snatch it but to first bow down to it. Show your respect to the dragon and then only would the dragon allow you to come near it and collect it.
The education she gets is important and interesting. I still remember a lot of my chemistry and physics and mathematics. I remember a lot of the poems I learnt. They are good for sure. It’s only the way they want conformity is what I have an issue with. But till the system changes, Jispa will get a bit of scolding. She will have to wake up in time and get ready in time. She will have to sit at one place and get her Hindi spellings right. While I can read Hindi, one of the biggest regrets I have had is that I am unable to read Hindi literature. If she grows up wanting to read it, she will have to start now. And if she doesn’t do it now, she probably will never have the chance to do it.
We insist and make her practice the guitar. She loves it and is now pretty decent at playing it. She enjoys playing and practicing, but to get her to the table and sit down to practice it, is something that we as parents will have to do. Forget all this big stuff, Jispa will have to temper her imagination if she wants to get anything in life. Even she wants to see a movie, she will have to get out of the showers after her swim and get ready in time. It’s the same thing.
This life is pretty cruel. You have to make choices. The education system is a good scapegoat that all of us like to hit and blame. The only reality is time. We come with limited time and the dam thing doesn’t wait for us. We have to conform to it. An interesting perspective I read – time was thought of as a constant flowing thing, till we invented a clock that took this flow and broke it down into tiny tiny bits. Into hours and minutes and seconds and so on. It created a tick followed by a tick. I dare say in our bid to tame it we became its slaves. To think of it, it might have been the single biggest innovation that lead to progress and the single biggest contributor of stress.
So there – our parenting will get tested very often. We will have to give a free life within the boundaries defined. A paradoxical construct that stresses us as parents as much as it stresses the child. The only way is out is to try and get middle ground, a large middle ground, that allows for break outs and allows for us to listen. We must constantly be ready to expand this ground. The parents prayer – allow me to protect my child but more importantly, please let me know when to stop.

tied in knots about tying a knot

Dam. I remember being very late on learning how to tie a shoe lace. My mom used to tie for me and then in case they ever untied I would get them tied by a friend. I don’t know how long it lasted but I think I was an ignoramus till the second standard or thereabout. Finally I got it. But life was never so simple. The dam laces I tied always became untied. Every time I would be bending over and tying laces. While at school with the black shoes or the white canvas shoes. While playing cricket with my sport shoes, while running or while walking. My laces would always come untied. I tried tying them differently or got someone else to tie them for me. Sometimes someone else’s hand would work and sometimes it wouldn’t. The laces were a perennial problem. They were a problem even on the formal shoes. Who ever heard of formal shoes untying?
Life was a complete bore. So in spite of like the formal laced shoes I bought a few of the non laced variety. In the middle I found it cool to roam around with shoes laces so lose that you needn’t tie them. Of course you can’t really run with them or jump with them but for normal urban lifestyle I figured tying laces were an unnecessary chore best left undone. You just keep them loose enough for them not to get to trip yourself and let them just stay there.
But underlying I knew there was a way to tie them in a way that they don’t untie that easily. Should I tie them tight, should I tie them loose, should I tie them in a double knot (which made them difficult to open), should I tie them the other way. What on earth must I do? I thought only I was jinxed. Possibly I ran in a certain way, possibly I walked in a certain way; possibly I was just a specially gifted child.
All my life’s frustration came to an end on seeing this most amazing three minute video. It changed my life. I knew there was a secret. It only did not reveal itself to me till now. I normally now don’t have too much time for a daily ted video on my RSS feed but this time around I just happen to glimpse it instead of pushing the mark all as read button and voila I see destiny, oops, the video in front of me. A three minute, that’s it, three minutes, a three minute video on tying your shoelaces right. A simple trick. It also solved an ancillary problem. I always thought the tied shoelaces, did not look right. They looked straight along the north south axis and not the lovely bow along the east west axis. This solved that as well. And to think I missed it. A simple trick I missed it. I put the right bow first, I put the left bow first, tight, loose everything, but I missed a simple trick. Arghh, dam.
But fret not. I am now enlightened. As Jispa was asking, what is the meaning of the book title ‘if you see Buddha on the road, kill him’. I told her it was about being enlightened internally. She knows that Buddha is not the name of a person; it is an idea, an enlightenment. I explained that the title talks about knowing what to do and what to think, and that these answers come from within. You might get a teacher but the final path and the decision is yours. It is your mind and your thoughts. You are responsible for them. The Buddha is in you.
But here I found it in a simple humble three minute Ted video. Have a look. Who knows what small thing might just be enough to change your life.

i swear, i mean it?

“dad, what is the short form of Madhya Pradesh?”. Hmm. Jispa is not the one to ask simple questions. It has to be a trap, a bait, an innocuous looking bait in which her papa will gleefully fall. Having thought of a few possible curve balls, I said “MP”. “aaaaa” she replied. “you said a bad word”. “MP, a bad word? When did MP become a bad word” I asked. “it is she insisted”. Oooo . ok. “nopes Jispa. MP isn’t a bad word. MC is a bad word”. “oh, ok” she replied. Good that was the end of that. Or so I thought. “what is the full form of MC?”. “err, Jispa, I am not telling you bad words, ok? I am not teaching you what they are or what they mean?” well do you explain mother F*&^er to her? I might be a progressive dad, but I am not explaining that.
“but dad, if I don’t know, I might say it by mistake” she insists. “well if you say it by mistake, then we will correct you and babes, you silly goose, I am not discussing the meaning or the bad words with you. I will teach you when you are 12 years old”. “o man, that is far away, 4 more years?” she cried. “Jispa, are you seriously sad that you cant learn bad words?”. There I thought that was the end of that. Or so I thought.
“dad, you know middle finger is also a bad word?” “ya, kid, I know”. “you know, I means the ‘F’ word”. “hmm, I guess so, but not just quite, it’s a little different”. “does it mean the ‘S’ word”. “nopes, not really”. “then what it means?”. “Jispaaaaa, I am not discussing bad words till you are in the eight standard.”. “but dad, you just said you will discuss it when I am 12 years old.”. “Jispa, now tell me, are you seriously crying and complaining that you are not getting o discuss ‘bad words’?”. That finally stopped the conversation. Or so I think. For now atleast.
We were laughing and smiling all the time while having this conversation. I really do want her to have this conversation with me, but later. I could possibly explain what I know. It’s better that she knows what she could be mouthing.
Hey did I tell this story. I guess not. I stopped swearing. I was a sailor tongue. This was largely thanks to my days as a sales man. Pressure was invariably used as an excuse to give out bad words. I did not see man or woman around while mouthing them. My bosses too had contributed to this as I had a string of bosses equally foul mouthed. And this was common language in office. My office team in the past tried to stop me but to no avail. I was sailor tongue and screw you I was not changing.
Then one interesting thing happened. In this new office, I recruited this lovely young women (we will use initials to protect their privacy- SC). One came to me within a month of being recruited and casually asked. “aap itna gaali kyun dete ho?” – Why do you swear such? “err, screw you, do you have a problem with that?”. “no, no, go on, just that, sometimes you talk so high, history and science and everything, and then suddenly, you go $#@% %$#@ $%#$@.” “so you want me to stop”. “nopes, just wondering. It doest suit”. Ok now that got me thinking. I thought a bit and slowed down, but did not completely eliminate it.
Then I recruited another young lovely lady. (ST – for short). In a few days she comes to me and says, “my my such profanity”. “hey, you are from media, I thought you are ok with this”. “oh of course I am ok with it.” “then what’s your grouse I asked?”. “I don’t have a grouse, I just remarked as profanity does suit your profile?”. HUH!?!. “so you want me to change?” “nopes “ came the answer, “I am just fine, its just that it doesn’t suit your profile?” “what profile?”. “well , when you talk all these big things, and then you use profanity. It just doesn’t suit”
I called the first lovely in as well. Well I told them. Its amazing that they had the same thing to say to me. They were fine with it and they were quite clear that they did not want me to change if I did not want to. They just remarked that I must change only if I want to. That day they did what some previous collegues could not. They made me feel quite ashamed of myself. I felt something funny, something weird, something shallow. Ok. I remember the date. 23March. One month from now if I don’t utter any such swear words, you guys take me out for lunch or else I take you out. DEAL? Deal.
They were I guess, happy for me and happy to lose the bet for me. Thank you someone for giving me these lovely ladies with kick ass attitude. I won the bet and won the war! Now I have been foul free since and these words when uttered by anyone stick out like a sore thumb in the conversation. I hear them loud and feel funny about it. A few words here and there come in a guy to guy conversation. But they are few and far between and they are usually there to mean something. Earlier they were there as fillers between words serving no purpose other than to give out swear words. What reason were they there? But I cant believe that 12 years of habit was undone by them in an instant.
It shouldn’t have been so tough. I never swear in front of Jasmine and of course Jispa. Jasmine had expressed her displeasure to me while we were 15 years old. And I have never been able to really swear in front of her yet she knew what I was behind her back.
So now I am the same upfront and behind. And all it required is not for someone to tell me to stop, but to wonder why I started in the first place.
I am so grateful to these ladies. I thank them and I owe them big time. Simple words can mean so much. I love you all.

the new deal

I remember the first time I got pocket money. I think I was in fourth standard and it was a grand two rupees a month. I was so excited. It came from the blue, when our parents announced that we would now be eligible for pocket money. All three of us got different sums, and I being the youngest got the least at 2 bucks. I remember clearly getting that money and I remember think and counting, how many months will it take me to reach 50 bucks if I save it all. My pocket money reached 50 bucks a month till I was in the tenth and in college it was a grand 100 bucks a month. Here when I first entered college, it was the first time I was in town, roaming round with my new found friends. We all decided to go to Croissants etc, a bake shop. There I saw for the first time a chocolate croissant. I so loved it. Then I also tasted a cheese garlic croissant, yummmm. The chocolate one I remembered cost 11 bucks. Again my mental math told me that I could eat only about 9 a month. That’s it dude and that would mean no movies or anything else. Slowly my pocket money rose to hit 500 bucks a month till I finished my management education. 500 bucks was wow. That was good enough to support a lifestyle. Of course it helped that Jasmine was the rich one with her extra money coming in from tuitions she took for some neighbourhood kids. So she spent on us and I could make my pocket money go some way.
So I started with what I thought was a massive sum and ended with what I thought was a fair sum. In the middle I felt I didn’t have enough. I did not resent this or resent my parents for this. I was cool with it. One just simply did not have enough. We weren’t poor. We were gulf returnees who had saved up a pile. We had a cool house in a sky scraper but I guess the values of thrift that our parents wanted to put in us was a great thing. So while I had what I thought was inadequate I don’t ever remember me thinking it was unfair or unjustified. I was pretty cool with the money. If you don’t have , then you don’t have. No cribbing here.
But I still don’t like the pocket money concept. I don’t like a teen ager having to plan and save his money. These are his days to enjoy and spend, saving will come eventually. Sure the money is not unlimited but, the monthly pocket money concept is something I am not so cool with. It breeds more unfulfilled desire, which may come out in spending sprees when one is older I guess. But whatever, when Jispa recently was asking about pocket money, I wasn’t too cool with the idea. My first answer was that, we are with you all the time. Why do you need any money in any case? And when you want take it from us. Just let me know you want the money and I will give you. I had friends in school who got money on demand, sometimes I thought that was too much, but as long as you need to ask, what’s the issue. The tap control is with me. Jispa was not convinced. She wanted money for herself that she would spend on her own. Ok so that’s a problem. How do I give her a pocket money? Once a week, once a month? So I generally was chatting with her. She wanted once a week some sum. 10 bucks a week. That’s too low I thought. No point giving money that she will have nothing to spend on really. She also wanted to save some from that and put in her piggy bank. So you need enough to spend and save. If you want to promote savings, you need to have enough to save. So I put this question up on facebook and the overwhelming answer was to give some pocket money. And obviously the younger ‘friends’ voted for it. One other friend who is also a mother suggested that we must give money for doing chores around the house. Ok. so you don’t really get the money free, but you have to earn it.
Doing chores to get money was another bugbear for me. It’s quite a western concept. Working around the house is a family duty. You don’t need to get money to be motivated to work for the family and I hated doing the work and money would always be inadequate for what I thought would be great work. Ha. Plus I much rather pay the house help to do the work than get my kid to work for the money. I rather they work out of love or even guilt but not money. But this earning to get money got me thinking.
At the dinner table we were having a conference and we were discussing what to do about this conundrum and what must Jispa do to earn her pocket money. Till we hit a brain wave. Great. You get ten rupees a day if you practise guitar for 30 minutes. That’s it? Jispa asked. Yup that’s it. every day in the morning practise your guitar and you are eligible for ten whole bucks. That means you can make a cool 50 bucks a week. Jispa was super happy; she does what she likes to and gets PAID for it? ya. Get paid for it. But like the ultimate evil parent we too had sinister design, that are not too readily apparent. We too killed a dozen birds with one stone. To get 30 minutes of guitar time in the morning she has to - 1. Wake up on time. In other words her fussing to wake up must dramatically reduce from 15 minutes to 3. -2. She has to get in to the bath instantly. -3. She must finish her bath and brush in exactly ten minutes. -4 she must get herself ready after bath, wear her clothes etc without dreaming away. -5. She must sit to have breakfast. -6. She must finish her breakfast on time. -7 she must get up and wash her hands and face and get ready to get her hair combed. -8. She must then pack her bags and keep them ready – 9. She must then sit to practise her guitar at 6.55am which gives her 30 minutes to then wind up at 7.25 am to then wear her shoes, socks and run with me out of the house.
Believe me, these are the toughest 10 rupees she would ever make. She has been trying since the last week and she hardly managed one odd day in the middle a couple of days of 15 minutes practise. Though it was not a part of the deal; in fact it was a stated exclusion, I still paid her 5 bucks for 15 minutes. Poor thing. Today she got a tenner for the whole 30 minutes and another ten for the two intermediate ones.
The thing with being a kid is that no matter what deal you end up striking with dad, dad always wins. Somehow the parent gets it right and is able to see the hidden side of every deal. Man! Poor Jispa, she too is up against some huge odds. Every deal she makes with us, she ends up on the losing side. But at least look at the brighter side of things, I remember getting an incentive to help clean the wheat and help in the Diwali home cleaning, mopping and wiping. Here all she needs to do is strum a guitar. That’s it. Well... almost.

ROCK on

The amphitheatre was a roman themed one. It was steep, made of stones and full to capacity. There were flashes of brilliance while acting and directing earlier. The crowd was wild and it was funnily enough Jai Hind college. Funnily? Ya. While I have acted on stage for school plays I have never acted in college in a scale play. Largely because my mom wanted me home in time for lunch every day. Have lunch at home. That’s ok though. Possibly students get spoiled while they are at college. Especially when they sit till late and goof around doing nothing but taking part in college activities.

Forget that. So this lovely feeling is going through me. The function is an Oscar styled event with the announcement of the best actors. I feel the excitement and anticipation as they announce the nominees for the best actor. I am a part of it. By this time the nominees are for movies not plays and this is still Jai Hind college in a roman amphitheatre. So the nominees are announced and I hear my name as a part of it. I run in, wearing a denim, long sleeves t shirt and a linen jacket. This is out of my current wardrobe. So I run in to a huge crowd applause. They obviously loved my acting. I think to my self – hey I should be the crowd favorite and that gives me a head start and a realistic chance to win. The show goes on. The winner will be announced later. Right now only the nominees are getting announced. I am extremely excited. I am a bit nervous. It is a lot of pressure. I so want to win this one. But I am also at ease, I know you can’t win them all. But this is the ‘Best Actors’ award. I want to win this one.

So I wait. The lady next to me is eating some peanuts. She is also nominated in her category. I am sitting amongst the nominees. I think about my thank you speech. Whom do I thank for this? At first I am tempted to thank no one. Most of life, a lot of what I have achieved is alone. Well that’s not fair. There have been many who have helped me, nudged me along the way. But has there been a strong continuous force. Fortunately my narcissism lasts me exactly one fourteenth of a second and my wife (in college she was still my girlfriend) comes into view. There, I know whom to thank. And immediately after comes the second thought – my teachers.

In college and school while I was growing, I must have been a difficult head strong child with little manners, outspoken and a pain to a few teachers. Many teachers thought I was an ass, some were ambivalent and some pushed me on, had faith in me and loved me. Mrs Clare Alvaro in Don Bosco high school. She was the one who identified me as an actor and pushed for my case. She thought I was good and let me know that. I always wanted to be an actor. I was the drama man. I could always control my faces in front of the mirror and loved experimenting with my tone. In ninth standard, I finally entered the dramatics and I won the second best actor award. Second best – I knew I was better than the other guy. Mrs clare also told me that later. But then school politics are sometimes real, weird and sometimes, a function of children’s imagination. Then in college one lady, Mrs Dias, believed in me. Enough to make me the secretary of her society – the hobby centre.

In college is also when I came close to Jasmine. She financed me in many ways. My pocket money was a fraction of what she made as a tuition teacher. But more than any of that, she was the anchor of my life. I would dream up interesting stuff and she would manage to make it work. She would be the anchor, the budget keeper of the society and the back bone behind which I worked. She would make things happen that I can dream of, lead into. I was much the figure head, but here was the system that made it all happen. In college in the second year, I won one of the smaller awards for extracurricular. In the final year, Mrs Dias recommended and ensured I won the Principal’s special award for extra-curricular activities. It was on par (or just about lower) than the one for best student. Wow. In some ways it was finishing second best but I am not complaining and I had no desire to win anything. I wasn’t focusing on it at all. The teachers in class liked me as I had decent attendance, enough be off the black list and I was always a good guy as far class participation is concerned. Expect of course in accounts class. The attendance was thanks to Jasmine to kept me in check with a level head, else I might have bloated enough to reach the moon.

Home? Nopes. Absolutely no support from home. They did not even know what I got or cared for it. I also never bothered to talk to them about this stuff. I think like all middle class households, their attitude was – sure – but if you don’t study you are nothing dude. Your marks counts and not all these extras. Forget that.

So it was Jasmine and my teachers that I decided to thank. But from now on, what happens does not count. Jasmine and teachers is what I knew made my life. Right now also teachers who came into my life and taught me stuff that I know and apply are the ones who have made the difference beside Jasmine. As a trainee working in 20^th Century Fox, I met Aditya Shastri who was my mentor and guide. My first brush with management teaching, marketing teaching. Then came Dharen Chaddha, and now it largely my ED who is C Jayaram who I use as my guiding force; and not to forget my cricket captain Arun

But coming back to Jasmine. She never guided me, never pushed me, never really asked too much of me. But she just acted like a rock, giving stability to my otherwise floating life. I might have easily floated away and frittered away my life. She anchored it in a way I cannot describe. Sure we have our fights and sure we have our disagreements. But they come from the fact that I am a dreamer, a floater and she is the ROCK.

What happened next did not bother as now I was in complete control of my dream. The excitement woke me and I was only thinking about winning. My eyes were closed but dream had moved from dream to active fantasy. I won but I thought it was a little empty. Tilll now I was in partial control of my dream, the winning – I was in full control. It wasn’t the magic of a dream anymore. I did not even bother about the speech. I stopped dreaming and I woke up. Its such a pity. This was a really exciting dream.

In post mortem, I realize I dreamt about my real ambition. To be an actor that can make people laugh. Don’t I play that part in office? I surely do that. And I dreamt about the two anchors in my life. Funnily Jispa did not make her presence in the dream. Possibly this was college days and she wasn’t even born. But I still wonder. She is an anchor and she contributes to me but I guess not in the same way as Jasmine and my teachers. It’s a different contribution.

I also remember thinking that I love Jasmine so much. Sometimes I tell Jasmine that I don’t think I can love anyone else ever. I was telling her that sometimes I think, suppose something happens and I were to lose her or something, and if I were to marry again. I might marry but I wont ever be able to love anyone in the same way. The Rock that she replies ‘never say never’. Hah!

I care for a lot of people. In office and outside. A lot of genuine care and loving. I end up being good friends and almost in love with people. But I can never ever be in ‘love’ again I feel. 21 odd years and it can’t be replaced. Possibly a different space in my heart, but not love. Not the way Jasmine and I feel and share.

It’s difficult to explain this. Difficult to understand this, but all know is that - I love my ROCK. I was lucky to have found my rock and latch on to it. It’s been an amazing story as far as I am concerned. And I am so happy that even in my dreams I know of it.

And the contribution of the various teachers who have come and gone, helping me along the way.

What would I have been, done or achieved without them? I would have merely floated … floated and frittered away.

What a special dream. I duuno if I will forget this or remember this, but it moved me enough to get up and write about it immediately. This is really fresh post.

whats a high cost?

I have had some obscenely bad luck with books of late. I don’t know if I have gotten more arrogant there is little to note of new writing coming through. So I have endured one bad book after another. Books with little to say but a lot of words by which to say it. It is really irritating to get one book that you want to finish off after another. Nothing gripping or interesting that keeps you awake or alive, waiting to turn the page. In the niddle I got one interesting one but it was too small. It was the book called ‘jaane bhi do yaaron’ which was based on the making of the movie by the same title. It was well written, well researched and as funny as the movie itself. But that book was too small and I finished it off in one Sunday. That too only in one sitting in the morning followed by an evening sitting. The problem with good books is that they get over pretty fast. Pretty sad nah. So I have been a little irritated with my books. Shopping seems to have lost some of the charm. I can’t even see books on the shelf that makes me want to buy them.
Jispa on the other hand for the first time had a gift for herself in mind. She went roaming with my sister and came back to tell us that “mom, dad, you know what, I know what I want for my birthday”. Her birthday is 4 months away. That is some long range planning. “so what is it?” we ask. “you know, I saw this lovely watch, it has stop watch and light and it has a compass and it only cost 700 rupees. It is dam cool and I like it. Can we buy it on my birthday?”. “Oh well. Jips, you haven’t really ever asked us anything in particular ever. So it’s not important to wait for your birthday. We can buy you that watch this week itself”. Poor thing. She saw her watch and decided that she liked it and even saw the price and figured that 700 is probably a cheap thing. In any case we don’t exactly buy her a whole lot of stuff, so these small things I was more than happy to give right away. Its like this other day when the mangoes were still not in season. But some places the first flush was coming in and Jispa was asking Jasmine, when they would be in season. Jasmine and I have been pretty broke these days with the loan instalments of the new house and we have been a little tight with the money thing. Jispa kept inquiring politely when the mangoes would be in season. She was dying to get her season’s first mango. I told Jasmine to go buy the mangoes. The rate 900 bucks a dozen. Wow. But I figure that Jispa is a good kid and she very rarely, if ever demands/ wishes/ covets something. In many ways she has the least amount of ‘stuff’ amongst all her peers. No game boy, no ipod / ipad, no cell, nothing besides books. So we decided to get her the mangoes.
At 900 bucks a dozen they were the most expensive we would have ever bought. A few weeks later they were to fall to 250 bucks. But hell I can go to sleep thinking that I gave my kid 900 bucks ka mangoes. Hehe. Stupid parenting issues that we face.
Coming back to books. There was one book that many years ago I started reading. It is called ‘ if you meet Buddha on the road, kill him’. I remember reading it years ago and finding it very very good. So good that I kept it back without finishing it, telling myself that I would one day read it, I would in effect one day be ready for it. I can’t believe how right the decision was. In the last few years, a lot f my job role requires me not to do as much work but to work with minds. I am required to counsel my team more than anything else. They probably know what they need to do, they need to reach their peaks in working and it’s largely my job to help them reach there. So the book, which is about a physiotherapist’s story on how he treats and talks to patients. Sometimes I believe that my core job is just listening and coaching. That’s all I am required to do. And the book gives some awesome advice on talking and listening. It’s fun and deep at the same time.
I have always felt that in the past I have been guilty of reading through a book without due respect to eth author and his story line. Why is which chapter arranged such. What is the name of the chapter. I think the name of the chapter also has something to say about the book and it helps in understanding of the book, but I have most of the time chosen to ignore it. This time around with this book, I have trying to understand why the chapters have been arranged so. The way it starts and builds a case, understanding that case before proceeding is an important part of reading a book. I feel that I normally tear away and rape the book. Start digging in immediately for tit bits of data and information that I can peel away, digest and use. Almost a hungry dog gnawing away at piece of thrown meat. There is nothing refined or sublime about my reading style. Just a rape.
I hope his book changes my style. I have learnt to read the back of the book, the prologue, the epilogue, the foreword, the comments, everything. But now I will start by reading the chapter list and keep in mind how the author is seeking to build his case while writing a book. A slow but gradual process that will perhaps help structure his thoughts in my mind.
Here is an interesting tit bit that I read and then reread and then finally captured it here. It is something that I have always maintained. Especially when younger one come to me for advise or issues or simple conversation. I tell everyone that people grow up. I grew up. Life slaps us all very hard and we use these opportunities to grow up. I think it’s given to us as a choice, it is forced down upon us as a growing up ritual. We don’t choose it but we make the choice. We lose every bit of ourselves as we grow up. a lot of it is our innocence. I always tell people ‘you will lose your innocence but hopefully, you will do so at a lesser cost’. In fact the more you resist loss of your innocence the more you will pay the price. It will be wrenched away from you, torn from your body and you will be left with a hardened heart. So many years gone by, and I wonder what became of me. Should I have become as hard as I have become? Could it not have been avoided? Nopes, I have only struggled to retain a core which I am at ease with. A simpler core than makes me happy, that may have been bereft of innocence but hopefully filled with care.
So I quote from the book “And remember, too, you can stay at home, safe in the familiar illusion of certainty. Do not set out without realising that; the way is not without danger. Everything good is costly, and the development of personality is one of the most costly of all things. It will cost you your innocence, your illusions, your certainty.”

go doggy go

Epiphany: a sudden realisation of a meaning of a larger thing or something like that. I love that word and of course I love the feeling you get when you get an epiphany. Well actually sometimes you love it and sometimes when the meaning is not so what you want it to be, the epiphany will probably hurt. As one smart lady told me – an epiphany and a catharsis go hand in hand. Blah blah blah ...
A few days ago I suddenly got one. I could see far more clearly. I suddenly felt lighter. I was smiling throughout the evening. And while sleeping I slept peacefully. Sigh. There is great joy in sleeping without stress. Normally there is stress of work, relationships, money, what ever... something that keeps your mind ticking over. It’s never be that great and I am lucky enough for it but the small ticking also affects. I was so much at rest I thought nothing. I read and then I slept. I don’t even remember any dreams or anything. Sometimes when the mind ticks too much, I have a mid sleep break where I wake up and get into a half sleep zone. There thinking and dreaming merge and while the body is at rest the mind probably is at not. It does affect sleep.
Anyways, just before I slept I had a bb conversation with Dikshi. Who’s she. She is one the prettiest girls who ever worked on my team. Pretty in ever conventional term of the word. When I first interviewed her, I did not really notice she was pretty. But I did notice her eyes. Let me describe her – fair, young, long hair (golden brown), and hazel colour eyes. Funnily enough I only remember those lovely eyes. But she came as a whiff of fresh air. I was interviewing many people for the position of a trainee and I was completely irritated by it all. I had formulated simple questions. What is the formula to calculate the area of a circle? The radius or what is the Pythagoras theorem? And my fav – NaOH + HCl =? Why these questions for a trainee you might ask? Well what else to ask them? Their knowledge on their subjects was pretty much useless to me. How do I know if they retain anything they learn? And this is stuff that they would learn only about 5 years back. So I ask them stuff that is necessary to pass your tenth standard exams. If you know that then I guess you are a decent bloke that retains stuff in your head and not necessarily a guy who mugs stuff.
So Dikshi answered these questions well. She knew the answers, she also seemed pretty smart and she was on. That’s the story here though. The story is that after she joined in, her boss put in her papers and the person she was replacing was going away fast. Soon it would be only she and me managing the entire marketing for that division. A year back there were three experienced people managing the business along with me and now there would only one inexperienced person. The marketing for this was so process oriented with data coming in from various sources and the emphasis on accuracy was extremely high. The stress was crazy. I took Dikshi aside and told her – dude – it’s you and me versus the world. I had only her to rely upon. There were other businesses also that I had to take care of. And she was the one and only small girl, just out of college, into her first job and thrown into the deep end of the ocean...and she performed, admirably performed. I so respect her for that. A few months later when my transfer orders came she told me ‘jaimit sir, you told me, it’s you and me versus the world, now you only are leaving me and going?’. Man I felt so bad that day. Sorry Dikshi, but thank you at the same time. You are awesome.
Most of the time it doesn’t take heroics to be a hero. All you need is doggedness. She did a boring job but she did it with a focus that did not waver. She just hung on and got it done. So many young and not so young turks dot get this. To be a hero most of the time you don’t need extraordinary talents. Surely they help, but what you really need is single mindedness. Most of the times a single word, a single command, well executed can create enough magic for a life time.
Soon after I left, Dikhshi left the firm. She wanted to pursue her studies in fashion management. Poor thing, I respect her even more. She hung, I feel only for me. A fashion manager was doing a boring man’s job. Simple irritating execution of fact sheets. To my mind that is ashining example of what people can do with focus. Got in and did the job well, no matter how bad.
I had a friend in post grad college, Venugopal Acharya. He was a gold medallist in economics and then he did his MBA with me, but in finance. He was one guy I respected tremendously. He has been lost to the hare rama hare krishna movement. But I traced him and caught up with him, many years ago. He was telling me about some of the politics he faced at his firm, Times Guarantee. There as a management trainee he was victimised and then relegated to the stores and library section or something in the times of India building. He was not sad about it at all. He said he hung on and started organising the library. He classified the stuff, put them in order, and started keeping a process. Soon enough, things turned and he got noticed for doing a great job in a place that seemed like Kaalapani. That is also one story I always recount.
Simple focus and doggedness.

in sickness and in health

Oh bloody hell. I got a bout of tonsillitis after how many years. When we first came to India while I was in the fourth standard, every monsoon would be typified by an attack. Straight 104 degrees fever with large enlarged tonsils. Nothing could be done about it. Sometimes an ice candy would do the trick sometimes (almost instantly) the gola would do it or sometimes something else. I was a weak boy and the culprit was tonsils. It was my bête-noir. I remember taking antibiotics after antibiotics. Pink tablets, multi colored capsules and what not. Many times it would just relapse. We actually contemplated just cutting the dam thing off. The incentive for me was when you get them operated the recuperation involves having tons of ice cream and other cold stuff. The healing process after the operation was quite an irony. But my Ayurvedic doc who was our neighbor would have none of it. He kept telling that tonsils are the guards of the mouth. They act like curtains and absorb the primary infection and not let it get inside. Wisdom prevailed and we never got them operated. But I paid a hell of a price for them.
I remained pretty much a thin weakling in childhood, right up to college days. My weight was stuck at 59 kilos. I remember seeing the weighing scale as some sort of a jinx. Whenever I touched 61 I would fall sick again and drop back to 58-59 and a 28 inch tummy. A thin boy of height around 5 feet 8 inches. I have been through chicken pox, jaundice, typhoid, food poisoning and when everything else fails – you have tonsils. Tonsils would attack in monsoon and in winter. I had to really watch what I eat. It came under control after a prolonged Homeopathic treatment after which they only resurfaced as a mild version which I used to take care of myself.
I was tired of my dad and the rest of the family calling me a weakling. I hated it when they made fun of it. I don’t remember my mom making fun of it but like a mommy reaction she was over protective. She wouldn’t give me a greater deal of independence and would stop me from doing a lot of things. She was always afraid I would fall ill. So I would get endless lectures on how I must take care of my health and how the answer to a lot of permissions was always NO. So the curbs on freedom along with the sarcasm was not too enjoyable as a kid. Especially when this alpha male had a deep burning desire to join the Armed forces. It hurt and it hurt bad. So while in college I used to hide my tonsil attack from family. (I wouldn’t risk another lecture or some more restrictions on freedom) … Luckily for me, the intensity was less thanks to the homeopathy. It would be kept in control with crocin, septilin tablets and gargles of turmeric and honey with warm water. I remember those times being lonely. It was me alone with my pet peeve.
Life has enough lessons to teach. You simply do what you like being done to you and don’t what you hate. Being a weak sickly child I faced the brunt of a sarcastic family. I don’t mean to harsh on them and I hold them no ill will. They did take care of me. My mom and dad did their best. But it’s being at the receiving end of a joke that I hate. I did not ask for this. I inherited your genes. I don’t try and fall ill. It happens. Shit happens. The least I can expect is some care or some sympathy. Sometimes I wonder these jokes we crack at our children might leave them permanently scarred. Now after many years of confidence building through performance and understanding I can take some shit being thrown at me. At those times, these just left me with self doubt if I could really make it in the big bad world.
So the flip side – I end being extra caring with people who are unwell. I of all people know that it’s not your fault. I have learnt to look at medicines and ask what they are for. I have learnt to research my issues on my own and get a better understanding of them. Understanding them is the first step towards accepting them and solving them. Some cant be solved but a lot can be done by simply accepting and moving on. It gives you mental stability. And a little caring shown in other people’s issue helps them solve their issues far better and faster. Hence I don’t make fun of any body’s medical issues. No matter how sleight. I try and research or look it up, understand the illness and then possibly prod people on. Its amazing how a simple understanding and a scientific temperament helps understand and deal with issues. Even you cant do that, just don’t screw with their minds. They did not ask for it and they don’t exactly like being there.
Sometimes I wonder what it might have been to be a healthy kid. Today I am at 69 kilos and reasonably fit. I out run everybody at the parents race and have been doing so ever since I took part. In school and college I was never the fastest one. I never got a medal in school for this. I have always maintained that I possibly deteriorated slower than the others, but I think I actually improved. Not falling sick so often I think I have given my body the opportunity to be what it does best. Be active and fast. With a naturally thin torso and somehow fitter than average legs, I think I would have done well in sports. But the tonsils never let me. Never.
So my bête-noir, nice seeing you again. We meet after a long hiatus. I thought I had dispatched you to kryptonite. But it seems you have made it back. As we sit face to face, you have won part one of the battle. I remember you always attacking while I swam. But I am going to continue swimming. I cant lose to you. I know you will relapse as well, but I will take care. Warm water with turmeric held me in the past and they will hold so in the future.
This time the attack is ferocious. After many years I have had to resort to allopathic medicine. I hate it. The cocktail of pills can’t be true. Two sets of antibiotics with another few vitamins… arrg. I hate them. I had to discontinue my ayurvedic as it got too long for an attack this ferocious. Yesterday I got medicine injected intravenously. That gave me instant relief but I so hate it. I know that antibiotic cocktails kill my body but the pressure to get well and restart life has been too much this time around for me. Sometimes I wonder how we live with this pressure.
I want to dedicate my life to a life without pressure. Will I be able to push people to achieve without using the tools of pressure? Will people who work with me be able to perform with pressure? You just have to take on your team people who are willing to perform without the burden of pressure. Those who naturally take it on and don’t feel it from top. It comes in from within… but hold… this is another blog post. Right now weren’t we on earth versus kryptonite.
Yes. So the villain is back. My cocktail infusion has got me up and hopefully walking for now. I lost two kgs in the process. Matter not my friend. I resent you not. You taught me how to live with others. You taught me empathy in sorrow. You taught me life. I am possibly a better human being thanks to you. Possibly like most villains you are not a villain after all. You are me. We can’t live without each other. The presence of one defines the other. Yes. What would I be without you dear boy. What would I be? Possibly an ass who finds pleasure or sarcasm in misery. No. the price of health is way too much. I would take tonsils any day. BRING THEM ON!