When I was a kid I always fancied myself as an actor. I knew I had the emotional range, I knew I did not have stage fright and it surely can’t take this much to win an elocution competition. I could be loud, I could be clear and I could have tons of expressions. But the truth is… I did not win any competition. How could I? you need to take part if you want to win.
Jispa has taken part every year in her school elocution competition. She is pretty cool, loud and she loves to modulate her voice and give out emotions while reciting. But she never hit the first place yet. Either second or third. That is good for me. I always wanted her to participate but I was pretty cool, if she won or not. Winning is a combination of a lot of things. The choice of poetry is also important. It must be difficult, allow for a range of emotions, long and stuff like that. So finishing in the top tree ain’t too bad.
Especially as Jispa is home coached in elocution. A lot of them from school go for elocution or speech and drama class. I find the very idea ridiculous. Why would need a class for this. Of course as one grows up and if one wants to this up seriously then it’s important to do it professionally, but for now I think the classes for the kids in the subject is nothing but a sham. And of all people, I can do enough for her now. So far I seem to have been proven right.
Our process – first thing, Jasmine and me sit and search for the right poetry. In the English elocution, I just have to open my collection of Shel Silverstein books and there – a large collection of fun poems that allow for tone to be varied during the recital as well as allow for a crucial twist in the end. For Hindi, the problem is far more severe. Till last year, we had a collection of cheap Hindi books that helped us choose a nice poem. Fun poem. But now we have exhausted the stock. No more long, fun, interesting poems there.
So this year I hit the internet in the hope of searching for a nice poem. But I did not even know where to start – elocution poems for kids? Harivanshrai Bacchan? What should I search for? I tried a few forums, a few blogs, anything; in the hope that I would hit something at least. I had been in the past searching for a poem I heard in my school elocution competition. I remember it being funny and the guy had won the competition. All I could remember of it was – gol hai kaise dhara, gol puri papad, isliya masterji, dhara bhi gol hai, marks bhi gol hai… something something. These were just words in between. They weren’t even coherent lines of the paragraph. All these years I returned a blank.
This time while searching on the net I tried some phrases from the poem again and BINGO! It was bloody there. I found the poem. I went crazy. After all these years. I must have been in the eight grade – that’s about in the year 1989 I must have heard the poem for the first time and then I saw it again. The poem name was Vinti (full poem at the end of the blog). Wow. I read through it. It was the same funny poem. But there was one catch. It seemed too advanced for Jispa. In fact to seemed too advanced for me. I did not understand some words I did not know how to pronounce some other words. Dam. What to do?
I showed Jasmine and decided to send the print to school and let the teacher decide. It got selected and we proceeded to get Jispa to learn it. We went too sure of a lot of meanings and pronunciations so we specifically asked Jispa to get it checked form her school Hindi teacher. And we explained the general meaning of the words, sentences and the poem to Jispa. Jispa is now a pro. She put in her own emotions and all we have to do is to mildly correct it here and there. Jasmine and I are also pretty tired these days. We have our hands full managing Jispa’s hectic schedule. We hardly have any time left for practicing elocution. In the evenings, jispa comes home and eats and gets ready and poof… she is asleep.
So Jispa put in a lot of emotions herself and a lot of the grammar and pronunciations were taken care of by her teacher. We put in a few corrections and she was off to go. She told me that her elocution date is a few days off, and then on the D day in the morning, I suddenly asked – it’s today isn’t it. AH yes. ok. best of luck. Jasmine went “aren’t you supposed to wear your normal uniform today for the elocution?”. Oops. Today she was wearing her PE uniform as it was PE day. So I ran inside to iron her uniform and we packed it in and left. One quick round and a few guidelines, a few reminders to be loud and clear and …. She was on her own.
19th Jan 2012. Also our 13th marriage anniversary. Jasmine calls in the afternoon and says “your daughter is such an ass.” “Now what?” I enquire. “She came in and looked all sad. She got in the car and turned her face towards the glass and refused to talk. I kept asking her what happened and then she turned and screamed – I WON!”. Yaaaaaa… good one wow... let me talk to her now..
Now I have always maintained. Forget the results, just focus on having a good time and whether the crowd laughed or clapped. The result is the judge’s problem. That’s what I always told her. SO while I was excited how could I show that on the call? I was excited beyond all what I thought I would be. so I said, “ hey, wow, Dam cool, did the crowd enjoy?” I tried recollecting all the questions I asked the last year when she finished second best and asked them again – when did the crowd laugh, which part they found funny, what did the teachers say, did the judges laugh etc etc. She said, that she came first and she beat K (name withheld). K is the one who normally comes in first. She goes for drama class and Jispa looks up to her. Jispa normally resigns to second place knowing that K is better.
It was a tough moment. I was on top of the world. I did not know that winning the elocution meant so much to me as well. Why? Not that I wanted her to win so much. I was perfectly ok missing first place, coming second or third. Finishing strong and pushing the barriers was what I was always keen on. As I said ‘the result is for the judge, not for the participant’.
I came home to hear the story better. Jispa was a little nervous this time it seemed when the results were getting announced. She was a bit jittery, when the third place was announced. Then there was a joint second result with K and I. Here is where she got ‘wobbly knees’ in her words. She was excited and possibly scared. All or nothing situation. And then it was announced that she had WON! She screamed and she felt like crying. She said that her eyes were moist and she was really excited. Those around her, wished her and some it seems hugged her. And when she went to class, the girls all pounced on her like every time. She is a legend in her class. K is one year older to her and hence in a higher class.
I came in and was emotional for the rest of the evening. I don’t know why – I felt ecstatic and I felt like crying as well. I think over time my tears seemed to have been dried up but I definitely felt the twinge in my eyes. I also felt like screaming and I felt like jumping. I did not know it meant so much to me, I had no clue. Why was I feeling so strong about this? I kept looking at jasmine and I thought I would burst any time. Jasmine knows how much I have wanted to act and how much this means to me.
While I was having a shower, jasmine comes in and tells me. “I told jispa, that papa is always proud of you, but this time he is extra proud of you.” Then she said that “Jispa said, that’s because papa likes elocution a lot nah and he taught me a lot of it and I corrected her saying that papa always wanted to do these things but never got to”. I came off the shower and went to put Jispa to sleep. As usual, her legs were hurting from the swimming and I was to oil and massage her legs. Jispa spoke “I know why you are extra proud of me”. Well yes “I am extra proud, because I always wanted to do well in elocution. When I was in school, we were three kids. India wasn’t so rich, so our parents did what they did best, pushed us to study. We had only one chance to do well in life, and that was by being good in studies. So they pushed us for that and did not encourage us for elocution. I wanted to be a part of elocution, or drama or debate, mom would not really encourage. The only time I did something was when I refused to listen to her and took part in dramatics to win the second best actors award in the play ‘the watermelon cure’. We were asked to study. Mom was busy with running a nursery to get some extra cash, then three kids, home work and everything else. so she focused only on study study study. So funnily while I always tell you it not so important to win, suddenly I am all excited and extra proud now that you have won. It a funny feeling”
Three days hence also while writing this blog I am so bloody emotional. When I first saw her on stage in school, I was a bit emotional. Now that she did well in elocution I am emotional. It means much more than what I thought it meant. What the hell. How little we know of ourselves. As parents the dreams we dream for our kids in spite of our best efforts are bloody ours. We keep trying to avoid mistakes our parents made (or seemed to have made), we want for them what we would have wanted for ourselves, we give them the infrastructure we wished for and want them to win what we wanted to. Funny. This all in spite of repeatedly, and intentionally trying to be a parent that says, its your life, your desires, your feelings. Live them the way you want to. Well at least we are aware of this. What about the kids who parents push them hard towards their own dreams. We may not push, but I got so emotional when she achieved what I buried well down inside of me. My God, am I tired, happy and content. I slept thinking I don’t want anything else of her… at least for now :). Till dream again… knowing or unknowingly.
---- ps - how tough it is to be a parent. I was visibly excited in office and one friend said, take something for her today, a gift. I said - how can I? I always tell her its not important to win and I show no great emotion - win or lose - how can I take a gift for WINNING if i dont take for losing? dam parenting. Bloody hell.
http://www.hyd-masti.com/2008/05/vinti.html
Vinti
hey prabhu itni vinay meri sun lijiye,
is baar meri naav ko us paar tho kar deejiye,
my nahi dartha pralay se ya kisis toofan se,
kaampti hai ruh meri par sadha imthihaan se.
taay-taay taay taay roj rat tha hoon prabhu,
raat din panne palatha hoon prabhu,
bhagya mein na jaane kaun sa abhishaab hai,
raat ko ratna subah maidaan milta saaf hai.
akal ko algebra jayegi jad se pacha,
3 mein se 6 gaye tho aur kya baaki bacha,
pee gayi english humari khopadi ke khoon ko
main samaj na paaya is betuke majmoon ko
paas hona chahata tha fail mujhko kar diya,
zindagi bhar main likh na paya chekislovakiya.
naash ho itihaas ka sun ke samundar beh gaye,
mar gaye woh log rone ke liye hum rah gaye,
shah jahan, humayun, akbar sahab tha,
kaun tha beta na jaane kaun kiska baap tha,
bhoo gol mein ek prashn aaya gol hai kaise dhara.
ek hi pal mein humne likh diya uttar se khara,
gol poodi, kachodi, poohe, papad gol hai,
gol ras gulla, jalebi gol laddu gol hai,
jhoom uthe masterji is anokhe gyaan se
likh diya parche par unhone badi shaan se,
teek hai beta humari lekhni bhi gol hai,
gol hai syahi humari, number bhi tumhara gol hai.
kya karo hindi, maana mujhko isme aata nahi,
laakh sir jakhjhortha kuch samaj pata nahi
gadhya ho ya padhya dono kaal hai mere liye,
dono samajho ji ka janjaal hai mere liye
haay hindi ki jagah main aaj hinda likh gaya,
bainsa ko pashu ki jagah main parinda likh gaya,
prabho chod kar saare sahare aagaya hoon dwaar par,
maar ghoonsa laat thaapad kintu baed paar kar,
hai dayamay har tarah se main daya ka paatr hoon,
naam hai deepti mera is desh ki chaatr hoon.
SANDHYA SHANKAR
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
no fun robbing what you get on a platter
I have often said that my parenting rule is not to make the mistakes that I thought my parents did. Also at the same time I love remembering the stuff I enjoyed and I try to get the same thing done with Jispa. But I think I might rob her of some fun by being a little over enthusiastic parent.
Look at the picture below. Does it ring a bell? Does it evoke fond memories of raiding fridges and having it when no one was looking?
We often had an open can of milkmaid in the fridge. Milkmaid for uninitiated is sweetened condensed milk. Yummy. It is often used in Indian recipes like kheer or the sorts. So whenever mom made stuff like kheer or halwa we often had a half-finished can lying in the fridge. One of the things we kids loved to do, was raid the fridge. And an open milkmaid can was a really mouthwatering invitation. We dived in and put our finger in it and then ran out licking the finger. Of course we also used a spoon. I don’t think that was for reasons of hygiene. It was plain greed. A spoon carries much more than your finger.
Slowly but surely the half-finished can would become empty and mom would reach out and scream – who ate the milkmaid. Well, it was a pretty useless question. There are three kids in the house. Everyone knows that we all ate it, one spoon at a time. And during vacations it was one spoon at a time, three times a day – just like the doctor ordered :). That’s nine spoons a day. Enough to finish it in 4 to 5 days. But it was so yum. Nobody would own up and mom would simply get exasperated.
The condensed milk was bought just to make the delicacies and not to be consumed raw. It was a treat, not regular meals. But how can you explain that to three kids.
Recently I got Jasmine to buy condensed milk to make fruit salad. I was explaining to her how it’s done. We simply add half a can to a litre of milk and put in as many fruits you can think of. So obviously half a can was left to consume in whichever way we wish. I called Jispa. I was a bit surprised; she did not know what this was. She hadn’t tasted condensed milk yet. I guess it’s a cultural thing. My mom made a lot of stuff using condensed milk but Jasmine doesn’t use it a lot. She simply boils the milk for some time and makes her own. Hence while I loved it while growing up, jispa seems to have so far passed it by.
Not wanting her to miss out on this, I made her taste it. YUMMMY… she went. How can anyone pass up on think sweetened milk? It’s an instant like button. Then I put a spoon in it. See pic above and I told her, it’s in the fridge. You can have it any time. Just be careful not to drop it while eating it. It is quite gooey.
So I gave her the freedom to do something I loved doing, but I unwittingly took a crucial element out of it, which probably made it quite flat. I removed the forbidden from forbidden fruit. So while she will like it, she will never be able to write a blog on how she robbed a few spoons from the fridge. Whoops. I just sanitized her childhood.I even put it in the fridge with a spoon inside. :(
Jispa also doesn’t raid the fridge a lot. She seems content most of the time. Also most of the time, Jasmine is trying to get her to eat. And as she is a swimming kid, we try to get her to eat sweets, chocolates and the works. Why would you raid something that is forced down your throat?
Also another crucial thing is that she doesn’t have siblings. We were three of us. If something went missing, whom can you blame? It’s impossible to get to the root of the crime. Most of the time parents will run in circles trying to apportion blame. Here, Jispa will be the only person found at the scene of the crime. But a lot of times, I try and fill that gap. I irritate her and then she gets angry and complaints to mom and I tell her it’s futile, you will only make Jasmine irritated and you will get equal shit. Yet she complains and I make faces behind Jasmine. This time Jasmine saw me doing it the last time and I got a scolding from her and Jispa was pretty happy. Jasmine keeps saying – she has two kids in the house.
Hmmm. The curse of parenting – no matter what you try, you will always miss something. To not allow milkmaid is being mean, to allow is to remove the fun of raiding it.
Look at the picture below. Does it ring a bell? Does it evoke fond memories of raiding fridges and having it when no one was looking?
We often had an open can of milkmaid in the fridge. Milkmaid for uninitiated is sweetened condensed milk. Yummy. It is often used in Indian recipes like kheer or the sorts. So whenever mom made stuff like kheer or halwa we often had a half-finished can lying in the fridge. One of the things we kids loved to do, was raid the fridge. And an open milkmaid can was a really mouthwatering invitation. We dived in and put our finger in it and then ran out licking the finger. Of course we also used a spoon. I don’t think that was for reasons of hygiene. It was plain greed. A spoon carries much more than your finger.
Slowly but surely the half-finished can would become empty and mom would reach out and scream – who ate the milkmaid. Well, it was a pretty useless question. There are three kids in the house. Everyone knows that we all ate it, one spoon at a time. And during vacations it was one spoon at a time, three times a day – just like the doctor ordered :). That’s nine spoons a day. Enough to finish it in 4 to 5 days. But it was so yum. Nobody would own up and mom would simply get exasperated.
The condensed milk was bought just to make the delicacies and not to be consumed raw. It was a treat, not regular meals. But how can you explain that to three kids.
Recently I got Jasmine to buy condensed milk to make fruit salad. I was explaining to her how it’s done. We simply add half a can to a litre of milk and put in as many fruits you can think of. So obviously half a can was left to consume in whichever way we wish. I called Jispa. I was a bit surprised; she did not know what this was. She hadn’t tasted condensed milk yet. I guess it’s a cultural thing. My mom made a lot of stuff using condensed milk but Jasmine doesn’t use it a lot. She simply boils the milk for some time and makes her own. Hence while I loved it while growing up, jispa seems to have so far passed it by.
Not wanting her to miss out on this, I made her taste it. YUMMMY… she went. How can anyone pass up on think sweetened milk? It’s an instant like button. Then I put a spoon in it. See pic above and I told her, it’s in the fridge. You can have it any time. Just be careful not to drop it while eating it. It is quite gooey.
So I gave her the freedom to do something I loved doing, but I unwittingly took a crucial element out of it, which probably made it quite flat. I removed the forbidden from forbidden fruit. So while she will like it, she will never be able to write a blog on how she robbed a few spoons from the fridge. Whoops. I just sanitized her childhood.I even put it in the fridge with a spoon inside. :(
Jispa also doesn’t raid the fridge a lot. She seems content most of the time. Also most of the time, Jasmine is trying to get her to eat. And as she is a swimming kid, we try to get her to eat sweets, chocolates and the works. Why would you raid something that is forced down your throat?
Also another crucial thing is that she doesn’t have siblings. We were three of us. If something went missing, whom can you blame? It’s impossible to get to the root of the crime. Most of the time parents will run in circles trying to apportion blame. Here, Jispa will be the only person found at the scene of the crime. But a lot of times, I try and fill that gap. I irritate her and then she gets angry and complaints to mom and I tell her it’s futile, you will only make Jasmine irritated and you will get equal shit. Yet she complains and I make faces behind Jasmine. This time Jasmine saw me doing it the last time and I got a scolding from her and Jispa was pretty happy. Jasmine keeps saying – she has two kids in the house.
Hmmm. The curse of parenting – no matter what you try, you will always miss something. To not allow milkmaid is being mean, to allow is to remove the fun of raiding it.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
new things
Hey, Christmas passed us by without Santa visiting. He broke a tradition lasting more than five years I think. Oops. Are nine years old off Santa’s visiting list? This time Jispa was spending the Christmas at her Nani’s house. Jasmine and I all forgot about it till in the evening. We then called Jispa to ask her about it. Oh its ok she said. I don’t want anything this time around.
Normally Jispa’s always a content kid. She doesn’t ask for too much. She is ok with what she has. So Christmas is no great occasion. From when I can remember, she was always happy to ask for some small gift, that too on being repeatedly asked. So I don’t really understand the stress stories about parents rushing to buy the Christmas toy. It’s so Hollywood! Possibly we still have some time before crass commercialization pervades our lives. I guess I am happy that Jispa was born at a slightly better time. I see it getting more and more commercial as the toy shops keep opening in the city. Five years back we hardly had shops dedicated to toys. I remember once going to a shop called big tom or something in Colaba. It was the only half decent Toy shop at the time along with another one called ‘souvenirs’. There is one tucked away in breach candy behind Premsons as well. But none of them were anywhere near the experience that Hamleys, which opened in Phoenix, provides.
So I asked Jispa – “do you really believe in Santa?”. “I don’t know” she replied. “serious, tell me”. “I think I believe around 70%”. What the hell. Ya sure. The kid is kidding with me. She is playing me. I am sure she knows there is no such thing and she knows that its dad and mom writing and gifting, but she seems to be enjoying the ride. I guess here I am at fault. Because I think that it was me who told her – it doesn’t matter whether you believe in it or not. You got your gift and that’s something real. Right? Hehehe. Parenting is a circle. You get back exactly what you give.
So this Year, jispa was not surprised and excited on Christmas eve. I remember her five years ago getting all excited about Christmas and super excited that Santa had come in the night while she was asleep. That video is my favorite video. You know we take a lot of photographs and videos. We see the photos immediately after the trip or occasion, but the videos are the real hero. The value of the video dramatically increases after a period of time. You want to sit and watch old videos. Somehow the photos just get lost. Possibly because there are too many of them. There are atleast two for every moment.
When we were kids dad had photography as a hobby. He bought an SLR – was it Nikon or Cannon?. He bought a set that included a camera, standard lens, a wide angle lens and a tele lens for shooting long distance. Then he went and got a slide projector. So he shot most of his photos with a slide reel which was different from the normal reel you put inside the camera. If anyone reads this post after 15 years – yes – upto ten years back we put reels in cameras. They could typically take upto 36 photos and then we would send it to the photo lab for processing and printing. So dad would have these slides that we would project on the wall using a projector. The projector was a really wild thing. No one I knew had one in India. (remember – we were a deprived country). So photo sessions were family time when the whole family huddled around the hall, pulled the curtains and watched the slides of vacations and events. It was a fun thing. We would even subject guests to this torture. We assumed they loved it. In India, I think they were just too dazed with all this technology to say anything. Set up the projector on the stool and start. The fight amongst siblings was to control the remote for the projector that sent the slides forward or backward. Just for the record the remote was not cordless. That was fun.
I enjoyed it so much that a lot of my photos till around the time Jispa was born were on slides. Our trip to Leh as well. I think I bought my first digital camera in 2004. Mom never actually let me use Dad’s camera too much. It was expensive equipment and we must use it with care. It soon rusted away with no real use. The wheel of progress is brutal. It is important to discard to get something new. Throw out the old to make space for something new.
The pace of this change seems too fast, it seems to have quickened. I think it’s just that we were not used to it. A protected environment holds on to the old. I guess it realizes that new will not come in a hurry. But if you break these shackles and constantly update yourself with something new, you will find yourself forced to throw out the old. Sure there is warm comfort in the known, but progress lies with the unknown. Not that it is good or bad. It’s not a value judgment, but merely an observation. Whne in doubt – go for the new.
Normally Jispa’s always a content kid. She doesn’t ask for too much. She is ok with what she has. So Christmas is no great occasion. From when I can remember, she was always happy to ask for some small gift, that too on being repeatedly asked. So I don’t really understand the stress stories about parents rushing to buy the Christmas toy. It’s so Hollywood! Possibly we still have some time before crass commercialization pervades our lives. I guess I am happy that Jispa was born at a slightly better time. I see it getting more and more commercial as the toy shops keep opening in the city. Five years back we hardly had shops dedicated to toys. I remember once going to a shop called big tom or something in Colaba. It was the only half decent Toy shop at the time along with another one called ‘souvenirs’. There is one tucked away in breach candy behind Premsons as well. But none of them were anywhere near the experience that Hamleys, which opened in Phoenix, provides.
So I asked Jispa – “do you really believe in Santa?”. “I don’t know” she replied. “serious, tell me”. “I think I believe around 70%”. What the hell. Ya sure. The kid is kidding with me. She is playing me. I am sure she knows there is no such thing and she knows that its dad and mom writing and gifting, but she seems to be enjoying the ride. I guess here I am at fault. Because I think that it was me who told her – it doesn’t matter whether you believe in it or not. You got your gift and that’s something real. Right? Hehehe. Parenting is a circle. You get back exactly what you give.
So this Year, jispa was not surprised and excited on Christmas eve. I remember her five years ago getting all excited about Christmas and super excited that Santa had come in the night while she was asleep. That video is my favorite video. You know we take a lot of photographs and videos. We see the photos immediately after the trip or occasion, but the videos are the real hero. The value of the video dramatically increases after a period of time. You want to sit and watch old videos. Somehow the photos just get lost. Possibly because there are too many of them. There are atleast two for every moment.
When we were kids dad had photography as a hobby. He bought an SLR – was it Nikon or Cannon?. He bought a set that included a camera, standard lens, a wide angle lens and a tele lens for shooting long distance. Then he went and got a slide projector. So he shot most of his photos with a slide reel which was different from the normal reel you put inside the camera. If anyone reads this post after 15 years – yes – upto ten years back we put reels in cameras. They could typically take upto 36 photos and then we would send it to the photo lab for processing and printing. So dad would have these slides that we would project on the wall using a projector. The projector was a really wild thing. No one I knew had one in India. (remember – we were a deprived country). So photo sessions were family time when the whole family huddled around the hall, pulled the curtains and watched the slides of vacations and events. It was a fun thing. We would even subject guests to this torture. We assumed they loved it. In India, I think they were just too dazed with all this technology to say anything. Set up the projector on the stool and start. The fight amongst siblings was to control the remote for the projector that sent the slides forward or backward. Just for the record the remote was not cordless. That was fun.
I enjoyed it so much that a lot of my photos till around the time Jispa was born were on slides. Our trip to Leh as well. I think I bought my first digital camera in 2004. Mom never actually let me use Dad’s camera too much. It was expensive equipment and we must use it with care. It soon rusted away with no real use. The wheel of progress is brutal. It is important to discard to get something new. Throw out the old to make space for something new.
The pace of this change seems too fast, it seems to have quickened. I think it’s just that we were not used to it. A protected environment holds on to the old. I guess it realizes that new will not come in a hurry. But if you break these shackles and constantly update yourself with something new, you will find yourself forced to throw out the old. Sure there is warm comfort in the known, but progress lies with the unknown. Not that it is good or bad. It’s not a value judgment, but merely an observation. Whne in doubt – go for the new.
Monday, January 02, 2012
What parent are you?
The big girl doesn’t like skinny fit jeans. She doesn’t like them period. But didn’t we ask you before we bought them? Did you not try them out? Yes I did. Yes I said yes, but I don’t like them anymore. Arrggghhhh! Now you tell me what should we as parents do?
Should we just be sweet parents and say – Oh its ok sweet heart? That’s all right. You can just buy stuff and then decide not to wear them, because you don’t like them. Its ok to change your mind. Or should we tell her, no you bought them you will wear them. You better not throw them. Or should we say – hey. That’s not done but its ok… this time is ok but the next time, you are in for trouble if you do that. Or I am not going to buy you anything else. or if you throw them then the next pair of denims are going to come from your pocket money. A ha… the last one also promotes that its ok to throw as long as you can afford to do so. Money comes and money goes, its ok.
And hold on – it’s not that this is happening for the first time. We have bought stuff before after she has tried them and then decided that she doesn’t like them. She gets stuck on certain things. If there is a phase of denims then it’s that, shorts – then it’s that – one particular t shirt – then that’s that. The problem is giving too much of choice to your young one. Well it’s not that it is a problem. We are teaching them to think. To choose and then to be responsible for their decisions.
With movies – Jispa seems to have a definite choice when it comes to movies. There are movies she wants to see and those she doesn’t want to. It might be this and I might not like it and blah blah. She tends to stay within the baby animations which are always a safe bet. While we were renting movies, I had to put my foot down and get her to rent movies like Flubber, Jumanji and honey I shrunk the kids. I am taking them as I am not watching any more kiddie animations. Sure I like animations but there is a limit to it. I can’t watch animations all the time, especially if I have seen them multiple times. I even had to put my foot down and take complete silly movies like Daddy day care, just to change her genre of movies. See other movies dude. Just recently she did not want to see Tintin. Dam you man. It’s a nice movie. I did not insist too much as I hate watching 3D movies and funnily I haven’t come across any one in my circle who actually enjoys watching them. But that is another story. So I kept quiet till I saw that there was a show in Regal in 2D. Ok that’s not so bad is it? So I put my foot down again and we ended up seeing it. All these movies Jispa has come out happy. She liked them all.
I then rib her – you did not want to see it nah? Yesterday I sat her down and had a chat – dude – you have to see other stuff in life. You have to experiment. Just because you might not like it doesn’t mean that you don’t see it. Come on man. Why would you not take the risk? What do you have to lose?
Helicopter parents – from Wikipedia
“Helicopter parent is a colloquial, early 21st-century term for a parent who pays extremely close attention to his or her child's or children's experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. The term was originally coined by Foster W. Cline, M.D. and Jim Fay in their 1990 book Parenting with Love and Logic: Teaching Children Responsibility, although Dr. Haim Ginott mentions a teen who complains, "Mother hovers over me like a helicopter..." on page 18 of the bestselling book Between Parent & Teenager published in 1969. Helicopter parents are so named because, like helicopters, they hover closely overhead, rarely out of reach, whether their children need them or not. In Scandinavia, this phenomenon is known as curling parenthood and describes parents who attempt to sweep all obstacles out of the paths of their children. It is also called "overparenting". Parents try to resolve their child's problems, and try to stop them coming to harm by keeping them out of dangerous situations.
Some college professors and administrators are now referring to "Lawnmower parents" to describe mothers and fathers who attempt to smooth out and mow down all obstacles, to the extent that they may even attempt to interfere at their children's workplaces, regarding salaries and promotions, after they have graduated from college and are supposedly living on their own. As the children of "helicopter parents" graduate and move into the job market, personnel and human resources departments are becoming acquainted with the phenomenon as well. Some have reported that parents have even begun intruding on salary negotiations.”
Dam hell… there is a thin line between helicopter parents and involved parents. We can have more than one child as we want to be involved with the child. We face bumps and trials as kids and we struggled to ensure that our kids have easier lives, but not that easy. What is ‘that’ easy? How easy is easy. How tough is tough. How big is a big bump? What should be allowed and what should be disallowed? These are difficult questions as there is no mathematical formula. Or even a magical one.
To take the case of the lawnmower parent – what’s the opposite of that one? Speed Breaker parent? When we see that it’s possible to just chuck the jeans out of the window and say – forget it kid. It’s only a denim and it’s ok. That’s being a lawnmower, but then to say no – shut up and wear it, that’s being a speed breaker parent. The road is smooth but you are throwing up speed breakers to break the speed. But then to know about it and to try and do something about it –this way or that – that’s being a helicopter parent. What the hell. You just can’t win. So you are trying to balance the act this way or the other. I don’t want to be a helicopter, a speed breaker or a lawn mower. I want to be DAD! Plain and simple DAD. I want her to grow up but not get too hurt. I want her to be independent but yet be able to connect. I want to play with her yet let her go to her friends place to play. I want her to experience different things, new flavors, and new ideas, break out… yet be happy being by herself within the warmth of familiarity. Oh God…How difficult can that be?
As we grow up together – I am molding her and she is molding me / us. That’s parenting. So I guess that’s Clay Parenting. Soft enough and hard enough. Just right for molding. Not fall in a heap and not hard enough to use a chisel. And not play dough that you can keep playing with. Everything we do will slowing have lasting impressions. Like a potter’s wheel, it’s constantly on. Constantly shaping. Only thing is that in the cliché one expects the child to be the clay as the potter is molding but here, we all are clay and we all are potters.
Aila – too much philosophy for now. Now can I borrow an action movie please?
Foot notes: -
a quiz to help you figure if you are a helicopter parent (here)
A small comic :)
TIME -The growing backlash against over parenting (here) -
CNN – How to ground a helicopter parent (here)
FOOT FOOT NOTE –
Jispa told us only a few days back but this happened some time back in class. Her teacher asked a question to the class ‘why are flamingoes pink’. One kid answered because they eat pink fish. Teacher said – very good. Good answer. Jispa raised her arm and said, no miss. It is because of the algae they eat. NO that’s wrong. Oh God. Flamingoes don’t eat fish. They eat algae and shrimp. And they get the pink color from the algae and shrimp. It seems they have something like carotenoids that given the flamingos the color. Now what do you want us parents to do? So I checked Google and told Jispa that she was right and her teacher was wrong, to which Jispa said, the chapter on birds is over. I said ok and next time if she says something that the teacher doesn’t know, come back and we will check it up. Then you can go to school with the right answer and a print out if you wish. Or forget it. At least now she knows that her teachers aren’t the final authority in this world. Google can change a lot.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
daily Bananas
Christmas decorations on my cabin using post-its. Inspired by the post-it wars.
Dam it. We played cricket on this road 25 years ago. There were no cars parked. No traffic. The pitch was on the right side and there were shots all over. In fact I even remember playing across the road. You bowl from one pavement and you bat at the other. For those who wonder why kids don’t play outside – here is ONE answer.
Office is fun, especially if you have a sword and a hapless trainee.
What do you do if you have strawberries and truffles in your fridge. You melt the truffles and put them in the strawberry. That’s what.
Yup… this is what happens to them next.
Bananas. I really empathize and respect jispa. Poor thing eats bananas every day. In the morning thrice a week, she has to eat them and got to the pool. In the evening, it’s a small snack before she goes for a swim. Anyone will hate bananas, if you have to eat so many of them. Jispa likes them but is completely fed up of them. You just mention the word three four times and she will stop talking to you. Serious. I eat them in the morning and they have begun to fry my brains.
This Sky walk is used for something at least. Free propaganda is probably an important element in democracy.
Here Jasmine is explaining to Jispa what a ‘Habuk ‘means. A little too publicly :)
At café coffee day – the per unit cost of cookies doesn’t make sense. Its cheapest when you buy less and then goes up as you buy bigger packs and comes down again but not lower than the lowest pack.
there is a smile waiting for you everywhere
Bonus Video – some inspirational stuff for those who need Stallone to inspire them. Next time you are depressed, lost and down, may I suggest the complete Rocky collection. It has wisdom for all your situations, on top, below, down under… etc… given by coaches, children, wives, friends … everything. There is one Rocky for every possible depressed need.
Dam it. We played cricket on this road 25 years ago. There were no cars parked. No traffic. The pitch was on the right side and there were shots all over. In fact I even remember playing across the road. You bowl from one pavement and you bat at the other. For those who wonder why kids don’t play outside – here is ONE answer.
Office is fun, especially if you have a sword and a hapless trainee.
What do you do if you have strawberries and truffles in your fridge. You melt the truffles and put them in the strawberry. That’s what.
Yup… this is what happens to them next.
Bananas. I really empathize and respect jispa. Poor thing eats bananas every day. In the morning thrice a week, she has to eat them and got to the pool. In the evening, it’s a small snack before she goes for a swim. Anyone will hate bananas, if you have to eat so many of them. Jispa likes them but is completely fed up of them. You just mention the word three four times and she will stop talking to you. Serious. I eat them in the morning and they have begun to fry my brains.
This Sky walk is used for something at least. Free propaganda is probably an important element in democracy.
Here Jasmine is explaining to Jispa what a ‘Habuk ‘means. A little too publicly :)
At café coffee day – the per unit cost of cookies doesn’t make sense. Its cheapest when you buy less and then goes up as you buy bigger packs and comes down again but not lower than the lowest pack.
there is a smile waiting for you everywhere
Bonus Video – some inspirational stuff for those who need Stallone to inspire them. Next time you are depressed, lost and down, may I suggest the complete Rocky collection. It has wisdom for all your situations, on top, below, down under… etc… given by coaches, children, wives, friends … everything. There is one Rocky for every possible depressed need.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
its fun growing up with Jispa
A few blogs earlier I had written about the complicated truce in the relationship between Jasmine, Jispa and me. This was as regards Jispa and Jasmine’s fights and other tribulations. On the heels of a truce comes a new low in the relationship between Jispa and me.
Jispa is now growing up. She is not nine years old and aware of herself and the surroundings. She has a mind and she plans to use it. And now she finds me ‘over’. Not as in over meaning the end. But Over as in ‘over doing’ over. It started with the morning wake up. In the morning wake up I used to get inside and smother her with kisses, talk a lot, hug a lot…etc etc… She was complaining the other day that I ‘over’ do it. I should just wake her up by being less aggressive. LESS Aggressive? What the F is that? I thought I was being sweet and this is what she liked. If she wanted I could mom to wake her up. With me she can have the wake up procedure for 10 minutes. Mom will just pull her out of the bed before she knows it, she would be in the bathroom. I thought I was doing her a favor. Bah!
So how does she want to be woken up? She wants to be first told to wake up and then she wants to sleep for some time and then I have to come again. One or two kisses and a hug is ok. No more. Arrrgghhh.
The other day at the swimming competition also she resisted being hugged and kissed by me. She is clearly growing up and I am clearly not letting go. One of us is not maturing. Dam. The thing with kids is that they are designed to break your heart. They will grow up and that’s what you train them for and the first place they use their skills are on you. You teach them to argue logically and they do it on you. You teach them to grow up and be independent and they want independence from you.
So thanks to this growing up pang I have been sulking a bit. So you want to be treated like an adult eh? FINE! I can’t believe I am doing it, but I am seeking revenge. So you want to be treated like an adult eh? So then do this yourself, so that yourself, now do that on time. Etc etc. in fact at one point Jasmine had to rein me in. She knows how hurt I am and how difficult it has been for me. Every time Jasmine and Jispa have a fight, I am the one to restrain them in saying ‘relax, she is a kid’. And now the kid has turned against me and has pretense of growing up.
It’s not easy. It is surely not easy. Very very tough. Growing up with Jispa means constantly adapting, constantly changing your stand, all while remaining ‘consistent’. Man this is so tough. And I don’t like it. Parenting is dam tough. I don’t we signed up for this. This was not written in the brochure. Constant adjusting and adapting is a crazy thing. There are three personalities at play and the fact that these personalities are constantly prone to mood swings, and the fact that the most critical one is growing up every second and new synapses in the brain are being developed as we speak. Her brain would be a flurry of activity. It would do somethings and justify to itself somethings. Keeping it crazy all the time.
So right now Jasmine is learning to let go and I am learning to let go. We are all learning to let go. The question is how much to let go and how much to hold on to. Discipline versus nature’s course. It’s a big challenge. It drains you of all the emotional energy that is there.
One thing is sure, I am happy that I had Jispa when I was about 27 years old. She grew while I was growing. We both grew up together in many ways. It is a good thing to be a relatively younger parent. These are interesting lessons in growing up. Every phase is such a challenge. Let go, don’t let go. You need an almost Zen like Buddhist state of mind to deal with all this. The constant need to change, to think of things as transient, and to focus on the core that is – the relationship based on love and caring and respect. Ufff….
Coming to which... I changed the settings of my blog to being hidden to Google. Jispa is now growing up. Now she will have friends who will do the Google search on friend names. A few of them already tried. Luckily they don’t read the blogs and they searched for the images and Jispa’s image from the blog got thrown up. Another interesting story – one day when I was talking o Jispa about the internet or something, she told me that some friend told her that another friend’s video was on you tube and that she should look it up. I looked it up for her. It was an embarrassing video of the friend as a three year old singing an English song. It was cute while the kid was three years old and embarrassing when the child grew up. So as of now the blog is off Google but accessible through the direct URL. Someday I am sure it will become private and Jispa will ask me to make it accessible by password.
I don’t think it would hurt too much. It’s not like the blog has a massive fan following or something…. But I like it open and I like the stories to reach someone somewhere and who knows what could be impacted, and where. I suddenly remembered this poem I had once attempted to learn for the elocution. Attempted? Ya… I did a bad job and in the trials I just kept forgetting the lines and my teacher was clearly disappointed as she thought I was better than this.
The Bridge Builder
by Will Allen Dromgoole (1860-1934)
An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening cold and gray
To a chasm vast and deep and wide
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The rapids held no fears for him.
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” cried a fellow pilgrim near,
“You’re wasting your time in building here.
Your journey will end with the closing day;
You never again will pass this way.
You have crossed the chasm deep and wide;
Why build you this bridge at even-tide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head.
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There follows after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This stream, which has been as naught to me,
To that fair youth may a pitfall be.
He too must cross in the twilight dim —
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.”
Jispa is now growing up. She is not nine years old and aware of herself and the surroundings. She has a mind and she plans to use it. And now she finds me ‘over’. Not as in over meaning the end. But Over as in ‘over doing’ over. It started with the morning wake up. In the morning wake up I used to get inside and smother her with kisses, talk a lot, hug a lot…etc etc… She was complaining the other day that I ‘over’ do it. I should just wake her up by being less aggressive. LESS Aggressive? What the F is that? I thought I was being sweet and this is what she liked. If she wanted I could mom to wake her up. With me she can have the wake up procedure for 10 minutes. Mom will just pull her out of the bed before she knows it, she would be in the bathroom. I thought I was doing her a favor. Bah!
So how does she want to be woken up? She wants to be first told to wake up and then she wants to sleep for some time and then I have to come again. One or two kisses and a hug is ok. No more. Arrrgghhh.
The other day at the swimming competition also she resisted being hugged and kissed by me. She is clearly growing up and I am clearly not letting go. One of us is not maturing. Dam. The thing with kids is that they are designed to break your heart. They will grow up and that’s what you train them for and the first place they use their skills are on you. You teach them to argue logically and they do it on you. You teach them to grow up and be independent and they want independence from you.
So thanks to this growing up pang I have been sulking a bit. So you want to be treated like an adult eh? FINE! I can’t believe I am doing it, but I am seeking revenge. So you want to be treated like an adult eh? So then do this yourself, so that yourself, now do that on time. Etc etc. in fact at one point Jasmine had to rein me in. She knows how hurt I am and how difficult it has been for me. Every time Jasmine and Jispa have a fight, I am the one to restrain them in saying ‘relax, she is a kid’. And now the kid has turned against me and has pretense of growing up.
It’s not easy. It is surely not easy. Very very tough. Growing up with Jispa means constantly adapting, constantly changing your stand, all while remaining ‘consistent’. Man this is so tough. And I don’t like it. Parenting is dam tough. I don’t we signed up for this. This was not written in the brochure. Constant adjusting and adapting is a crazy thing. There are three personalities at play and the fact that these personalities are constantly prone to mood swings, and the fact that the most critical one is growing up every second and new synapses in the brain are being developed as we speak. Her brain would be a flurry of activity. It would do somethings and justify to itself somethings. Keeping it crazy all the time.
So right now Jasmine is learning to let go and I am learning to let go. We are all learning to let go. The question is how much to let go and how much to hold on to. Discipline versus nature’s course. It’s a big challenge. It drains you of all the emotional energy that is there.
One thing is sure, I am happy that I had Jispa when I was about 27 years old. She grew while I was growing. We both grew up together in many ways. It is a good thing to be a relatively younger parent. These are interesting lessons in growing up. Every phase is such a challenge. Let go, don’t let go. You need an almost Zen like Buddhist state of mind to deal with all this. The constant need to change, to think of things as transient, and to focus on the core that is – the relationship based on love and caring and respect. Ufff….
Coming to which... I changed the settings of my blog to being hidden to Google. Jispa is now growing up. Now she will have friends who will do the Google search on friend names. A few of them already tried. Luckily they don’t read the blogs and they searched for the images and Jispa’s image from the blog got thrown up. Another interesting story – one day when I was talking o Jispa about the internet or something, she told me that some friend told her that another friend’s video was on you tube and that she should look it up. I looked it up for her. It was an embarrassing video of the friend as a three year old singing an English song. It was cute while the kid was three years old and embarrassing when the child grew up. So as of now the blog is off Google but accessible through the direct URL. Someday I am sure it will become private and Jispa will ask me to make it accessible by password.
I don’t think it would hurt too much. It’s not like the blog has a massive fan following or something…. But I like it open and I like the stories to reach someone somewhere and who knows what could be impacted, and where. I suddenly remembered this poem I had once attempted to learn for the elocution. Attempted? Ya… I did a bad job and in the trials I just kept forgetting the lines and my teacher was clearly disappointed as she thought I was better than this.
The Bridge Builder
by Will Allen Dromgoole (1860-1934)
An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening cold and gray
To a chasm vast and deep and wide
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The rapids held no fears for him.
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” cried a fellow pilgrim near,
“You’re wasting your time in building here.
Your journey will end with the closing day;
You never again will pass this way.
You have crossed the chasm deep and wide;
Why build you this bridge at even-tide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head.
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There follows after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This stream, which has been as naught to me,
To that fair youth may a pitfall be.
He too must cross in the twilight dim —
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.”
Friday, December 23, 2011
oh baby sing a song
Brrr… Mumbai has gotten cooler in the mornings. And so has the swimming pool. I feel cold just looking at Jispa and the kids taking a dip in the pool at 5.45 am. My squash court is also closed for renovation, so today I decided to join her in the pool. Hmmm. It is cold. But its ok when you get swimming. after a long time I did around 12 laps and I could have possibly done more, but I came out. Its always interesting to see that every sport has a different muscle group requirement. No matter how much I might be playing squash, but after a round of intense swimming after a long time, and my different muscle groups made their presence felt. Sports – it makes feel alive.
I feel so good that Jispa is doing her share of sporting activities. But we never knew it would get this serious. Today the coach asked us if we were going anywhere for a vacation. Luckily we weren’t. He did not want Jispa to miss her routine as she was doing well. Then I asked about March and he said that state selections are in April. So that now leaves us for June. Wow. I can’t handle such a long break from a break. I will have to figure a way to stay at home and relax and make the best of my holidays. So now I am planning a June vacation. My immediate reaction was – it better be two weeks at the least. Lost for 14 days, preferably without the cell or internet or anything else!
You know… I am not the music types. I don’t really listen to music much but today I somehow was listening to an old Kishore kumar number and suddenly I smiled at the irony of it. I am right now listening to this number and talking about a vacation with my daughter with no cell or internet… and the song is… did you guess this one?
Ek aise gagan ke tale – jahan gum bhi na ho, aasun bhi na ho… bus pyaar pyaar pale….
Wow. Some sweet happy coincidences in life! It set the mood. What a lovely song! And lovely lyrics. Simple heart tugging stuff.
Listen to some more Kishore.
This was and still is a big hit. The number of times it has been resung remix and rescrewed is amazing. In fact I had to look a little more to get the original…. But at least I got to it. I feel so lucky to be able to find and share music and videos through the internet and of course youtube. In 1984 or 85 when we came in from Dubai, there was one cassette player in the house and that was monopolized by my teenage sister with fresh notions of romance in her head. Ok I am being slightly uncharitable but, she did monopolise it. It was a two-in-one which some of our young readers might know the meaning.Basically the player had not one but two cassette decks and a radio, which I have explained many times in the past was a REALLY big thing in the deprived pre liberalization era. It looked somewhat like this one here
So this one time the big musical hit Love Story was being aired on our national channel. Which was also a big thing as we had a movie aired only once a week on Sunday evenings. Socialist India treat for its citizens! So my sis decided to record all the songs using the two in one placed next to the TV. NOPES there were no wires connecting the two. It was an attempt to pirate using good old record button when the song played. The TV would blare and the player would record. I don’t remember very well but I don’t think it worked well as an experiment. But I do remember getting grief from my sister when I came in ringing the bell a few times. Opps. Teenage elder sisters are dangerous.
We should say grace for we have the internet!
While we are on songs – while I was searching for Neele Neele Amber pe, I chanced upon this south Indian piece from which it was inspired (I am not sure which one came first though). Listen on –
And of course the original from Love Story. Teenage elder sisters… sigh.
I feel so good that Jispa is doing her share of sporting activities. But we never knew it would get this serious. Today the coach asked us if we were going anywhere for a vacation. Luckily we weren’t. He did not want Jispa to miss her routine as she was doing well. Then I asked about March and he said that state selections are in April. So that now leaves us for June. Wow. I can’t handle such a long break from a break. I will have to figure a way to stay at home and relax and make the best of my holidays. So now I am planning a June vacation. My immediate reaction was – it better be two weeks at the least. Lost for 14 days, preferably without the cell or internet or anything else!
You know… I am not the music types. I don’t really listen to music much but today I somehow was listening to an old Kishore kumar number and suddenly I smiled at the irony of it. I am right now listening to this number and talking about a vacation with my daughter with no cell or internet… and the song is… did you guess this one?
Ek aise gagan ke tale – jahan gum bhi na ho, aasun bhi na ho… bus pyaar pyaar pale….
Wow. Some sweet happy coincidences in life! It set the mood. What a lovely song! And lovely lyrics. Simple heart tugging stuff.
Listen to some more Kishore.
This was and still is a big hit. The number of times it has been resung remix and rescrewed is amazing. In fact I had to look a little more to get the original…. But at least I got to it. I feel so lucky to be able to find and share music and videos through the internet and of course youtube. In 1984 or 85 when we came in from Dubai, there was one cassette player in the house and that was monopolized by my teenage sister with fresh notions of romance in her head. Ok I am being slightly uncharitable but, she did monopolise it. It was a two-in-one which some of our young readers might know the meaning.Basically the player had not one but two cassette decks and a radio, which I have explained many times in the past was a REALLY big thing in the deprived pre liberalization era. It looked somewhat like this one here
So this one time the big musical hit Love Story was being aired on our national channel. Which was also a big thing as we had a movie aired only once a week on Sunday evenings. Socialist India treat for its citizens! So my sis decided to record all the songs using the two in one placed next to the TV. NOPES there were no wires connecting the two. It was an attempt to pirate using good old record button when the song played. The TV would blare and the player would record. I don’t remember very well but I don’t think it worked well as an experiment. But I do remember getting grief from my sister when I came in ringing the bell a few times. Opps. Teenage elder sisters are dangerous.
We should say grace for we have the internet!
While we are on songs – while I was searching for Neele Neele Amber pe, I chanced upon this south Indian piece from which it was inspired (I am not sure which one came first though). Listen on –
And of course the original from Love Story. Teenage elder sisters… sigh.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
moeny money money
What’s with egos. Jispa went to a swim meet today and the place was plastered with the face of this one character.
There were hoardings all over the place. The beach umbrella had his mug shots and of course the medals! That was too much. Medals? How much can you be vain? I guess it seems to be apolitical thing. Dear voter don’t forget the face. I am doing a lot of good stuff for you. Remember me! But I guess if he got some great pleasure out of getting his face plastered and I got a swimming contest in return, what do I care. It’s not like I have to vote for him. Sure. Smash it all over dude. This swim meet they were even giving out cash rewards and Jispa managed a butterfly bronze to get 500 bucks! She said she wanted to keep it as she thought she earned it.
Many years ago, after my tenth standard board results, I got what I remember as 200 odd rupees for getting a distinction. I got a cheque of the amount from the classes I went for. So I came home with the happy feeling that I had earned the money. Now I could do stuff with it. I even had a girlfriend I could spend it on! So I came home and asked for it. Mom refused. No way. You get your pocket money and that’s that. This does not belong to you. So in a fit of defiance, I too said then I don’t care about it. The cheque will remain with me. If you have power, I have power. I think then Dad entered the conversation. He had a chat with me. I don’t remember the complete chat but I remember these lines – me – “it’s my money, it rightfully belongs to me”. Dad – “well, then I can say, since I paid for the classes, then it rightfully belongs to me”. I don’t think I won that argument. And I think Dad managed to have a amiable solution to eth problem. I think I did get eh money in the end.
So Jispa said – I earned it, it’s my money. Haha! Sitting duck – ya if you have earned it then, it’s I who have actually earned it. What about the petrol and the other stuff to get you to swim. Who pays for that! Of course my tone was much more humorous than that of my dad’s. Awww. Jispa went. She knew it was in jest. Well she can have the money and quite frankly I don’t know if we will or won’t give it. Jasmine said – ‘aren’t you giving a treat to all your friends with your money?’ whoops!
Earning money… Today morning Jispa was telling me – you owe me 35 rupees for the guitar practice. Jasmine was like – you did not practice properly. Jispa replied ‘I did, and I am not charging for one session, so its ok’ Jasmine went “CHARGING? You are not charging, we are giving you like that for practicing.’ ‘OK ok. I am asking for my income’… “ok stop. I will give you your 35 bucks” I butted int o settle the argument.
Money is a funny object. Jispa has the money but has no place to really spend it. But it still gives her pleasure. She likes counting it, and like a true gujju, she loves getting interest on it. That is the best part. The other day in a fit of generosity on her cousin brother’s birthday she wanted to give him a cash gift. She started with around 600 bucks in the morning, but as we approached evening and the time came to actually give the money, the number dwindled to 200 bucks. “Why” I asked Jispa. “I did not like to give away so much money” she said. Always a tough call.
Probably we are ingrained to hoard. We like money, not so much as what it is doing for us but for what it COULD do for us. I think it’s a subtle but crucial difference in the way we see money. Hmmm.
Monday, December 19, 2011
zen in the art of....
The relationships between Jispa, Jasmine and me reached new depths. In the past weeks we found it very difficult to get along. We ended up fighting at almost every instance. Jispa could do nothing right. She lost two three water bottles, refused to listen to anything, dropped stuff on the floor, gave round about answers to straight forward questions, second guessed while giving answers….. and so on. It was really really tough.
But like most issues these too got resolved. Jispa got one week of constant attention (unpleasant attention) and we too grew up. As Adam Smith prophesized, when there is free speech, both parties feel equally bad, a willingness to listen to the other point of view and when one set is in absolute total authority, typically equilibrium is achieved. Oh ok – that was nowhere near Adam Smith, but we still achieved equilibrium. Only time will tell if the ‘dambrium’ is stable and lasting or a temporary truce.
Till then its business as usual. These days our weekends are spent with jispa at her swim meets. She has been competing pretty well and we have been coping pretty ok. These competitions take a lot out of you. You carry the right food and drink and snacks and the works. The only way I began to look forward to these is not her swimming but, in a moment of epiphany one Sunday morning – I decided to make this a picnic. So we carry sandwiches, cold coffee, lemon juice and the works. We have a chiller box, we recently bought and so we stuff that with the goodies and ice and off we go. Jispa’s swimming has dramatically improved. She seems to be amongst the top ten swimmers in her age group in Mumbai. Her butterfly has dramatically improved. Last year she was ten seconds off the number one swimmer and yesterday she trailed by 2 seconds to finish fourth. And her technique stills requires improvement.
Jispa many times is impervious to talks on swimming technique. She knows that we know jack shit about swimming so she doesn’t really pay too much heed to what we say to her. But then yesterday I hit upon another idea. I took videos of her contest and then showed the same to her. I explained frame by frame the difference in the techniques. Of course to the best of my ability. Then I also took a video of the best swimmer of the meet and explained some subtle nuances of his technique. That seemed to get her thinking. I don’t think she would be able to follow my analysis, but I surely drilled into her the fun of being technically correct. That itself should add a dimension to her swimming. She must be cognizant of the need to be technically correct if she wants to break the top three.
Luckily this meet was in the afternoon and the mornings were spent making breakfast. The days we don’t see a movie on Sunday mornings, the most of the morning is devoted to reading newspapers and making breakfast. The only way I can deal with chores is to have a Zen like state of mind while doing them. I take pride in doing the chores the right way. If I have to iron my shirt, I take extra care to get the creases just right. If I wipe the floors, I take it tile by tile, straight lines, no dust untouched. Ditto with dishes and the best is in the kitchen. Especially with the sandwiches. On saturday I had the good fortune of making a sandwich from the Panini bread that Jasmine got for me. In fact I enjoyed making it so much that I took step by step photos of the process. I cut the all the veggies myself. I have been practicing cutting them since a long time and I take great pride in cutting them as thin as possible.
So here are the pics of the steps involved
Pic 1 – the butter chutney and the veggies. I filled in the cucumbers after the photo
Pic 2 – Jalapenos, olives only on my side (Jasmine doesn’t like them too much) and the paneer. I learnt to put Paneer in Sandwiches from Turkey. They make some the best sandwiches I have ever eaten.
Pic 3 – Cheese, oregano, salt and pepper. The oregano is the one you get with Domino’s pizza. Jasmine loves the mix they have. It is oregano with salt and some other spices including red pepper. It’s quite awesome. Jasmine always takes extra and stores them. You should put the stuff on buttered toast and have. Yum.
Pic 4 – On the griller. This one is thanks to my sister. We never would have bought one. There was never enough space. But given one, we love to use it.
Pic 5 – happily squashed. They do get thinner when grilled.
Pic 6 – served – the only plate as big is the cutting board. Check the attempt to pass of crass mass produced ketchups as special sauces. It’s the fun of serving. Jasmine and me both prefer to clean the entire table of the mess and sit to eat on a nice clean table, with all the stuff either in the fridge, or on shelves or inside the dustbin.
Almost everything tastes nice or every chore manageable if you take pride in them. Take pride in them. But of course, as Jasmine would add, do it every day you wouldn’t have as much pride. But then… if you do it every day, it’s your job and not a chore. Oh ya… that’s probably explains why most jobs are chores. But then……. Oh chuck it. Never mind.
But I did get super excited over a sandwich didn’t I?
But like most issues these too got resolved. Jispa got one week of constant attention (unpleasant attention) and we too grew up. As Adam Smith prophesized, when there is free speech, both parties feel equally bad, a willingness to listen to the other point of view and when one set is in absolute total authority, typically equilibrium is achieved. Oh ok – that was nowhere near Adam Smith, but we still achieved equilibrium. Only time will tell if the ‘dambrium’ is stable and lasting or a temporary truce.
Till then its business as usual. These days our weekends are spent with jispa at her swim meets. She has been competing pretty well and we have been coping pretty ok. These competitions take a lot out of you. You carry the right food and drink and snacks and the works. The only way I began to look forward to these is not her swimming but, in a moment of epiphany one Sunday morning – I decided to make this a picnic. So we carry sandwiches, cold coffee, lemon juice and the works. We have a chiller box, we recently bought and so we stuff that with the goodies and ice and off we go. Jispa’s swimming has dramatically improved. She seems to be amongst the top ten swimmers in her age group in Mumbai. Her butterfly has dramatically improved. Last year she was ten seconds off the number one swimmer and yesterday she trailed by 2 seconds to finish fourth. And her technique stills requires improvement.
Jispa many times is impervious to talks on swimming technique. She knows that we know jack shit about swimming so she doesn’t really pay too much heed to what we say to her. But then yesterday I hit upon another idea. I took videos of her contest and then showed the same to her. I explained frame by frame the difference in the techniques. Of course to the best of my ability. Then I also took a video of the best swimmer of the meet and explained some subtle nuances of his technique. That seemed to get her thinking. I don’t think she would be able to follow my analysis, but I surely drilled into her the fun of being technically correct. That itself should add a dimension to her swimming. She must be cognizant of the need to be technically correct if she wants to break the top three.
Luckily this meet was in the afternoon and the mornings were spent making breakfast. The days we don’t see a movie on Sunday mornings, the most of the morning is devoted to reading newspapers and making breakfast. The only way I can deal with chores is to have a Zen like state of mind while doing them. I take pride in doing the chores the right way. If I have to iron my shirt, I take extra care to get the creases just right. If I wipe the floors, I take it tile by tile, straight lines, no dust untouched. Ditto with dishes and the best is in the kitchen. Especially with the sandwiches. On saturday I had the good fortune of making a sandwich from the Panini bread that Jasmine got for me. In fact I enjoyed making it so much that I took step by step photos of the process. I cut the all the veggies myself. I have been practicing cutting them since a long time and I take great pride in cutting them as thin as possible.
So here are the pics of the steps involved
Pic 1 – the butter chutney and the veggies. I filled in the cucumbers after the photo
Pic 2 – Jalapenos, olives only on my side (Jasmine doesn’t like them too much) and the paneer. I learnt to put Paneer in Sandwiches from Turkey. They make some the best sandwiches I have ever eaten.
Pic 3 – Cheese, oregano, salt and pepper. The oregano is the one you get with Domino’s pizza. Jasmine loves the mix they have. It is oregano with salt and some other spices including red pepper. It’s quite awesome. Jasmine always takes extra and stores them. You should put the stuff on buttered toast and have. Yum.
Pic 4 – On the griller. This one is thanks to my sister. We never would have bought one. There was never enough space. But given one, we love to use it.
Pic 5 – happily squashed. They do get thinner when grilled.
Pic 6 – served – the only plate as big is the cutting board. Check the attempt to pass of crass mass produced ketchups as special sauces. It’s the fun of serving. Jasmine and me both prefer to clean the entire table of the mess and sit to eat on a nice clean table, with all the stuff either in the fridge, or on shelves or inside the dustbin.
Almost everything tastes nice or every chore manageable if you take pride in them. Take pride in them. But of course, as Jasmine would add, do it every day you wouldn’t have as much pride. But then… if you do it every day, it’s your job and not a chore. Oh ya… that’s probably explains why most jobs are chores. But then……. Oh chuck it. Never mind.
But I did get super excited over a sandwich didn’t I?
Thursday, December 08, 2011
a sporty mind
Two months of being away from the swimming pool can really deteriorate your swimming ability. I restarted swimming – twice a week, when I have to leave Jispa for taekwondo class. From the 12-16 laps that I could do, I have come down to 3-4. Of course my technique needs improving and I also realized, my mind plays a very large role in my sporting endeavors.
While playing squash, I seemed to have hit a wall, as far as improvements go. Something is not happening right. Instead of length balls, I keep hitting the side walls. Something is wrong. I was talking to the coach and I realized that I am not preparing myself mentally before a game. I need to think through the game, run through the shots in my head, keep playing the shots mentally and in the right way. That helps me a lot. Of course that’s not the only thing. My technique itself is also suspect. So the coach showed me some practice moves that I need to do to ensure my racquet is at the right angle. It needs to be open rather than closed while playing. Hit up hit up. I hope to keep practicing this when I am early in the morning. I am also quite pleased with the way the coach is taking interest in my progress. He is a quite sort of guy who does not really coach unless you keep at it. He rather be a quiet spectator. I guess he has learnt it right. All sorts of people come to the club. A lot of them are know it alls. He is always open and there if you want to speak to him, but he keeps to himself and only gives out coaching instructions when prodded. I accidently figured it out. Now I play squash not only purely for fitness, but I also want to improve the game. Keep thinking, keep playing, and keep at it. It gives me great pleasure to play it with a purpose. I don’t ever count the score; that I leave to the other guy. Good for him to keep him mentally occupied. I am going to play every ball the same irrespective of the score, then why bother counting the score. Thanks to this attitude I chase every ball, and my first rule is keep the ball in play, so I have had some amazing rallies with another player at the club, who is far better than me, but just my ability to reach and keep the ball in play constantly, can result in some really long and amazing rallies, which are delight to play and a delight to watch. When you are barely reaching the ball, just keeping it in play requires a tremendous amount of effort and sheer will power. Keep reaching and keep avoiding an unforced error. That’s the key. But that does mean anything besides the fact that I get a good stretch. I need to keep playing right, get technique right.
Coming back to swimming, I am also working there on technique. I have to think through before I get into the pool. What am I going to do, how will my hands move, how will they enter the water, how will they pull it back. I think of my swimming coach and assume he is there giving instructions. The last time I just got into the water without thinking about anything and I made a complete hash out of it. I have to keep thinking. today, much thought went into the swim and I was far better at it. think think think. How the hell does it work?
It’s like the mind thinks of the various things it wants to do and the muscle just seems to follow. You don’t think and you are gone, because the muscle then does what it just wants to and completely messes things up. The hands go anywhere and the legs dance about. The mind alone can control it. Thinking about technique and being aware of your body while playing a sport is like moving into a trance like meditative state. It is lesser in the case of cricket and squash. You are trying to react to the situation and in cricket, you are constantly aware of the score. But I just love swimming as you are up against yourself. There is no score, no one to beat, nothing to attack. There is you and then there is your technique. While swimming I can think of nothing else. Where is my arm, where is my head, what are my legs doing? If meditation is keeping all thoughts away, then this is as close as it gets. I am only self aware. Only thinking about myself, my body. It is impossible to think of anything else. I also don’t want to go faster. I only want to go longer. To go longer I have to go slower and in correct rhythm. I try and feel the rhythm. If the rhythm is right the effort is minimal. I must get to 20 laps, without even panting. That is my goal for now.
This is my get away plan these days. I have decided to focus a lot of my energies on my work and on my personal life. I have changed a lot of my thinking. Now one year has passed in this organization. I have given the organization a direction that is potentially game changing. The organization would need to work on it. I need to work on it. More than anything, I realize that my team needs to now move a few notches higher. It is fine to give a strategy but it is even more amazing to implement it. I have one year of implementation ahead of me. Dogged head down, implementation. I know the firm does not right now have the money to really reward me. That is in many ways a good thing. I will do whatever I am doing because I want to do it, because I want to do it for the team and take them forward. I want to do it. I realize that it is my cross to carry. In the course of which, people will leave me, people will hate me, people will not be grateful, or even be annoyed by it. But I still need to do it. Do it for them, as I believe it is right. Do it for myself, as I believe it’s right. It is a tough burden to carry.
When you carry such burdens you realize, that no matter how good the support you have at home or at office, you are essentially on your own. That puts different pressure on you. Over the years I have learnt to not take too much pressure home with you. My bosses have also been kind enough to let me be thus. But I strongly suspect that the swimming and the squash and of course my beloved cricket has helped. If nothing else, I am completely ignorant of anything around me when I am pursuing these activities. I think it teaches a certain degree of equanimity, a certain calm and a certain meditative, reflective stance.
Whatever… I am living my childhood dream to be amongst sports. I think I am changing as a person. I think I might be getting a little better. I hope I am. Hopefully a more focused calm and controlled person. Just a little bit. I keep slipping back. But I must be better controlled. Sport is a great teacher and a greater metaphor. Let me keep at it. So help me all.
While playing squash, I seemed to have hit a wall, as far as improvements go. Something is not happening right. Instead of length balls, I keep hitting the side walls. Something is wrong. I was talking to the coach and I realized that I am not preparing myself mentally before a game. I need to think through the game, run through the shots in my head, keep playing the shots mentally and in the right way. That helps me a lot. Of course that’s not the only thing. My technique itself is also suspect. So the coach showed me some practice moves that I need to do to ensure my racquet is at the right angle. It needs to be open rather than closed while playing. Hit up hit up. I hope to keep practicing this when I am early in the morning. I am also quite pleased with the way the coach is taking interest in my progress. He is a quite sort of guy who does not really coach unless you keep at it. He rather be a quiet spectator. I guess he has learnt it right. All sorts of people come to the club. A lot of them are know it alls. He is always open and there if you want to speak to him, but he keeps to himself and only gives out coaching instructions when prodded. I accidently figured it out. Now I play squash not only purely for fitness, but I also want to improve the game. Keep thinking, keep playing, and keep at it. It gives me great pleasure to play it with a purpose. I don’t ever count the score; that I leave to the other guy. Good for him to keep him mentally occupied. I am going to play every ball the same irrespective of the score, then why bother counting the score. Thanks to this attitude I chase every ball, and my first rule is keep the ball in play, so I have had some amazing rallies with another player at the club, who is far better than me, but just my ability to reach and keep the ball in play constantly, can result in some really long and amazing rallies, which are delight to play and a delight to watch. When you are barely reaching the ball, just keeping it in play requires a tremendous amount of effort and sheer will power. Keep reaching and keep avoiding an unforced error. That’s the key. But that does mean anything besides the fact that I get a good stretch. I need to keep playing right, get technique right.
Coming back to swimming, I am also working there on technique. I have to think through before I get into the pool. What am I going to do, how will my hands move, how will they enter the water, how will they pull it back. I think of my swimming coach and assume he is there giving instructions. The last time I just got into the water without thinking about anything and I made a complete hash out of it. I have to keep thinking. today, much thought went into the swim and I was far better at it. think think think. How the hell does it work?
It’s like the mind thinks of the various things it wants to do and the muscle just seems to follow. You don’t think and you are gone, because the muscle then does what it just wants to and completely messes things up. The hands go anywhere and the legs dance about. The mind alone can control it. Thinking about technique and being aware of your body while playing a sport is like moving into a trance like meditative state. It is lesser in the case of cricket and squash. You are trying to react to the situation and in cricket, you are constantly aware of the score. But I just love swimming as you are up against yourself. There is no score, no one to beat, nothing to attack. There is you and then there is your technique. While swimming I can think of nothing else. Where is my arm, where is my head, what are my legs doing? If meditation is keeping all thoughts away, then this is as close as it gets. I am only self aware. Only thinking about myself, my body. It is impossible to think of anything else. I also don’t want to go faster. I only want to go longer. To go longer I have to go slower and in correct rhythm. I try and feel the rhythm. If the rhythm is right the effort is minimal. I must get to 20 laps, without even panting. That is my goal for now.
This is my get away plan these days. I have decided to focus a lot of my energies on my work and on my personal life. I have changed a lot of my thinking. Now one year has passed in this organization. I have given the organization a direction that is potentially game changing. The organization would need to work on it. I need to work on it. More than anything, I realize that my team needs to now move a few notches higher. It is fine to give a strategy but it is even more amazing to implement it. I have one year of implementation ahead of me. Dogged head down, implementation. I know the firm does not right now have the money to really reward me. That is in many ways a good thing. I will do whatever I am doing because I want to do it, because I want to do it for the team and take them forward. I want to do it. I realize that it is my cross to carry. In the course of which, people will leave me, people will hate me, people will not be grateful, or even be annoyed by it. But I still need to do it. Do it for them, as I believe it is right. Do it for myself, as I believe it’s right. It is a tough burden to carry.
When you carry such burdens you realize, that no matter how good the support you have at home or at office, you are essentially on your own. That puts different pressure on you. Over the years I have learnt to not take too much pressure home with you. My bosses have also been kind enough to let me be thus. But I strongly suspect that the swimming and the squash and of course my beloved cricket has helped. If nothing else, I am completely ignorant of anything around me when I am pursuing these activities. I think it teaches a certain degree of equanimity, a certain calm and a certain meditative, reflective stance.
Whatever… I am living my childhood dream to be amongst sports. I think I am changing as a person. I think I might be getting a little better. I hope I am. Hopefully a more focused calm and controlled person. Just a little bit. I keep slipping back. But I must be better controlled. Sport is a great teacher and a greater metaphor. Let me keep at it. So help me all.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
the law of unintended consequences
warning - RAMBLING ALERT. PROCEED AT OWN RISK
There is nothing sadder in this world than a wasted crisis. There is so much to learn and so much to understand from it. To repeat an oft repeated cliché – history repeats itself and those who don’t learn from it are condemned to repeat it. the last few years we have seen the best of crisis hit us. There has been so much to learn from it. A lot of free time is also spent learning and understanding.
The last time (2008) the crisis hit I was hooked on to the RSS feeds. They saved me and my brains from entropy. I read every day and I blogged every single day. Learning and creative wise they have been the best of times. A crisis is much too important an event to be wasted. These times are no different. We seemed to have gone out of the crisis we thought we were getting into and jumped right into another one. I always wondered how the dam euro worked with different countries. I thought – hey that’s a swell idea. I am sure the euro would be managed by one central authority and I thought there would be an amazing fiscal consolidation with all the Euro zone members coming together as one central banking authority. Only the present crisis helped me explain what now seems like a dam stupid idea. You have a monetary consolidation but not a fiscal consolidation. Are you like… nuts? How the hell can you do that? Only an idiot would agree to it. I clearly remember the launch of the Euro on TV. I think it was covered on a program called the world this week. There was plenty of hype and euphoria. But sure, in hindsight vision is always 20-20. These very same critics remained blissfully silent all through these years.
But coming back – this time around I have discovered podcasts. Economic podcasts that explain the situation, explain the issues at hand, possible solutions, historical background, et all. Along with listening to them I have been reading the Economist. A lot of it then begins to make sense. I just can take my mind off the Keynes versus Hayek podcast. Man. All our lives we understood the Keynesian theory and the idea that we must spend our way out of trouble, while Hayek kept reminding us of the issues that we would face with loose money. They also pointed to the rap videos that sought to explain the two theories in direct contrast with each other makes for interesting learning.
V1 -
V2
I must admit that I first saw the video while the first crisis was in full effect and at the time I don’t think couldn’t fully grasp the strength of the Hayek idea. Loose monetary policy will result in misplaced investments and a bad hangover with inflation coming knocking at your door, sooner or later. I think that is precisely the reason why Keynes is an easy policy to digest for the politician. It shows action – one must do something about the crisis now! To rephrase Keynes – in the long run… every politician is dead. Hayek on the other hand possibly tells us to sit tight and bear the pain. Pain is essential but only the tough will survive. Otherwise you will get misallocated funds, inflation and an attempt to prop up the weak, that should have died in any case. Today I see it very clear. Hayek seems right. India followed a loose monetary policy as a knee jerk reaction to the global crisis. We wanted to be seen as a government ready to fight the recession and protect growth at all costs. I too believed in it. What is life without growth after all? So in effect we attacked degrowth when there was none at all. What only happened was that we grew at a lesser pace than before. Which is a natural thing. It is a natural response to the economic situation. But if our FM wouldn’t have done anything, he would have been pillared for twiddling his thumbs. Also the argument could also be that inflation is a lesser pain than unemployment. So possibly Keynesian policy is possibly the right way to go.
Then you add the NREGA effect to this. The Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) is an Indian job guarantee scheme, enacted by legislation on August 25, 2005. The scheme provides a legal guarantee for one hundred days of employment in every financial year to adult members of any rural household willing to do public work-related unskilled manual work at the statutory minimum wage of 120 (US$2.43) per day in 2009 prices.
When the Congress government kept announcing schemes to promote the socialist agenda, I was the lone dissenter. WTF. We can’t ensure we get any public distribution right, and none of the schemes really work , so why should we support these budgets and call them great budgets. The markets loved them and all was forgotten. Some even attributed some the victory to the NREGA program – read this http://imaginingindia.com/2009/05/28/after-the-election/ . Interesting.
So now you have a lot of money being pumped into the economy. More money and my daughter will tell you – inflation follows. And it does. So we have inflation with prices rising. So now the government tries to control inflation by raising interest rates and attempts to suck out liquidity. It is squeezing our stomach while tightening our belts. Can I hear Hayek laughing?
After all this I was wondering why we never learnt Hayek in economics while we heard of Keynes. A chance encounter with my economic teacher and I got the answer. Keynes is taught at graduate level while Hayek is taught at post grad level. Oh Stupid stupid idiots who set the curriculum. Most of us are going to go through life with a graduate degree. So now we know what to do without understanding eth consequences of what we do. So year after year you will have students who understand that governments must interfere must have not been taught what happens when you do interfere. Oh this is such a wonderful example of our education system. Most of us are graduates with some exposure in economics before we move on to our other streams, possibly management and go through life not knowing about the other side. Sheesh.
Forget it. I am getting too depressed. But here, while we are swimming in different theories, here is one more. I think the reason you will see inflation is because the RBI wants us to see inflation. Economics is nothing but a game that is being played in our minds. Recession happens when we feel not so confident about the future, growth is when we feel better about it, inflation happens when we feel that we have more money and want to spend more to get a good. Economics works in the collective and indivual minds of the people, and our country is not all educated. I am sure not a large percentage of the population has anything to do with economic theory. They behave in tune with what they see. They don’t understand inflation and sentiment. They care if Greece is going nutty printing money. They react to what they see. And the Government or the RBI is telling them in their face that the RUPEE IS DEVALUING. The RBI is taking extra care to ensure it happens. How is that?
Well its simple. They are now telling you that the rupee is now worth a lot less. In fact through a very powerful visual it is telling the population that the rupee is now almost half of what it used to be, sometime back. Don’t believe me? See this… the old rupee and new one rupee coin.
the date on the big one is at the back -2010 and the new one is dated 2011.
Now any illiterate person looking at the coins will also tell you that the rupee is not the same anymore. It has shrunk. And hence now you require twice as much material to be worth the old rupee. In effect the new rupee is half the old one. INFLATION!
I know it’s a corny idea, but I firmly believe that symbolism matters. We decide a lot on the basis of what we see and interact with. Surely the shrinking of the rupee is not just because we shrunk the size, but this is a clear admission of the fact that it has shrunk so those who don’t believe in it, kindly start now.
the Hayek versus Keynes podcast can be accessed here -http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/2011/10/28/141802704/the-friday-podcast-keynes-vs-hayek Listen to it. its fun.
There is nothing sadder in this world than a wasted crisis. There is so much to learn and so much to understand from it. To repeat an oft repeated cliché – history repeats itself and those who don’t learn from it are condemned to repeat it. the last few years we have seen the best of crisis hit us. There has been so much to learn from it. A lot of free time is also spent learning and understanding.
The last time (2008) the crisis hit I was hooked on to the RSS feeds. They saved me and my brains from entropy. I read every day and I blogged every single day. Learning and creative wise they have been the best of times. A crisis is much too important an event to be wasted. These times are no different. We seemed to have gone out of the crisis we thought we were getting into and jumped right into another one. I always wondered how the dam euro worked with different countries. I thought – hey that’s a swell idea. I am sure the euro would be managed by one central authority and I thought there would be an amazing fiscal consolidation with all the Euro zone members coming together as one central banking authority. Only the present crisis helped me explain what now seems like a dam stupid idea. You have a monetary consolidation but not a fiscal consolidation. Are you like… nuts? How the hell can you do that? Only an idiot would agree to it. I clearly remember the launch of the Euro on TV. I think it was covered on a program called the world this week. There was plenty of hype and euphoria. But sure, in hindsight vision is always 20-20. These very same critics remained blissfully silent all through these years.
But coming back – this time around I have discovered podcasts. Economic podcasts that explain the situation, explain the issues at hand, possible solutions, historical background, et all. Along with listening to them I have been reading the Economist. A lot of it then begins to make sense. I just can take my mind off the Keynes versus Hayek podcast. Man. All our lives we understood the Keynesian theory and the idea that we must spend our way out of trouble, while Hayek kept reminding us of the issues that we would face with loose money. They also pointed to the rap videos that sought to explain the two theories in direct contrast with each other makes for interesting learning.
V1 -
V2
I must admit that I first saw the video while the first crisis was in full effect and at the time I don’t think couldn’t fully grasp the strength of the Hayek idea. Loose monetary policy will result in misplaced investments and a bad hangover with inflation coming knocking at your door, sooner or later. I think that is precisely the reason why Keynes is an easy policy to digest for the politician. It shows action – one must do something about the crisis now! To rephrase Keynes – in the long run… every politician is dead. Hayek on the other hand possibly tells us to sit tight and bear the pain. Pain is essential but only the tough will survive. Otherwise you will get misallocated funds, inflation and an attempt to prop up the weak, that should have died in any case. Today I see it very clear. Hayek seems right. India followed a loose monetary policy as a knee jerk reaction to the global crisis. We wanted to be seen as a government ready to fight the recession and protect growth at all costs. I too believed in it. What is life without growth after all? So in effect we attacked degrowth when there was none at all. What only happened was that we grew at a lesser pace than before. Which is a natural thing. It is a natural response to the economic situation. But if our FM wouldn’t have done anything, he would have been pillared for twiddling his thumbs. Also the argument could also be that inflation is a lesser pain than unemployment. So possibly Keynesian policy is possibly the right way to go.
Then you add the NREGA effect to this. The Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) is an Indian job guarantee scheme, enacted by legislation on August 25, 2005. The scheme provides a legal guarantee for one hundred days of employment in every financial year to adult members of any rural household willing to do public work-related unskilled manual work at the statutory minimum wage of 120 (US$2.43) per day in 2009 prices.
When the Congress government kept announcing schemes to promote the socialist agenda, I was the lone dissenter. WTF. We can’t ensure we get any public distribution right, and none of the schemes really work , so why should we support these budgets and call them great budgets. The markets loved them and all was forgotten. Some even attributed some the victory to the NREGA program – read this http://imaginingindia.com/2009/05/28/after-the-election/ . Interesting.
So now you have a lot of money being pumped into the economy. More money and my daughter will tell you – inflation follows. And it does. So we have inflation with prices rising. So now the government tries to control inflation by raising interest rates and attempts to suck out liquidity. It is squeezing our stomach while tightening our belts. Can I hear Hayek laughing?
After all this I was wondering why we never learnt Hayek in economics while we heard of Keynes. A chance encounter with my economic teacher and I got the answer. Keynes is taught at graduate level while Hayek is taught at post grad level. Oh Stupid stupid idiots who set the curriculum. Most of us are going to go through life with a graduate degree. So now we know what to do without understanding eth consequences of what we do. So year after year you will have students who understand that governments must interfere must have not been taught what happens when you do interfere. Oh this is such a wonderful example of our education system. Most of us are graduates with some exposure in economics before we move on to our other streams, possibly management and go through life not knowing about the other side. Sheesh.
Forget it. I am getting too depressed. But here, while we are swimming in different theories, here is one more. I think the reason you will see inflation is because the RBI wants us to see inflation. Economics is nothing but a game that is being played in our minds. Recession happens when we feel not so confident about the future, growth is when we feel better about it, inflation happens when we feel that we have more money and want to spend more to get a good. Economics works in the collective and indivual minds of the people, and our country is not all educated. I am sure not a large percentage of the population has anything to do with economic theory. They behave in tune with what they see. They don’t understand inflation and sentiment. They care if Greece is going nutty printing money. They react to what they see. And the Government or the RBI is telling them in their face that the RUPEE IS DEVALUING. The RBI is taking extra care to ensure it happens. How is that?
Well its simple. They are now telling you that the rupee is now worth a lot less. In fact through a very powerful visual it is telling the population that the rupee is now almost half of what it used to be, sometime back. Don’t believe me? See this… the old rupee and new one rupee coin.
the date on the big one is at the back -2010 and the new one is dated 2011.
Now any illiterate person looking at the coins will also tell you that the rupee is not the same anymore. It has shrunk. And hence now you require twice as much material to be worth the old rupee. In effect the new rupee is half the old one. INFLATION!
I know it’s a corny idea, but I firmly believe that symbolism matters. We decide a lot on the basis of what we see and interact with. Surely the shrinking of the rupee is not just because we shrunk the size, but this is a clear admission of the fact that it has shrunk so those who don’t believe in it, kindly start now.
the Hayek versus Keynes podcast can be accessed here -http://www.npr.org/blogs/money/2011/10/28/141802704/the-friday-podcast-keynes-vs-hayek Listen to it. its fun.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
keep running
Oh god. Now at school they want Jispa to come to school early at 7 am for taekwondo practice twice a day. Oh man o man. Now this means leaving home at 6.30am on Tuesdays and Thursdays for school, in addition to the leaving home at 5.30am for swimming practice on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Jasmine and I did not know how to react to this news. Is this a good thing or a bad thing, from two perspectives?
First perspective – Jispa. The poor thing has a packed schedule. There is regular swimming and taekwondo, and one orphaned guitar class a week. Now in such a packed schedule, she has to manage her homework, extra time pass reading, playing with friends, studies during reviews and what not. In addition to this we are wondering on the physical burden on the child. We try and ensure she gets her adequate sleep, even if it requires us to scold her and switch off the lights when she wants to read. The second thing is that how do we give her adequate nutrition? Jasmine had spoken to a nutrition expert through a common friend. Her advice was that till the child reached adolescence, there is more harm than good if one tries to regulate nutrition through planning. Eat well, eat all you want, ensure balance. This is both great and worrying honest advice. This puts the pressure of nutrition squarely on parents. So now we keep thinking of what is enough or not. Add to this the fact that Jispa is developing an awesome abdomen. She had some serious ab muscles. These won’t let her tummy expand. So she will feel full in smaller meals that she would need from time to time. Then comes school, which is not exactly designed for small meals. They have fixed breaks with long intervals in between. How does Jasmine give her adequate food to last her through the long periods when her tummy is small to store much? At least that is the dilemma we believe exits. I think pretty soon I might have to chat with the school and get some special permission to eat every two hours. A small bite, a mini meal or so. And then the problem of cooking something a nine year old would want to eat. Jasmine goes mad trying to cook stuff. Jasmine is not exactly a blessed cook. She is quite adequate to the job but she is a bit bored cook. Asking her to challenge herself to cook something interesting everyday is a bit of a non starter. Compounding the issue is Jispa deciding at random not to eat her school snack completely. Shit. That just gets everything in a mess. So this time when the taekwondo call came in Jasmine was wondering, how are we going to feed her before the class and what do we give her to eat after the class. Mar gaye re… AND THE BIGGEST ISSUE – Jispa takes forever to eat. She is easily the most bored, lost and sleepy eater in the world. She can eat one bite and then take forever to put the next one in. she can put one bite in the mouth and then hold it in her mouth without chewing it for minutes on end. It drives us wild. Especially when you have to beat the clock in the morning. JISPA CHEW is the most popular word in our house. We have to keep reminding her, scolding her, shouting, everything. She sits with one knee raised to her chin and then rests her hand on it and then it’s waiting for Godot. I went hard after the knee bit. No knee on top. Not that I have a problem with it, but it puts her in a position where she just sits and dreams away. she can take 45 minutes for breakfast. We can’t wake her any early; we can go to school any later. This is a killer. Its kills us as parents. We feel like mean bloody driven parents.
I being the father took the complete cop out. This was more than what my brains could effectively handle. So I suggested the simple route – Complan - a milk drink in the morning which claims to have all the bloody nutrients you could think of. It’s like a vitamin cocktail. Jasmine and I never wanted to give Jispa these cocktails. We were of the belief that as long as you eat right you don’t need any artificial supplements. But given the pressures of time and the added responsibility of a square meal, we are left with no option but to give her a glass of complan in the morning. She likes the taste and drinks it one shot. We don’t need to scold her and she is off, ready to pack a mean punch.
Here she is, having a glass of Complan in the morning.
Now Jasmine has to pack something really tasty and pack it for a small fast meal after taekwondo and before school starts. I listed down all the possible stuff she can make. All the tasty fatty stuff, basically I write all the permutation and combinations you could have with potatoes, cheese, butter and paneer. Sometimes you toss them, sometimes you shallow fry them, you pack them, you sandwich them – whatever. Just pass them on.
So now you realize why we did not find great joy on hearing that she was selected for morning Taekwondo. The second perspective is that we are being severely stretched as parents. We got sucked into this mess in spite of not being driven parents. We said no classes for Jispa. Only swimming, which is a good thing? She started performing and moving up and more importantly enjoying her swimming. We had no option but to follow suit. Then this school. We are sucked into a vortex which makes us run around, freely her, revolve our lives around her extra circulars. Waking up early with her is taking a toll on us. How much can we do without breaking? Especially when we get no special thrill in seeing her medals.
All we can do is hope that this will make her a fitter person, a better person and hopefully this is a well-rounded childhood, and most importantly – we keep asking her – you sure you enjoy this, nah? Are you dead sure? You are not doing all this for us – please do only what you can do. The only thing we ensure she does is home work. Rest all is optional.
First perspective – Jispa. The poor thing has a packed schedule. There is regular swimming and taekwondo, and one orphaned guitar class a week. Now in such a packed schedule, she has to manage her homework, extra time pass reading, playing with friends, studies during reviews and what not. In addition to this we are wondering on the physical burden on the child. We try and ensure she gets her adequate sleep, even if it requires us to scold her and switch off the lights when she wants to read. The second thing is that how do we give her adequate nutrition? Jasmine had spoken to a nutrition expert through a common friend. Her advice was that till the child reached adolescence, there is more harm than good if one tries to regulate nutrition through planning. Eat well, eat all you want, ensure balance. This is both great and worrying honest advice. This puts the pressure of nutrition squarely on parents. So now we keep thinking of what is enough or not. Add to this the fact that Jispa is developing an awesome abdomen. She had some serious ab muscles. These won’t let her tummy expand. So she will feel full in smaller meals that she would need from time to time. Then comes school, which is not exactly designed for small meals. They have fixed breaks with long intervals in between. How does Jasmine give her adequate food to last her through the long periods when her tummy is small to store much? At least that is the dilemma we believe exits. I think pretty soon I might have to chat with the school and get some special permission to eat every two hours. A small bite, a mini meal or so. And then the problem of cooking something a nine year old would want to eat. Jasmine goes mad trying to cook stuff. Jasmine is not exactly a blessed cook. She is quite adequate to the job but she is a bit bored cook. Asking her to challenge herself to cook something interesting everyday is a bit of a non starter. Compounding the issue is Jispa deciding at random not to eat her school snack completely. Shit. That just gets everything in a mess. So this time when the taekwondo call came in Jasmine was wondering, how are we going to feed her before the class and what do we give her to eat after the class. Mar gaye re… AND THE BIGGEST ISSUE – Jispa takes forever to eat. She is easily the most bored, lost and sleepy eater in the world. She can eat one bite and then take forever to put the next one in. she can put one bite in the mouth and then hold it in her mouth without chewing it for minutes on end. It drives us wild. Especially when you have to beat the clock in the morning. JISPA CHEW is the most popular word in our house. We have to keep reminding her, scolding her, shouting, everything. She sits with one knee raised to her chin and then rests her hand on it and then it’s waiting for Godot. I went hard after the knee bit. No knee on top. Not that I have a problem with it, but it puts her in a position where she just sits and dreams away. she can take 45 minutes for breakfast. We can’t wake her any early; we can go to school any later. This is a killer. Its kills us as parents. We feel like mean bloody driven parents.
I being the father took the complete cop out. This was more than what my brains could effectively handle. So I suggested the simple route – Complan - a milk drink in the morning which claims to have all the bloody nutrients you could think of. It’s like a vitamin cocktail. Jasmine and I never wanted to give Jispa these cocktails. We were of the belief that as long as you eat right you don’t need any artificial supplements. But given the pressures of time and the added responsibility of a square meal, we are left with no option but to give her a glass of complan in the morning. She likes the taste and drinks it one shot. We don’t need to scold her and she is off, ready to pack a mean punch.
Here she is, having a glass of Complan in the morning.
Now Jasmine has to pack something really tasty and pack it for a small fast meal after taekwondo and before school starts. I listed down all the possible stuff she can make. All the tasty fatty stuff, basically I write all the permutation and combinations you could have with potatoes, cheese, butter and paneer. Sometimes you toss them, sometimes you shallow fry them, you pack them, you sandwich them – whatever. Just pass them on.
So now you realize why we did not find great joy on hearing that she was selected for morning Taekwondo. The second perspective is that we are being severely stretched as parents. We got sucked into this mess in spite of not being driven parents. We said no classes for Jispa. Only swimming, which is a good thing? She started performing and moving up and more importantly enjoying her swimming. We had no option but to follow suit. Then this school. We are sucked into a vortex which makes us run around, freely her, revolve our lives around her extra circulars. Waking up early with her is taking a toll on us. How much can we do without breaking? Especially when we get no special thrill in seeing her medals.
All we can do is hope that this will make her a fitter person, a better person and hopefully this is a well-rounded childhood, and most importantly – we keep asking her – you sure you enjoy this, nah? Are you dead sure? You are not doing all this for us – please do only what you can do. The only thing we ensure she does is home work. Rest all is optional.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
hair today gone tomorrow
It’s only going to be a matter of time when Jispa will start kicking our butt. She already has a strong opinion on a lot of issues. The tough mind that we tried to build into her is now going to come and bite us in the back. Better bite us than her I’d say.
This weekend was a day we spent a lot of time together and I ended up scolding her quite a bit. We having more than our fair share of run ins. She listens to me and then forgets and then does the same stupid thing again. Oh god it’s really frustrating. These are times when parenting is really tested. Also to add to this, she does really feel bad at our scolding. Even when she gets a rap from me, she doesn’t really get hurt. After our fight, which I ensure is brief, I tell her – you don’t really get hurt or feel bad, don’t you? And I smile and she breaks into a smile – no I feel. But then she adds, but no so much. Not at all, I think. That’s Jispa.
I have seen this in parenting. Every once in a while the truce is broken and we have our share of run ins. This carries on for some time till both of us grow up and decide that this is enough. It requires both of us to grow up and decide enough is enough. Sometimes the pressure just gets to you. How much can you scold your kid and not feel bad about it. It’s just a crazy pressure on parenting. It is unsustainable. I think that’s the reason you need two to parent. It is not possible for one individual to remain focused all the time. When I end up scolding, Jasmine must be patient and when she is letting loose, I get in.
It’s taken sometime to even understand that when I am telling Jasmine to calm down or vice versa, we aren’t necessarily saying – you are wrong and I am right. It’s us telling each other that we are both parents – just that, and by virtue of being parents we are both wrong and right at the same time. We just need each other to see a side of it that Jispa, in her antics has blurred. Like I was telling Jasmine the other day, when we decided to be parents we didn’t know that this constant adjusting would a part of the job requirements. Dam. To add pressure to the woes, issues can come from all sorts of wrong places. Things that you have not anticipated. In fact you get stuff from things you thought you had covered.
Around a week or so back, Jispa decided to get a haircut. Normally jispa likes long hair, but given her swimming schedule and her general distaste for combing her hair, it’s almost an impossibility to keep pace with for Jasmine. So Jasmine is always after her to cut it. Jispa can fend off only till a point after which she agrees. So technically its Jispa’s call, but really it’s her mommy’call – that’s jispa’s version. Jasmine’s version is the exact opposite. “I never force her” is what Jasmine says. Sometimes we fathers do walk think lines.
So now where to get it cut? The Saloon that Jispa liked is shut, the other one was too kiddish and the third one is the one Jispa hates and is Jasmine’s preferred one. Arggghh. So under imaginary pressure, (Jasmine says there is no such pressure and Jispa believes there is) Jispa agrees to the last option. And the horror story happens. Jispa hair is cut well lower than what she instructed. Oops the bad haircut pain lasted a couple of days. It was quite bad. She was really really sad and she did not want me or anyone to tell her that she actually looked good. I even told her some stories of me as a teen wanting to get my hair cut at different places in the hope that I somehow look good. I probably couldn’t accept the truth that it was me not my hair cut that decided my looks. I remember once even going to the Oberoi hotel – a huge thing in those days, just to get a hair cut. If I am not wrong Jasmine even funded that haircut. Nothing turned good for me. I always thought only if I had enough money to get myself a good haircut, I might have looked good. The things we believed in those days... haircuts make you look good, or facials solve your acne issue. Anything went. I told her that in reality nothing mattered. Today when I can possibly afford any haircut in Mumbai, anywhere, I go to the same silly saloon I went as a kid. Surely it matters more to you today than me today, but the truth is that you like people not because of their hairstyles but because of who they are and how they behave with you.
Well said, but no effect. She was pissed as ever. She did not want to talk about it. At all. Even a mention of ‘jispa you look cute, met with a curt reply’. There are these days when you realize your child has grown up and that’s that. She has her mind and she has decided to use it.
Now after a few weeks, she has learnt how to comb it or she has plainly accepted it. This Sunday, I told her – aha…. ‘I think all you needed was to let your hair cut grow a bit. Sometimes styles can take time to grow on you.’ I was mighty relieved she did not snap back. She was ok. she even let me click a pic. Here you are…
I told her that next time she can have a haircut wherever she wants. In the best place in Mumbai. No expense spared. She was a bit zapped. I told her she could blow a few thousand bucks if she so wished. I think it’s for her to decide and learn if the hair dresser really makes sense. And if it does give her something she is happy about – chuck it. I wanted to go to a saloon that was expensive. In parenting we try to not make the same mistakes. We only search for new ones.
This weekend was a day we spent a lot of time together and I ended up scolding her quite a bit. We having more than our fair share of run ins. She listens to me and then forgets and then does the same stupid thing again. Oh god it’s really frustrating. These are times when parenting is really tested. Also to add to this, she does really feel bad at our scolding. Even when she gets a rap from me, she doesn’t really get hurt. After our fight, which I ensure is brief, I tell her – you don’t really get hurt or feel bad, don’t you? And I smile and she breaks into a smile – no I feel. But then she adds, but no so much. Not at all, I think. That’s Jispa.
I have seen this in parenting. Every once in a while the truce is broken and we have our share of run ins. This carries on for some time till both of us grow up and decide that this is enough. It requires both of us to grow up and decide enough is enough. Sometimes the pressure just gets to you. How much can you scold your kid and not feel bad about it. It’s just a crazy pressure on parenting. It is unsustainable. I think that’s the reason you need two to parent. It is not possible for one individual to remain focused all the time. When I end up scolding, Jasmine must be patient and when she is letting loose, I get in.
It’s taken sometime to even understand that when I am telling Jasmine to calm down or vice versa, we aren’t necessarily saying – you are wrong and I am right. It’s us telling each other that we are both parents – just that, and by virtue of being parents we are both wrong and right at the same time. We just need each other to see a side of it that Jispa, in her antics has blurred. Like I was telling Jasmine the other day, when we decided to be parents we didn’t know that this constant adjusting would a part of the job requirements. Dam. To add pressure to the woes, issues can come from all sorts of wrong places. Things that you have not anticipated. In fact you get stuff from things you thought you had covered.
Around a week or so back, Jispa decided to get a haircut. Normally jispa likes long hair, but given her swimming schedule and her general distaste for combing her hair, it’s almost an impossibility to keep pace with for Jasmine. So Jasmine is always after her to cut it. Jispa can fend off only till a point after which she agrees. So technically its Jispa’s call, but really it’s her mommy’call – that’s jispa’s version. Jasmine’s version is the exact opposite. “I never force her” is what Jasmine says. Sometimes we fathers do walk think lines.
So now where to get it cut? The Saloon that Jispa liked is shut, the other one was too kiddish and the third one is the one Jispa hates and is Jasmine’s preferred one. Arggghh. So under imaginary pressure, (Jasmine says there is no such pressure and Jispa believes there is) Jispa agrees to the last option. And the horror story happens. Jispa hair is cut well lower than what she instructed. Oops the bad haircut pain lasted a couple of days. It was quite bad. She was really really sad and she did not want me or anyone to tell her that she actually looked good. I even told her some stories of me as a teen wanting to get my hair cut at different places in the hope that I somehow look good. I probably couldn’t accept the truth that it was me not my hair cut that decided my looks. I remember once even going to the Oberoi hotel – a huge thing in those days, just to get a hair cut. If I am not wrong Jasmine even funded that haircut. Nothing turned good for me. I always thought only if I had enough money to get myself a good haircut, I might have looked good. The things we believed in those days... haircuts make you look good, or facials solve your acne issue. Anything went. I told her that in reality nothing mattered. Today when I can possibly afford any haircut in Mumbai, anywhere, I go to the same silly saloon I went as a kid. Surely it matters more to you today than me today, but the truth is that you like people not because of their hairstyles but because of who they are and how they behave with you.
Well said, but no effect. She was pissed as ever. She did not want to talk about it. At all. Even a mention of ‘jispa you look cute, met with a curt reply’. There are these days when you realize your child has grown up and that’s that. She has her mind and she has decided to use it.
Now after a few weeks, she has learnt how to comb it or she has plainly accepted it. This Sunday, I told her – aha…. ‘I think all you needed was to let your hair cut grow a bit. Sometimes styles can take time to grow on you.’ I was mighty relieved she did not snap back. She was ok. she even let me click a pic. Here you are…
I told her that next time she can have a haircut wherever she wants. In the best place in Mumbai. No expense spared. She was a bit zapped. I told her she could blow a few thousand bucks if she so wished. I think it’s for her to decide and learn if the hair dresser really makes sense. And if it does give her something she is happy about – chuck it. I wanted to go to a saloon that was expensive. In parenting we try to not make the same mistakes. We only search for new ones.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
new thrills
Cricket season has started to good effect. As the B team we have actually won two matches in a row. It’s a great thing for the B team. We hardly ever won matches and we hardly ever had enough people to make the playing 11. This time around we have more than 15 players to choose from. It happens because we give enough chances for people to play in the 11 and when they play they get to bat or bowl. Now thanks to this everyone wants to play in the B team and the fringe players from the A team are trying to get themselves downgraded to the B team, so that they get to play. Hahah. Now that’s a nice win.
One day while coming in for a match I happened to come in early at Shivaji Park and I saw a coach talking to his wards. He was giving a lecture on batting. He was Lad sir from Bengal cricket club. Taking the opportunity I hung around to listen to him. It was an amazing learning experience. A lot of what he said reinforced what I knew but at the same time a few things helped me improve my game. I always knew that I must keep my hand and body close together but he taught how to. That day after his talk I immediately put the learnings to good use and scored quite a few runs. In fact a few boundaries I hit after being tired were completely thanks to the man. Keeping the bat close to the body helped me not get bowled. It was a learning I am not likely to forget. In fact I was going on so strong I thought I would hit the elusive 50 runs that I have never yet hit in the sport. But we were only two wickets down with five more overs to go. I could have gone on and fulfilled my dream but, thank god I kept my brains about. I knew that I had a bunch of guys wanting to bat. B team is about all those characters waiting to bat sitting inside the pavilion. I started taking suicidal runs, and it took some amount of runs to finally get me out. In bargain I got quite a few runs on board. That is the B team spirit. More get to play.
Here is the photo of the coaching session which I heard.
Hey - that’s a long time since I put a picture on the blog. There will be more coming. I finally upgraded my cell phone from the old trusty blackberry I had. It served me well for three and a half years. It was pretty high tech when I bought it and now in a short period of time it has become completely obsolete. And the way electronics are designed, I suspect they put in an auto destruct mechanism that shuts them out after a predestinated time. My poor handy phone sputtered through most of last year. I would handle the battery with care, the SD card refused to work. The camera didn’t work - everything went wrong except that – I got my mails in time and I could make calls. What more does a guy want?
Well, what more till I got myself the latest android. Now on my Samsung Galaxy, I click pictures, update my good reads account by simply scanning the barcode on the books, download and listen to my podcasts etc. In fact one day in the morning while Jispa was swimming I heard a podcast on Hayek vs Keynes on planet money , understood the difference, went online and checked out Hayek on Wikipedia, the saw two amazing rap videos that put both in perspectives. What an intelligent one hour, thanks to the new device I put in my pocket. Yes it also makes calls and the previous phone was somehow better and faster in that respect but hell, I am not complaining.
One day while coming in for a match I happened to come in early at Shivaji Park and I saw a coach talking to his wards. He was giving a lecture on batting. He was Lad sir from Bengal cricket club. Taking the opportunity I hung around to listen to him. It was an amazing learning experience. A lot of what he said reinforced what I knew but at the same time a few things helped me improve my game. I always knew that I must keep my hand and body close together but he taught how to. That day after his talk I immediately put the learnings to good use and scored quite a few runs. In fact a few boundaries I hit after being tired were completely thanks to the man. Keeping the bat close to the body helped me not get bowled. It was a learning I am not likely to forget. In fact I was going on so strong I thought I would hit the elusive 50 runs that I have never yet hit in the sport. But we were only two wickets down with five more overs to go. I could have gone on and fulfilled my dream but, thank god I kept my brains about. I knew that I had a bunch of guys wanting to bat. B team is about all those characters waiting to bat sitting inside the pavilion. I started taking suicidal runs, and it took some amount of runs to finally get me out. In bargain I got quite a few runs on board. That is the B team spirit. More get to play.
Here is the photo of the coaching session which I heard.
Hey - that’s a long time since I put a picture on the blog. There will be more coming. I finally upgraded my cell phone from the old trusty blackberry I had. It served me well for three and a half years. It was pretty high tech when I bought it and now in a short period of time it has become completely obsolete. And the way electronics are designed, I suspect they put in an auto destruct mechanism that shuts them out after a predestinated time. My poor handy phone sputtered through most of last year. I would handle the battery with care, the SD card refused to work. The camera didn’t work - everything went wrong except that – I got my mails in time and I could make calls. What more does a guy want?
Well, what more till I got myself the latest android. Now on my Samsung Galaxy, I click pictures, update my good reads account by simply scanning the barcode on the books, download and listen to my podcasts etc. In fact one day in the morning while Jispa was swimming I heard a podcast on Hayek vs Keynes on planet money , understood the difference, went online and checked out Hayek on Wikipedia, the saw two amazing rap videos that put both in perspectives. What an intelligent one hour, thanks to the new device I put in my pocket. Yes it also makes calls and the previous phone was somehow better and faster in that respect but hell, I am not complaining.
Friday, November 04, 2011
lucky chic
Jispa considers herself lucky to be born in 2002.
As I have blogged earlier, I have some great times with Jispa telling her stories from my life. Some older stories of me as a kid. I then build on it and talk about it and our conversation progresses. Last week we were staying at this amazing place called the hermitage guesthouse. No electricity, no phones, no network. Awesome fun. I am quite proud of the way Jispa is now easy with the leeches. She just picks them up, rolls them and flicks them out. A real pro. One day we went hiking up the highest point of the area. At a 1000 meters above mean sea level, it gave some of the most spectacular views of the region. Jispa is quite the enthusiastic climber. Light with strong legs she manages to reach up and keep pace. It was coming down she got tired. On her way back she wanted to rest and was tired.
I then used the trick that seems to be working these days. I told her that if she kept walking I would tell her stories from my life. And I told her stories from my life and she kept walking. I told her about how when I was in fifth standard, when we were at Ahmedabad to attend a weeding when dad got his first heart attack. How an attack works. How the heart is a muscle and how the arteries carrying blood get clogged by cholesterol and stop the blood form flowing. How the heart loses power and then works at lower capacity. And we spoke a whole host of things. Soon enough, we reached the base of the hill and that brought us to end that conversation.
During the drive back home later, we also spoke about Hero ink pens and E=MC2. Don’t ask me how it got there and when she understood from it. But yes we did discuss electrons, neutrons and atoms and molecules and some part of the periodic table.
A few days back while waking her up I was speaking about an story. How when we were younger and growing up, we did not have any brands in the country – no coke, no addidas, no MacDonald’s, no lays, no kurkures nothing. Not even faber castle crayons or stationery. We had no book stores like crosswords and we hardly had books. All we read was the amar chitra katha. And I went on and on. I said that that time India did not want these foreign brands to come into the country and we were scared of them and hence we had very little choice. Then in her half sleeps she asks ‘this is because of what they did to us?’. Huh? “What who did to us?”. “This is because of what the British did to us”. “Who told you that Jispa?”. Her standard reply in these cases – “my brain”. I was pretty skeptical. I quizzed her further. She told me that he teacher had once explained that the British had come to trade with us and then ruled over us and then she connected the dots and voila – this is what her brain told her. Excellent deduction. My baby is growing every day. I guess a nine year old has a decent logical deduction power. We just don’t make them use it enough.
Just the other day I was discussing with someone on the education system; CBSE board or ICSC board or IGSC or the good old now maligned SSC board that I studied in. My belief is that all this curriculum importance is a bit over stated. What is more important is the quality of teachers. I have had my share of really sweet teachers who taught complex subjects well and the idiots who could make any subject dull and boring. Somehow it’s always the Hindi teachers who have been the worst of the lot. A close second come the history and geography teachers. No wonder we have a warped and view of history and our memories of geography is limited to coloring some northern part of Russia blue to denote the tundra region or something.
So coming back to Jispa and her mornings. She summed the conversation aptly by saying – “I am lucky to have been born in 2002 and not earlier”. I think she was almost pitying me. Tch tch.
As I have blogged earlier, I have some great times with Jispa telling her stories from my life. Some older stories of me as a kid. I then build on it and talk about it and our conversation progresses. Last week we were staying at this amazing place called the hermitage guesthouse. No electricity, no phones, no network. Awesome fun. I am quite proud of the way Jispa is now easy with the leeches. She just picks them up, rolls them and flicks them out. A real pro. One day we went hiking up the highest point of the area. At a 1000 meters above mean sea level, it gave some of the most spectacular views of the region. Jispa is quite the enthusiastic climber. Light with strong legs she manages to reach up and keep pace. It was coming down she got tired. On her way back she wanted to rest and was tired.
I then used the trick that seems to be working these days. I told her that if she kept walking I would tell her stories from my life. And I told her stories from my life and she kept walking. I told her about how when I was in fifth standard, when we were at Ahmedabad to attend a weeding when dad got his first heart attack. How an attack works. How the heart is a muscle and how the arteries carrying blood get clogged by cholesterol and stop the blood form flowing. How the heart loses power and then works at lower capacity. And we spoke a whole host of things. Soon enough, we reached the base of the hill and that brought us to end that conversation.
During the drive back home later, we also spoke about Hero ink pens and E=MC2. Don’t ask me how it got there and when she understood from it. But yes we did discuss electrons, neutrons and atoms and molecules and some part of the periodic table.
A few days back while waking her up I was speaking about an story. How when we were younger and growing up, we did not have any brands in the country – no coke, no addidas, no MacDonald’s, no lays, no kurkures nothing. Not even faber castle crayons or stationery. We had no book stores like crosswords and we hardly had books. All we read was the amar chitra katha. And I went on and on. I said that that time India did not want these foreign brands to come into the country and we were scared of them and hence we had very little choice. Then in her half sleeps she asks ‘this is because of what they did to us?’. Huh? “What who did to us?”. “This is because of what the British did to us”. “Who told you that Jispa?”. Her standard reply in these cases – “my brain”. I was pretty skeptical. I quizzed her further. She told me that he teacher had once explained that the British had come to trade with us and then ruled over us and then she connected the dots and voila – this is what her brain told her. Excellent deduction. My baby is growing every day. I guess a nine year old has a decent logical deduction power. We just don’t make them use it enough.
Just the other day I was discussing with someone on the education system; CBSE board or ICSC board or IGSC or the good old now maligned SSC board that I studied in. My belief is that all this curriculum importance is a bit over stated. What is more important is the quality of teachers. I have had my share of really sweet teachers who taught complex subjects well and the idiots who could make any subject dull and boring. Somehow it’s always the Hindi teachers who have been the worst of the lot. A close second come the history and geography teachers. No wonder we have a warped and view of history and our memories of geography is limited to coloring some northern part of Russia blue to denote the tundra region or something.
So coming back to Jispa and her mornings. She summed the conversation aptly by saying – “I am lucky to have been born in 2002 and not earlier”. I think she was almost pitying me. Tch tch.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
culture vulture
The monsoon has ended and my east facing room in office is lit by natural light till about noon. I have direct natural morning light wafting through the window. I had a choice of rooms and I choose this one as it had natural light coming in directly. This enables me to keep my lights off while having enough light to work. In fact while I sit in light the rest of the room is in relative darkness. In fact yesterday when I first came decided to let my lights be off, a team member came in to ask if I was depressed. Some wanted to ask if anything was wrong. It’s funny how a simple thing can be so misinterpreted.
This firm where I work has its own conservative climate. The nail that stands out is quickly hammered down. It takes a lot of effort to remain standing. Also in my earlier firm I had spent 7 years. 7 years is enough to establish yourself and to stand out not being worried about being beaten. A swagger that is hard to put down. This thing is sometimes quite stifling. It is almost that it doesn’t want to move. It takes a lot of effort to push it but when it does move, much like a juggernaut, I guess it will be forceful and in some ways unstoppable.
Every family, office or any group of people have a set of unwritten rules that govern them. It’s called culture. Culture is not good nor bad. But resistance to change is probably bad. Culture by definition must move on. So many times I have seen people use culture as a reason to stop change. Culture is so funny. It is something that is constantly changing, it is something that is constantly resisting change. We don’t realize how much it has changed. Sometimes when we ask for people to be hanged and I ask the question – do we as a race have the right to take other people’s lives? Is it merely a cultural phenomenon. Possibly a few generations later out children will look upon us as barbaric. People look at me aghast. You mean to say that Kasab must not be hanged? I am not saying that. All I am saying is that ‘todays’ truth is that he must be hanged, but tomorrow’s truth could be that he must not be.
Quartering is today considered a barbaric act. In London convicts were fastened to a hurdle, or wooden panel, and drawn by horse to the place of execution, where they were hanged (almost to the point of death), emasculated, disembowelled, beheaded and quartered (chopped into four pieces). Their remains were often displayed in prominent places across the country, such as London Bridge. This is what Wikipedia says about it. Another book mentions, possibly apocryphal but not too hard to believe, that people used to take it as a picnic event, coming it with their kids and bread baskets to witness what would churn most stomachs today. I think even Newton in his avatar as the head of the British mint ordered the quartering of a person suspected of counterfeiting.
I find it futile to comment on culture is that sense. But one thing I must say, I think that while it may be right to preserve culture (people love monotony), it is stupid and I think down right suicidal to resist change. People who change bring in fresh ideas, new ideas, newer efficiencies and a chance to grow further. A climate of change is critical to the formation of strong societies. Another place I read that cities also need a balance in people who stay on rent versus people who own homes. The researcher, if I remember well, says that ratio must not exceed 55% of owned homes. Because as soon as you buy your house you are in many ways not ready to take on risk. Similarly attracting a bohemian culture that is responsive and possibly aggressively embracing change as a part of your ecosystem will probably help in taking your society forward.
Mumbai has this very big risk as I see it. Our rentals are rising rapidly. The housing prices are going up. Everywhere it is becoming almost impossible to own or even rent a home. This is wrong for a city. A city needs to attract young people with lower salaries but a high desire to make it big. It must allow them to intermingle and work alongside well. The best ideas will come in from the immigrants. I look around me in office, how many of us are third generation Mumbai residents. Most of us can’t trace our roots in Mumbai beyond our parents or grandparents. My worry is that high property prices and subsequent high rentals will soon drive people out of Mumbai. Today we are unable to see this but this will happen. All it requires is one big guy to move out and start another hub. Mumbai lost the software hub to Bangalore and other cities. Today talks are that all mobile apps are being made out of Chennai. Similarly, cultural hubs will also move out.
Interesting things can only happen to cities which allow for interesting people to come and settle. Right winged groups scaring immigrants can’t help. Insular societies building high boundaries and stopping free entry and exit of players, through restrictions or scaring them away or even economic restrictions will only doom themselves.
The challenge is to remain what you believe in while being open to have dissenters in place. Whether we allow them to shout out loud, or we allow them to come in cheap, or we allow them to fail. We must tolerate, no we must encourage change. A change that is challenges the basis of what we stand for. I hope my daughter grows up and shows me this blog when I stand in her way. It is so difficult when we don’t see it. We are so used to it, but we must. I must. Not all must change. It could be too disruptive , emotionally; but a lot can, slowly, surely. As long as we accept that it must, that’s a good step forward.
My job here – I see it as a change agent. It’s tough and irritating. But I must get down, and change something. Slowly. One starfish at a time. That’s what keeps me going. Some days are bad and some days are good. But I must try and change and I must be open to forces changing me. Now its beginning to sound like a prayer…. Amen.
This firm where I work has its own conservative climate. The nail that stands out is quickly hammered down. It takes a lot of effort to remain standing. Also in my earlier firm I had spent 7 years. 7 years is enough to establish yourself and to stand out not being worried about being beaten. A swagger that is hard to put down. This thing is sometimes quite stifling. It is almost that it doesn’t want to move. It takes a lot of effort to push it but when it does move, much like a juggernaut, I guess it will be forceful and in some ways unstoppable.
Every family, office or any group of people have a set of unwritten rules that govern them. It’s called culture. Culture is not good nor bad. But resistance to change is probably bad. Culture by definition must move on. So many times I have seen people use culture as a reason to stop change. Culture is so funny. It is something that is constantly changing, it is something that is constantly resisting change. We don’t realize how much it has changed. Sometimes when we ask for people to be hanged and I ask the question – do we as a race have the right to take other people’s lives? Is it merely a cultural phenomenon. Possibly a few generations later out children will look upon us as barbaric. People look at me aghast. You mean to say that Kasab must not be hanged? I am not saying that. All I am saying is that ‘todays’ truth is that he must be hanged, but tomorrow’s truth could be that he must not be.
Quartering is today considered a barbaric act. In London convicts were fastened to a hurdle, or wooden panel, and drawn by horse to the place of execution, where they were hanged (almost to the point of death), emasculated, disembowelled, beheaded and quartered (chopped into four pieces). Their remains were often displayed in prominent places across the country, such as London Bridge. This is what Wikipedia says about it. Another book mentions, possibly apocryphal but not too hard to believe, that people used to take it as a picnic event, coming it with their kids and bread baskets to witness what would churn most stomachs today. I think even Newton in his avatar as the head of the British mint ordered the quartering of a person suspected of counterfeiting.
I find it futile to comment on culture is that sense. But one thing I must say, I think that while it may be right to preserve culture (people love monotony), it is stupid and I think down right suicidal to resist change. People who change bring in fresh ideas, new ideas, newer efficiencies and a chance to grow further. A climate of change is critical to the formation of strong societies. Another place I read that cities also need a balance in people who stay on rent versus people who own homes. The researcher, if I remember well, says that ratio must not exceed 55% of owned homes. Because as soon as you buy your house you are in many ways not ready to take on risk. Similarly attracting a bohemian culture that is responsive and possibly aggressively embracing change as a part of your ecosystem will probably help in taking your society forward.
Mumbai has this very big risk as I see it. Our rentals are rising rapidly. The housing prices are going up. Everywhere it is becoming almost impossible to own or even rent a home. This is wrong for a city. A city needs to attract young people with lower salaries but a high desire to make it big. It must allow them to intermingle and work alongside well. The best ideas will come in from the immigrants. I look around me in office, how many of us are third generation Mumbai residents. Most of us can’t trace our roots in Mumbai beyond our parents or grandparents. My worry is that high property prices and subsequent high rentals will soon drive people out of Mumbai. Today we are unable to see this but this will happen. All it requires is one big guy to move out and start another hub. Mumbai lost the software hub to Bangalore and other cities. Today talks are that all mobile apps are being made out of Chennai. Similarly, cultural hubs will also move out.
Interesting things can only happen to cities which allow for interesting people to come and settle. Right winged groups scaring immigrants can’t help. Insular societies building high boundaries and stopping free entry and exit of players, through restrictions or scaring them away or even economic restrictions will only doom themselves.
The challenge is to remain what you believe in while being open to have dissenters in place. Whether we allow them to shout out loud, or we allow them to come in cheap, or we allow them to fail. We must tolerate, no we must encourage change. A change that is challenges the basis of what we stand for. I hope my daughter grows up and shows me this blog when I stand in her way. It is so difficult when we don’t see it. We are so used to it, but we must. I must. Not all must change. It could be too disruptive , emotionally; but a lot can, slowly, surely. As long as we accept that it must, that’s a good step forward.
My job here – I see it as a change agent. It’s tough and irritating. But I must get down, and change something. Slowly. One starfish at a time. That’s what keeps me going. Some days are bad and some days are good. But I must try and change and I must be open to forces changing me. Now its beginning to sound like a prayer…. Amen.
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