hope makes the world go around

Teaching has a new meaning these days for me. Jispa started coming for my lectures. That is crazy awesome. I have taught for so many years for the joy of teaching but also for a secret joy – of being able to teach Jispa. Of course, she doesn’t open her mouth in class but she sits through and tries to understand what all I have to teach. It fires me up no end.

My lectures are at 11 am on Saturday. This gives me the perfect schedule, to wake up, fix myself an awesome coffee and then attack the college. It’s a perfect start to the week end.

Practicing what I preach, every lectures starts with a test that I have designed on Google forms (thanks to another young friend who comes along) on a topic that I have given a note in advance. Then on we talk about the paper / questions etc and take it forward. This is something surprisingly that the students feel happy about. They want tests. They want to read and come to class and wonder what’s happening.

The last time around I gave them an assignment to see the movie – The Founder. This was on the McDonalds founder, Ray Croc. It was an outstanding movie and they showed brilliantly how the original founders – the McDonald brothers, invented the fast food restaurant business but couldn’t scale it. It showed how Ray Croc scaled the business and also how he needed to do some accounting jugglery as well. Ray couldn’t make too much money off the restaurant and hence to scale it an account advised him to move into the real estate space. He bought/leased the land and then sublet to the franchisee for a higher fee, plus the franchisee revenue from sales. This allowed for a crazy increase in expansion rate.

What I loved about the movie was how they clearly explained how the brothers invented the system by killing a lot of unnecessary processes and items that stopped it from becoming efficient. And how Ray Croc understood that and while he had major run ins with the brothers, as regards the business proposition, the brothers were essentially right and had gotten the efficiency formula perfect. He kept that alive.

This was, to my mind an awesome movie and the perfect movie for watching for the young kids who want to understand management. Its typically very easy to do various different things but very difficult to focus on one thing alone.

So, I give them some stuff to read or watch and then come to class, dur9ng which I give a small multiple choice test. This test is something that kids can take from their mobile phones anywhere. The time given to the test is also very tight and the test has around 6-9 questions which are given in random order. Hence, it’s very difficult to copy as well. Even if two kids are sitting next to each other, its near impossible to copy and take help. If the time pressure is so high that you barely have time to think and read the questions, you have no time to help or copy in a randomized test.

I love the class as I am prepared on what to talk and then we discuss various elements. That Jispa is present just simply makes it even more stressful for me. I want to do better for her. I want her to enjoy the experience. I want to discuss stuff with her. She too is very keen to understand and learn from me. She was missing one class but she insisted that I explain to her what I had missed and that she could catch up. That’s nice. That’s the best way to know if I am making sense. My teen age daughter likes to attend my lectures, that’s my ultimate vote of confidence. I was telling Jasmine that no matter what, possibly blood is thicker than water. I love teaching and I love my lectures. I do it for enjoyment and not for money. But you add my daughter into the equation and the pressure and pleasure goes up. Funny. Or possibly not so, in hindsight.

I write writing blogs but because Jispa is now grown up and I have so many conversations with her and she understands the issues, when it comes to writing the blog, many times I stare at a blank screen. What to write when the main motivation is outside of the process.

Recently Jispa told me that there are only 6 months more. More for what, I asked? For me to be 15. And then? And then to read your blog. Oh! Is that? Yes, she reminded me. I had promised her that I would allow her to read my blog when she turns 15. My god. Time did fly. I was quiet. She then said “you don’t remember promising, do you. You thought I would just forget eh. Well I have not and you will give me the blog to read on my 15^th birthday”. Of course. Of course. Surely, I will give her the blog to read. I wrote it for more than ten years for this moment. Will I continue to write afterwards, I hope so, but it will be interesting to write knowing that your kids will read it instantly :)

It will be an interesting birthday gift to her. A little more than 10 years in the making. Wow. Such a big thing from such a small start. I wonder how she will read it, from the start, randomly, will she get bored, will she come back and ask clarifications, kick my ass for what I have written or done, will she cry on a few blogs, will she understand, will she jump in joy, will it give her solace in trouble? My big one is the last one. I may be around or not, but I hope whatever I have written will someday assist her in some sort of way. Hope.

whats love got to do!

Ah, just past the valentine day. When I was in college Valentine day became a significant day in my life. My wife first kissed me on Valentine day :) in Eros theatre.

Eros itself had an important place in my life in college. Eros along with Sterling, Regal and to a lesser extent – New Excelsior. When I was in college we did not have the coffee shops and the places where people just went to hang out and do nothing. I so wish they were there when Jasmine and I were having our courtship days. So, young couples like us had no option really but to go for a movie. Movies theaters were nice dark places, where you could enjoy with friends as well and they were pretty cheap. In ’91 the price of a ticket at Sterling, I remember was around 8 bucks for stalls and around 10 for balcony and 15/16 for dress circle. To put it in perspective a croissant at ‘Croissants etc’ – the cake shop we used to go to – was at around 10 buks. Movies were cheap and cute places for couples to go and spend time with each other. 3 full hours of togetherness.

Valentine days were significant in our lives then. The college would come alive with love and hearts and red everywhere. Couple would revel in the romance that was in the air and guys would muster up courage to propose on this day. The card and gift shop called “Archies”, names after the archetype the young kids aspired for, would do crazy business as young ones would spend hours searching for greeting cards or gifts for their beaus. Falling in love was a slightly expensive affair.

We were possibly the first generation that started celebrating it with all gusto and pomp. Every beggar and street vendor would sell truckloads of long stem roses wrapped in white cellophane. So many of the roses and cards would land in the gutter and in the dustbin. 80% of these were because the girls rejected them and 20% of these because the girls couldn’t take them home. Valentine’s day was frowned upon as not being a part of our culture and heritage. Protests and scores of articles would be written for and against it. In the end, I guess the politicos had to bow down to the general mood of the people and silence their voices. Love cannot be stopped. It cannot be directed and slowly it will break all taboos and restrictions we place on it. I love how it is happening everywhere.

Recently we went for an engagement of Jasmine’s nephew. As we were entering the hall, I realized that the lady he was getting married to didn’t sound like a gujju name. Slowly my senses acted up, the crowd at the venue too looked different. Some kids didn’t look like kutchis and I overheard some Marathi – possibly friends. A few more minutes into the function and I knew something was different. Then when the boy’s brother came to me and we chatted up, I realized. Love marriage. Ah. The girl is Maharastrian and they met doing some professional courses. There was opposition at home from the mother of the groom but everybody worked on her and convinced her. Hah!

It was nice to see these barriers falling. At my time, the first barrier to fall was the simple issue of choice of bride. I was lucky as Jasmine and me are both Jains and some similar sub caste. Just a small difference of being gujju and kutchi. But large similarities existed. But it was a love marriage nevertheless and it broke some new ground in the family for the first time. Now inter caste marriage is happening and that is breaking another ceiling. The auntie I guess will soon realise that while she keeps her family in control and ensures a happily knit environment, love knows no barriers. The bride and the groom were looking so cute together and happy together, quietly knowing that they smashed one large barrier. Almost like – one large breakthrough for them, one small breakthrough for the rest to follow.

All the talk about integration of communities and a secular society will only bear fruit if we integrate in a real way if we allow our children to marry of their choice across barriers of caste, creed, ethnicity, age and sex. To have a really integrated society and culture you have to set people free. Simply standing up for the national anthem when it’s played in theaters and mouth it loud will lead to nothing. I would hazard that it will only create more exclusion and a behavior of race superiority. It will be ingrained towards more right wing behavior and nation will only fragment not build. Allow the tribes to intermingle for the best possible genepool distribution and competition. Allow people to move freely across cities for work and employment and from that will new ideas emerge.

Ah! But the power of unbounded love will force more power to kneel before it. Not like in the movies, where one love forces power, it will be a collective effort of love across generations. I am happy I put my one stone in the pot for the level to rise. I am happy that kids after me, will put in their stones as well. Slowly the water will overflow.

Bonus video – in the name of love!

Another random video. This is more for the lyrics that contained these words that I read somewhere

How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

But still and the full lyrics are below

(read till end – There is a post script)

Lyrics

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

In - five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died

It's time now - to sing out
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love

Soloist number one
Measure, measure your life in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Also on another note - I was talking to a young kid on how Valentine’s day is not so significant in our life now that we are all married and older and we don’t really gift each other much. Also add to that, that we both are … cynical? What’s a better word for it? Yes – skeptical. We just are practical about this. Yes we did wish each other but that was more for fun than anything else. Just playing out loud the ridiculousness of the ritual. Hehehe.

daddy blues

The greatest truth of parenting is that ‘by the time you realize your dad was right, you have a child that thinks you are wrong’. Luckily Jispa and me are probably better than my dad and me. We learn and understand and think about parenting largely from our experiences. Some of the best times I have had with my dad was when he and me sat and discussed stuff. So, from there I took a branch and built a tree around discussion and talk. I have tried to build my relationship with my child around that. I miss the discussions that I had with my dad and sometimes I wish he was around so that I can have some chats on this with him. My dad got his first heart attack at around 45 and his second and final at 58. I hadn’t realized the issues or the moments that I would remember him best for.

It easy to remember the sad memories and that of being scolded but then as you grow and as you have various experiences with your child you realise different things that your dad was right about.

One of the things that I don’t quite happily remember was when he went after my breathing. He wanted me to keep my mouth shut and breathe through the nose. Simple. He would see me come back from a game and he would see that my nasal passage was blocked and that I would be gulping for air and he would in in no uncertain terms tick me off. He would tell me to close my mouth at every instance. While eating, while walking, while reading, while dozing off and while talking. He was very upset with me keeping my mouth open. He was right. My keeping my mouth open would cause me to breathe shallow and would cause a lot of issues. It would break the fundamental rhythm of my breathing. It was a wrong habit and he was right in correcting it.

But I also don’t have too many happy memories of it while he was correcting them. It’s not a nice thing when your dad is going after a bad habit of yours.

Thanks to that today I largely keep my mouth closed and I know how to breathe well and I see so many kids around who haven’t learnt this simple thing – keep your mouth shut. I see so many women especially with a pout. Their lips remain separate for no rhyme or reason. This is the famous pout that models also show off. I saw Jispa with this annoying pout as well. Now I didn’t want to be like my dad on this. It would have caused my dad a lot of pressure to be like this for me and I dint want Jispa to go through the monster in me for this.

Luckily I have a channel of communication open with her. I had a conversation on this with Jispa. I explained to her how it’s important to breathe with her nose. How if you don’t use the nose it creates blockages, possibly thanks to all the unused mucus, and how it comes back to haunt you. She understood. She improved. Recently she had a small hairline fracture while attempting a high jump in school for the sports day. She landed on her hand and broke her elbow. What to do? My questions to her were – did you cry – Nopes. Nice one. Did you at least clear the height? – Nopes – A dear what a waste. The happy by product of this was that she was at home for 15 days without swimming. That meant a whole load of rest for us. Also, it was very important considering that we were to start repainting of the house and we had to stay at my brother’s place while he was vacationing. It was a nice thing for us in hindsight that our temporary relocation came alongside her fracture. We could manage without too much mess in our lives.

But coming back – she was out of action from swimming and when she restated it took her some time to get going. One of the things she was feeling is that her breathing rhythm was out of whack. For a swimmer that’s a key thing. She explained that her muscles were right, her lung capacity seemed ok, but it just felt that she was getting less oxygen per breath. I told her that, I think it’s the effect of not swimming and keeping her mouth open. While she swam, her nasal passage would remain clear and any cardio exercise would help further clear it. Ever since I started swimming and then started playing badminton, I have hardly ever gotten a cold. I remember getting sinus in the past but now my theory is that a good dose of heavy breathing helps clear the nasal passage and keeps the cold out. It’s a gift of oxygen to our bodies.

I told her about my experiences and asked her to learn from it. It was a lovely chat. She understood and gave her perspective and then she decided that she was going to try and keep her mouth shut as much as possible.

So, what is this blog about? Is it about breathing, about talking, about scolding, about me, about my dad. I think it is most about how much I miss my dad at times. I learnt quite a bit from him. I missed all the lovely conversations I had with him, I hate all the times he scolded me. But I know what a millstone he must have hung around his neck when he scolded me. Three kids and two boys in it. Of which my dad always thought of me as the kid with the most waste of potential ratio. I know what a long way I have travelled to reach where I have. The struggle and the pain I have gone through. I haven’t reached anywhere by simple god given talent. It’s been a struggle, to achieve in work, to be a parent, to be a ‘dad’, to stay fit, to be alive, to give and retain gyan – a lot of struggle.

In that I have hardly given my dad the credit that is due. Slowly I realise how it works :)

bonus video - something my dad listened to