lif kara de

Today as I was leaving for a Microsoft conference I thought a bit on which t shirt I should wear. Today being a Friday I wasn’t going to wear formals, no matter what the bloody occasion. So I choose an appropriate red t shirt that said ‘unfakeable linux’. I didn’t get kicked out for sure. Thank you v-inu for the t-shirt. I got my two bits of hehe snigger value.

So as I was driving out of the complex, I saw a woman with a purse and slightly heavy looking bag, slightly distraught. .she seemed to be looking at taxi’s eagerly, but they all seemed to be full and there were none waiting. I passed her. Then stopped in front and then thought a bit. I said ‘what the heck’. I put the car in reverse and went back to her. She might have been in her late twenties. Overcoming my fear of rejection even while doing what is essentially a good Samaritan act I rolled down my windows (with automatic windows, you don’t really roll them down you just press a button on the side, but you get the drift… do you). So I rolled down the windows and shouted out… you want a lift outside till the taxis? She looked at me for a second and thought for another… “ya, sure, thanks”. It is a bit ackward for me I guess, but I really feel bad for people at Bhakti park (the colony where I live). The dam place is separated from the road via a small rivulet and there is only one bridge across it. The exit from that bridge is a good 110 meters from my house and around a 100 less from where I gave the lady a lift.

I asked her where she was going. She wanted to go to lower parel and since I was planning to go via dadar, so to avoid the crazy traffic on the western expressway, I offered to drop her off. But you know what, its always a little awkward for me. I give lift but I really don’t want to be seen making any conversation. So I don’t initiate any conversation. But these days women are changing, they are getting far more confident. They are ones initiating conversation and leading. It wasn’t so when I started college in 91, but the younger lot is far more at ease with themselves and life in general. I asked if she was from out of Mumbai. She was from Delhi. No wonder I told her. All the ones that look lost in the morning are from Delhi. I told her to take the bus. That would take her to dadar from right inside the colony. But it seems as she was Delhi she had a general aversion to the bus service, to which I told her that I would never ever worry if my wife or daughter would be using the BEST service. It is by and large, safe and honorable.

It so happened that she was friend of a colleague from office. When I spoke to the colleague, she was surprised that her friend accepted a lift from a total stranger. Come to think of it, ya… I was a total stranger but I guess the vibe is what people bet on or the fact that it’s pretty irritating to be stranded without a taxi early morning, forcing you to take silly risks. Whatever. But it is heartening to see more women confident and relaxed. Today at the conference venue also I cracked a joke with my comrade about the biscuits only to face a rejoinder by a woman I don’t know who was standing beside. That’s good.

ab tu chilla ke dikha... chilla....

There… I have my office desk all set up for blasting the dam music. I was inspired by this ted talk by Julian Treasure on how sounds affect us all, especially in office productivity.

Nah. actually the answer is elsewhere. We had this huge set of Logitech speakers at home to connect to the laptop so that we can watch movies / CD’s. It was quite a pain, large unwieldy things with multiple wires getting entangled all the time. Two speakers with some sub woofer boofer something. A real irritant. they look nice and sexy in the photos here but they must show all the wiring in the photo as well. no one will buy it then.

Then we came across these really tiny speakers (x minimax) that could be connected to the laptop. They had inbuilt batteries that could be charged and hence no constant electric connection as well. Hence the big ones have no where to go but office. they each must no more than 2 or 2 and a half inches tall.

So now I have this huge ugly (but nice and clear) speakers set up in office. I also sit in an unusually noisy section in the office with one particular lady who handles 3 peons. She keeps shouting at them. In fact she keeps shouting at the four poor junior reportees she has. She reminds me of the Egyptian pharaohs whipping their slaves into building the pyramids. She is like one hunterwaali all the time. Add to that a screeching voice. It all makes for a noisy atmosphere.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for a noisy fun filled office. Go ahead shout loudly, crack jokes, play music, but… if one goes on as a nag all the time then it does create some issues.

That’s what I also try to avoid whiling reprimanding someone. Use voice to get effect but use it sparingly. Even if I scream at Jispa. It will be one loud short scream, then your tone must go down, you must talk less, you must communicate exactly what you want in soft measured tones. Being a constant machine gun is a nuisance for all.

So now I am all set for war. Loud noise will be greeted by louder soothing sound. I have to somewhere get the chants that play in every music shop in Rishikesh. The beautiful soothing chants (dev prema – I think) playing along the Ganges while you are sipping hot lemon mint tea at devraj coffee corner while flipping through your William Dalrymple “city of djinns”; with the Lonely planet at your side; over looking the bustle at Laxman jhulla.

A ha… kya vichar hai aapke… prabhuji.. aap dhanya ho. Nahin nahin…App Dhaniya ho..

who's on your right?

I came across the pamphlet in the newspapers of a certain ten day international Islamic conference and exhibition, for understanding Islam and Global unity. I read that the conference focus is to create better awareness and understanding of Islam and remove misconceptions and false fear and hate against it, followed by more lofty and world peace missions. Surely noble and relevant goals.

Fair I thought. But what caught my eye was not the mission but the organizational features of the conference.

I quote “largest … in terms of grandeur, excellence”, “Grand main stage: 12,000 sq ft huge with state of the art intelligent lighting and props, modified everyday over 10 days for a fresh look and feel’, “professional Tv recording… with ….blah blah blah … and other state of the art equipment
“Setting new records for size of stage, maximum number of camera used for recording, state of the art equipment, largest temporary AC auditorium, etc.”

I have nothing against the guy or his cause or his devotees, but it does make me think…

In advertising you generally devote more copy and ad space to what is important for your target audience or the CEO’s ego. I have seen enough to see that both exist. Case in point “XYZ biscuits now with attractive new packaging”. What have I got to do with packaging. Wouldn’t I put an emphasis on content as long as it is well communicated? That’s all. Do I care if TV covers the event with gazillion gadgets or not. I do concede that I and AC auditorium with adequate seating and a children play area are definitely good thoughts for audience comfort. but records for largest whatever is .......

A jain guru takes offsites abroad, hindu baba has a satsang in a cruise, some set up centers of meditation, one lady gives lipsticks as ‘prasad’, the list goes on… its fun to see the incentives offered for the downs.

I have a general skepticism (healthy I hope) with the rise of right wingers in any form. More and more of them are getting in our lives using new technology, razzle dazzle, new media and top class packaging. They speak the language that common man can understand. Wasn’t that one of the strong points for the spread of Buddhism and Jainism as well?

A new breed of them are emerging as we search for meaning and content in our lives. They preach their wares and create new cults building on old. Some scare some hold out hope, some promise…

Sometimes I want to go myself and see, what in the name of heavens is going on?

infallibility

There is a guy in my office. Ok there are lots of guys in my office but I am talking about this hungry one. ok… there are a lot of guys in my office and they are all equally hungry. This one likes free food like crazy. Ok… I have lots of guys in my office who are all hungry for free food… ok ok….free anything…
So one of them normally lands up on my table waiting to feast on the dark chocolates. I cured him of his transgressions for good this time around.
I knew he was coming in to meet me. So took my brahmastra (read: infallible weapon) and kept it in my hand. As soon as he saw it, he asked for it, I gave it but warned him. He still ate it. he just chomped on the whole bite.. He looked normal at first. I asked him if it was ok. Ya3sure, he replied. Then from normal he started to look macho… I can take it; he seemed to be saying to him self. Then from macho he put on his brave face… and then finally … HE GAVE UP.. aaaghhh… what the hell is this. I need water, water. GIVE ME SOME WATER. I told him that I had warned him… I was safe from that gag.
There, he was cured. He will think twice before he asks for something. Good fun nah…

Oh. You want to know what I gave him. Well he always liked bitter chocolates, so I got him to have the 99% bitter chocolate. (earlier post) He even saw the Lindt emboss on it before eating it and must have mentally salivated before the sensory overload.

the mund avtaar

At our recent vacation to Kochi, one of the places we visited is the guruvaayur temple nearby. As we stared at the line we wondered whether to go in or not. Adding to the confusion was a rule that did not allow us to venture inside in shorts or pants. In fact there was a board outside that prohibited pants, lungis, shirts, baniyans inside the temple. Huh? I wondered if I had strayed by mistake into one of the infamous Goan beaches. We then figured that the rule applied to me. Nopes, I was not supposed to be nude as well. The malu populace defines lungis as the colorful ones. The white ones are called mund. So we bought two at 60 bucks each and tied it around our waist on top of our pants to go in. not that we are too religiously but Jispa was keen to go in. she is always keen and curious and game for anything.
At 60 bucks the mund is quite thin and almost transparent, as you can see in this photo. It’s a good thing that I had shorts inside else … also the shorts help in tucking the dam thing and helping it stay in place. Though a small challenge is to get your cell phone or your wallet which is in your shorts which are under the mund. You have to do without undressing your mund or look like you are going to flash.

This is the one with the t shirt on. The other photo without the tshirt is not uploaded as then this site can be reported for inappropriate content.
It is quite a nice temple inside with people pushing each other to get inside and get a glimpse of the hallowed one. its literally a glimpse with the view through a corridor of door and the closest you get is, my guess, 20 meters. The entrance to the main temple itself is a 3 feet by 5 feet door, with the line pushing to get in. I was letting people go in before me as I just couldn’t bear touching my bare torso with more similarly bare sweaty mallus, till I pushed by the ushers inside. Once we were done with the darshan I could go about my business of admiring the complex. Thanks to my readings of Devdutt Patnaik books I could decipher what was carved and hence explain the same to Jispa. The most famous being the image of Vishnu waking up on his serpent bed with Brahma in the lotus that is coming from his navel.
There are many depictions of this pose with many different variations. Laxmi at side, at his feet, shiva position, the dus avatars at the bottom etc.
I was explaining to Jispa the ten avatars of Vishnu as shown many times in the temples of south. One was specially fascinating for her. The Narshimha half man half lion avatar. She was after me to explain the story to her. I finally got around to narrate it to her today morning.
After a narration like this as is my wont, I told that this is only a belief that people have in their minds. As opposed to reality. Then I asked “Jispa, you know the difference between history and mythology?” “what?” she asked. I repeated “do you know the difference between history and mythology?” She was quite a moment and then she said “Mythology is what you believe and history is what you find out”. I was stunned into silence for a few seconds. I thought a bit and then some more. My 7 year old was right. “you are right, who taught you that?” “My brain” came the reply. “I thought what is same between the two and how they are different and that’s how I came to know.”

OK… OK…

glop

Jispa and her white board have been at it again. Recently she was reading horrible Henry in which the protagonist made some horrible glop. Basically invested something nasty and drank it. Jispa was inspired to do the same and wanted to make glop as well, mixing a lot of ingredients. She even promised to drink it once she made it. I managed to nudge her into making a drinkable glop, with tang, honey, salt sugar as the main ingredients. Nothing glop like about it but it was a gloppy adventure of sorts I guess. Needless to add, she loved her glop. So much so that she wrote the ingredients on the whiteboard but to her chagrin someone erased than. So she wrote them again and this time she wrote a warning note down as well…
Just for the record, after the ingredients it says – I hate it when only you rub it you will be dead by the dangerous doggi!! (so be careful) by :-> jispa. GRRRR!!

In case you are wondering who the doggi is… this link might give you a hint. http://jaimit.blogspot.com/2009/09/angel-angel.html

fun, masti, keedas

Making things fun is the best way to do things… everything must be fun then behaviors can change and positive stuff can be achieved. I have always believed in this. I came across two videos that completely explain my case. This time they have some quantitative stuff to prove it as well. Not that too many people needed it… but you know the way corporate works. They are so anal and so distrustful of everything even if it stares them in the face. We as a corporate are trying a lot for our employees to give more.. my sense was that the reason that people don’t give in their corporate avatars (amongst many others) was that the emotional connect was missing when you give a ‘certain’ portion of your salary for a ‘certain’ cause. Thoda warmth missing hai. This is making me realize that not just warmth but fun is missing.
Looking back… My last great thing was Jispa winning the elocution. She won it because I think she was the kid having the most fun saying the poetry. It was fun for her. We used to irritate jasmine all the time by saying line from the poetry and go completely bananas with the emotions. We didn’t really care winning… of course it was good, but it was FUN and that’s the point.

My team has fun working. Laughter is a must. Play your pranks, take it easy… allow for mistakes and laugh at them. Work will happen if the fun is there. Get those boring baskets out of your life.

Here see these.

I didn’t need the stats to know it works. Of course it does. But then we areteh data speaks the truth types. Aren’t we?

kuch bhi

13 cures to stop hiccups

Solution # 3 get scared silly
Having someone surprise you can overwhelm the vagus nerve and put an end to hiccups.

Oh ok… what a simple solution. I am having hiccups, I go up to my fiend and tell him… dude I am having hiccups… please surprise me.

Huh?

If that’s not enough – here is another one…

Solution # 5 Pull on Your Tongue
Sticking out your tongue and yanking on it may stop hiccups

Kya hai yeh???

but you love me daddy

For the interschool elocution she has to get an inspirational poem, an inspirational story or extract of an inspirational speech. Two minutes long… oh god. For a 7 year old! I can’t think of anything … I always believed that these competitions must allow for humor more than anything else. But now it’s an inspirational talk… I guess it’s not the school’s fault, the organizer must have ordained so. Searching the works of Shel I came across this poem… is it inspirational (I hope so)? The problem is inspirational versus morals… the net has tons of inspirational stuff that’s got God in it. Both Jasmine and I hate having inspirational stuff with the omnipresent hand. You don’t need God to get inspired. Can anyone help me get a cute nice inspirational talk/ poem for a seven year old? Though the school has also promised that if we don’t get it they will give us one. but I still think the lester one would do.

On another note – yesterday we were at a fun and fair organized by the preschool organization that one of Jispa’s friends goes to. It was a nicely done thing, with stalls on various games and activities. Jispa was enjoying on her own, hanging around, trying stuff. She came to me saying she wants coupons. I directed her to Jasmine. I then realized that Jasmine had bought 500 bucks worth of coupons for jispa to enjoy. Wow. 500 bucks. That included everything including food and drink. But I remember going to my school fair and having exactly 20 bucks or 50 bucks of coupons to utilize. I am not arguing for inflation. What I know was that they were definitely not enough to play what ever game I wanted and I had to pick and choose to maximize my fun. I had a clear trade off and marginal utility problem to solve. Jispa just went and played everything that caught her fancy. Now 500 bucks for family fun is not a large budget. Silly movies at a multiplex cost much more. But I didn’t know how to reconcile my need to ensure she has fun without too much chindigiri, while teaching her truth of finite resources. I don’t know…
One stall was a photographer getting you to pose inside a box for interesting angles. Jispa came to me and asked if she could go. I was like “it might be expensive and more so, I am a decent photographer. So why don’t you find out how expensive it might be, then we decide.”. She ran there and came back a minute later, “dad, bad news… it costs 250 rupees”. Happily she ran away. I guess we got the balance right.

We reached home and we got to do some dressing on the boil that’s come up. That’s a second one she’s got back to back. This one needed to be burst open. We take an implement and douse it in Savlon to prick it. Jispa was crying a bit purely on the thought of it. I let her attempt to prick it herself. She realized that her boild was a piece of dead skin with no sensation. She then let me gently prick with and had the puss oozing out. a nice bit of growing up.
While we were squeezing it, Jispa suggested I keep talking to keep her distracted. So I went about talking about… you know…mommy faced a pain that was a hundred thousand times more than what you are facing. This was when she gave birth to you. She held my hand very tight and she was hungry and thirsty but she had to deliver on an empty stomach. But we were there for each other. Etc etc….
She then asked. Why did we decide to have a baby. So that you can have fun the baby? I replied that ‘ much more… we wanted a baby to take care of, we wanted be bring a baby into this world, we wanted to play with it, we wanted a baby so that it would hold my hand and cross the road, …” suddenly she curled her lower lip and cried loudly…. Huh... what happened, did it hurt, did I press to hard. What on earth happened? “No, I am just crying because it’s a very nice story. You said very nice things” she replied. Huh? I and Jasmine just looked at each other. We didn’t know how to react. Jispa is a sensitive kid but I guess the boil hurting and the crying that was already happening did affect her a bit. She said even in school she heard a lovely story that moved her a bit in the western music class. It was this one…

Your five year old face is a dirty disgrace(but you love me Daddy)You scatter your toys and you make too much noise(but you love me Daddy)You know little lad you can be pretty bad(but you love me Daddy)You wake me at dawn when i want to sleep on(but you love me Daddy)Now you eat the cookies when i tell you no(But you love me daddy cause you tell me so)you're so hard to scold cause you're my five year old(and cause you love me Daddy)When i dress you up you go play with the pup(but you love me Daddy)When i use the phone you wont leave me alone(but you love me Daddy)You make sister wail pulling her ponytail (But you love me Daddy)You scratch up the floor and you write on the door(But you love me Daddy)You ask foolish questions now you know thats true(But you love me Daddy and you know you do)Your so hard to scold cause you're my five year old (And cause you love me Daddy)

Yup… I love you, kiddy…

STOP PRESS

Jispa got chosen in her standard to represent the school in inter school elocution competition.

I just lived my childhood dream

thank you Shel, sorry dentist.

??

sleep woes

Its amazing how children and associate problems are the same around the world. We had issues with Jispa coming in to sleep with us all of a sudden some time back. She gets these bursts now and then… for a few weeks she is all ok sleeping alone and then suddenly she comes in every night for a few nights with some excuse or the other. About two weeks back she came in with something and I didn’t even listen to her and just opened the blanket for her to come inside. It’s always me that she targets. She didn’t sleep too well that night. I asked her the reason in the morning and she said that I was constantly moving and that’s the reason she couldn’t sleep. Ten why did she come in to sleep with us, I countered. She said that she just came to tell me something and that I without listening to her just put her to sleep next to me. Oh ok… now it’s my fault. Blame daddy!
But yes, coming back to the ‘same around the world topic’ – I came across some really interesting stuff that really captured what the entire world is facing with young children.
-------------

Accompanying text:
“Next up: a visitor from the kids’ room. They start all sweet and cuddly, but their little bodies become more brazen by the minute.”

This exactly the problem we face with Jispa, she is obviously soft and cuddly to start with and then she stretches open, but in the wrong orientation… then both Jasmine and I get whacked.
-----------

Accompanying text:
“To make things worse, our kids always insist on sleeping ON TOP of our blanket, creating a whole new set of problems”

There has to be some science of kids not feeling as cold as us while asleep. Jispa gets on top of the blanket and then instead of being nice and cuddly warm it gets quite a task to pull out enough blanket to keep you warm.
-------------


Accompanying text:
“After weeks of sweet-talking, serenading and heartbreaking Ferberizing, we think we have reclaimed our bed. Until a short trip or a quick flu undoes everything again.”

Exactly….

john & chai

Whenever I get into Jaihind College to teach, I still behave like a student. I hang around the campus if I am early rather than sitting in the staff room. I still see my teachers there and am unable to sit at ease in front of them. I make a dash for the canteen and hang around there. We still have the waiters from my time there. Thirteen years on and not much seems to have changed. They got new tables and chairs but everything else remains the same. The menu is the same as well.
One of the waiters is Madan. Madan is an interesting character who always will hunker around for a tip. He would take his sweet time returning the change and you had to ask him to give it to you. The other guy Prakash was the sweet heart. I remember him trying to get us a table when the canteen was full. He would make some juniors get up just because Jasmine and I walked in. being the secretary of some club I guess helped. We weren’t goons by any stretch of imagination but the aura surely helped.
These days when I go in to canteen I still enjoy the same chana samosa. Only difference is that I can now afford the same. college life was a lesson in poverty. We always had less money and it was upto Jasmine to finance food, movies, picnics everything. She took tuitions and that was a great help.
This time around I was with a few students who were having chana samosa. The canteen gives a weird looking green chutnee along with some onions. I remember taking a few months of trepidation before I really enjoyed wolfing it down. The students were also not touching it. I said go on have it, I have been eating it since 1991 and I haven’t been worse for it. one of them looked up and said “1991, that was like since… I was born”. Huh. “you guys were born in 1991?” “yup”. Hahahahah… that’s was the year I joined college. Hehehe. I am sooo old!
Prakash these days still gets me a place to sit. I always over tip both, Madan and Prakash. Probably as a guilt alleviation mechanism. Prakash these days is called John by the college, for good reason. He is a big John Abraham fan. John was from my college. He was one batch senior to me and I guess he knew me then, or I knew him them. A lanky guy with arms all over the place and a pimple attack. He always sweet though and had no enemies. A few girls secretly liked him then as well. While no body would have ever predicted a career in movies for him for sure. He definitely had a presence in the college though. Suddenly he burst into modeling and then into movies. He’s done well especially considering I see him as the only non star family heir who has made it in recent memory. Kuduos. Coming back to Prakash. He talks about John being a student of the college all the time. When he served me chana samosa, he said that this was the same chana samosa that john had when he was in college. He keeps taking about John all the time. No wonder the kids call him John and he responds amiably. I guess if I ever came face to face with John, I’ll probably tell him about Prakash and request him to pay Prakash a visit. Not that I am likely to come across John to start with, but I no probs, I have my John and I love him.
Here is a toast to the canteen join. I ordered this as this is something V-inu used to have all the time while in college. I wonder why he couldn’t have normal tea then. But he was evolved as always… He also loved the stuff black with a slice of lime. See I told you he was evolved. I think he had lime more than milk, but still this remains an ode to old time sake. Not anything has changed, not the glass, the steel, the ceramic, nothing… one day I will flick the ensemble and take it home with me. Sitting by the window, watching the monsoon and sipping dip chai with milk.

its really wierd how I get all nostalgic about college. I really came into my own in college... but that is another story...

coming of age

Jispa had a puss boil in her leg and like all puss boils, it got quite painful. Adding to the whole thing was the ayurvedic stuff we generally use. It’s a vicious black paste that brings the puss out. It makes the dam thing throb like crazy. It hurts like hell. Poor thing went all over the place on Tuesday night. She missed school on Wednesday thanks to the bad sleep and the mild fever. Slowly she came to terms with it. She really hated me for pushing the puss out of the boil. It is very painful. But on Friday night she decided that since she has to remove the puss and papa is not the right guy to do it, she will do it herself. Wow... that’s a big one. She actually squeezed the puss out from the boil herself with some egging on from us. She overcame her pain and the grossness. She squeezed out a lot of it… it was in many ways a coming of age, a step in the hero’s journey. If there was proof that our girl was growing up, had grown up… it was there for us to see. On a lark, I shot the thing on the handycam. It was a bit gross to do so but it will be a good coming of age video. Admittedly one cannot expect wholesome family entertainment in that video, hehehe…

An update on her elocution performance – we don’t know… the results are not announced at an individual level. Marks are given and aggregated at a house level with the house being declared winners. Politically correct I guess. But Jispa and I had a truckload of fun preparing for it.. Especially irritating Jasmine by reciting the poem again and again. it is fun reciting it with her.

crossing over to the dark side

I understand dark chocolates. I normally love them and people get for me dark stuff that no one but me can eat. 75% and 80%, but the latest Lindt on my table is something else…. Its 99% dark chocolate. It is so dark that it comes with a disclaimer on the inside packaging… on the golden foil it says…

“EXCELLENCE 99% is a unique chocolate that reveals all the strength and richness of cocoa beans. To fully appreciate all its flavors, we recommend that you progressively develop your palate through our range of high cocoa content chocolate bars, starting with Excellence 70%, then 85% and finally 99%.
The best way to experience ECELLENCE 99% cocoa is to break off a small piece and allow it to melt slowly in your mouth.
To taste the full bouquet of cocoa aromas, try accompanying your tasting with some coffee.

In other words – grow up kid…
It’s a good thing you see the disclaimer only when you tear off the outer pack. You can’t read this stuff and still want to buy the slab, would you?

The dam thing is so dark that while eating it I feel like Lord Voldemort. Uuuuuu. That was a bad joke, please excuse, but I just couldn’t resist. Hehe.

Jispa Speak

Jispa has been chosen for the final day final round in the elocution competition. She is quite an expressive child and this is a perfect outlet for the drama in her. The poem we chose (wrote about it earlier) has enough play for different tones and voices. It will be different from the other poems that go in a monotone… dada dada … dada dada … dada dada da. This will go slow, loud, pause, surprise… I asked her on the phone today if she remembered anyone else’s poem. She said there one poem about the pig by Roald Dahl. Its about a pig with a over sized brain it knew everything but “but in the end One question drove him round the bend: He simply couldn't puzzle out, What LIFE was really all about."
I quickly googled it as i was on the phone and read it out to her. I then asked her… see… how do I know the entire poem. She just spelt out “G…O…O…G…L…E”. hmmm, how did you know that, I asked her. She said that she too has an over sized brain like the piggy in question. Ok … you win.

On Sunday while I was taking a lecture at college, Jispa and Jasmine had planned to come in once they finished at the park. They came in at the last ten minutes of the lecture. I was my usual loud self. Jasmine remarked to Jispa – does your teacher shout like this? After the lecture as we were walking out she asked me in all earnest, “dad, when I go grow will you teach me as well?” “sure, Jispa. I am always teaching you. I am teaching you now as well.” “no, will you teach me these things that you were teaching them.” “of course, I will”. She was happy. “when you are bigger, Jispa, all you have to do is ask”.

Later another thing she told me that “papa, you are less strict than my teacher. In school if anyone talks my teacher makes them stand under the clock.” Heheh. I sure am. I didn’t tell her that if I do that my class will shift to the clock in under five minutes.

hail nation

India sent a mission to the moon - Chandrayaan. One of the payloads it carried was NASA’s Moon Mineralogy Mapper. That tongue twister detected evidence of water. No doubt a significant discovery if we are to make colonize the moon. The times of India was at its euphoric best screaming “One Big step for India, a giant leap for mankind”. The geologist in US who analyzed the data from the NASA probe acknowledged India role. I expect a whole lot of India to get drawn into this euphoria and embrace these findings… I would not be surprised if people make presentations using this as an example of Indian super prowess. Textbooks will be written tom-toming this ‘indian’ achievement. Many people will say that India discovered that moon has water.
I am reminded of a fable I read as a kid. To cut the story short, a unique twist of circumstances ensured that a lame man sits on the shoulders of a blind man who carries him around the world in a symbiotic relationship. They happen to be chosen by the royal elephant as ‘the groom’ for the princess. After they go around the ceremonial fire with the princess, a row erupts between them as to who actually married the princess. A wise sage is called to deliver the verdict. He says that the lame man is husband as the blind man is akin to the horse on which the groom may sit.
While many proud Indians will tell you in quiz that the only Indian to win the Mr. Universe title was Premchand Degra, but not a soul will tell you was the runner up. This is a trick question. There was only one entry in the category he competed.

PS: After I published this post someone sent me a mail to the effect that – our Mr. Degra won the World Amateur Championships (80 kgs) beating other contestants (Todd Roberts came in second) to claim the Mr. World title. I can’t find Mr. Universe on his wikipedia page or any Google searchs though.
But somehow I so clearly remember the Times of India story on the front page – saying he won the Mr. Universe and that there were no other contestants in his category. I remember it as clear as day… I also remember talking about it to my other cousins about the absurdity of the title.

inspiration

Some times, many times one comes across people who are inspirational by who they are and what they do… not by their need to inspire you. It is not set out as an intended consequence of their action. It inspiring to see them working against the odds just to make it work. They could choose not to but they choose to… they choose to see all the shit around them and say.. ok.. lets make this work.

The first one is my teacher from college Prof Hasina. She is associated with the commerce department. Since I keep going to college for teaching I have remained in touch with her. She is now the head of commerce association and I love the way she is pushing the association to do new events and programs. She could have decided not to do it and say commerce is a university course, what could we do? But I love her passion and her commitment to the job and she is ready to make things happen.
Prof Saxena was another such person who ran the BMS course when it was introduced. She made sure it rocked, brought direction, vision and execution to the course. Dynamic. Absolute dynamic.

Over the years I have seen that such teachers are slowly not coming in to teach anymore. I guess they join the corporate world. The new breed of teachers instills no confidence.

Here is another gem of a story of William Kamkwamba who decided against the grain to do something. He started not by trying to inspire but to do something. He dropped out of school due to a failed crop, went to a library and somehow figured out how to make a windmill and made it. Crazy considering he did not really understand the English inside the library books that well. Simple to him. An amazing story for everyone else.
BTW his mom thought he was crazy!
Now queues of people line up outside his home to charge their mobile phones.

Listen to his story; it’s only 5 minutes long…
He wants people to listen to his story on the internet and in his words “trust yourself and belief, whatever happened… don’t give it up”

melamine

In office we have melamine plates to have our food in. Most guys get their dabbas and empty the food in the melamine plates and bowls and heat them in the microwaves.
Now it somehow felt wrong to heat the food in melamine plates. On a lark I googled this stuff and found out that; you cannot heat melamine plates/bowls in a microwave, because that’s where the melamine can break down and leach toxins
Melamine resin is known as a thermoset plastic, because the plastic is fixed after molding. If exposed to enough heat, melamine will decompose. For this reason, melamine dishware should not be exposed to high temperatures like those in the oven and microwave.

Now what to do with the info. Some guy must have ordered the stuff without knowing that this can happen. All he had to do was ask his wife who might have told him that you can’t put the stuff in the micro. But the deed has already been done. So we have the plates. Typically in the office since the deed has been done, admitting ignorance might make you look silly. So you do the next best thing, you cry ‘chicken’. All this is ok in small quantities and it does really matter that much.

I am reminded of something I have blogged about in the past - Hermann Wilhelm Göring –Nazi party Leader. While the statement does not quite match the basic principle is the same. you can always twist it any way you wish. He said - “Oh, that is all well and good, but, voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger”

So I really don’t expect the melamine plates to go away. I don’t expect people to stop using them but I hope people realize the power of google or even common sense. I have seen the pantry guys heating the food to quite a temperature and then picking the plates up with a napkin as the plates got really hot. I have seen them heating rotis on the melamine and having them stuck to the plates. I have seen melamine plates being twisted and distorted due to the heat.

God know what all goes in our stomachs. Many years ago (at least 15 yrs) I had read that an American senator was confronted by some protestors who were against dumping thrash to the third world for recycling, as recycling some of these plastics can cause cancers. He replied that in third world countries it does not matter, as these cancers typically hit after the age of 70 and the life expectancy is lower than that by a margin.

Since corporate male life expectancy is even lower thanks to the entire artery clogging lifestyle, I guess, melamine toxins come way down on the value chain.

Which animal buries its head in the ground? Is it the ostrich?

magical weekened

Watch the movie “UP” for the cutest love story in less than 15 minutes. It’s at the start and it was so beautiful and cute and would make you go… awwwwwwwwwww…
The movie was quite cool with my kid enjoying it. We happened to be in VT area where we had gone to gorge on McDonalds breakfast menu.
The stuff was quite good with the muffin being steamed one! Wonder of wonders. Something at McDonalds is not fried?! I also opted for the hot chocolate and liked that one as well. I guess the coffee and the chocolate are the underrated items on the menu with the burgers and the shakes getting all the attention.
We happened to be at Mc when we were wondering where to take the kids after a morning at the park. We took them to the breach candy park (someone Mahindra garden) early morning yesterday and they enjoyed to their hearts content. Jispa is a natural at all these parks that require what I understand as gross motor skills. She can climb anywhere, everywhere and is one with the boys at all these games. I think she beats them as well. Seeing a boy jump from one of the ropes on the Cororcords Jispa wanted to attempt the same. Jasmine at the start wasn’t too enthused but I saw the jump and gave my go ahead. Woppie… she goes.. bham on the sand she falls. Gets up and tries again.. whoopieee…. I think the height was around ten feet. Awesomeposume. We had gone with a few of her friends and they seemed to be no match for her when it comes to the spirit of adventure. Jasmine fears a broken bone, I guess it’s the cost of growing u, or should I say the rite of growing up. As my dad said looking at Krish Srikkant’s batting – fortune favors the brave.
We went there early morning as the evening before we landed there to see a huge crowd. It still could take loads of kids and still function. I have no complaints on that. It was good fun but I thought it might be nice for Jispa to play with the stuff with a little less crowd. We had gone in with a friend who had come in from Dubai. As soon as he entered the place with his kid he remarked “which country are we in?” he loved the place and more importantly – his 4 year old loved it. On the ropes while he was having eth time of his life, he slipped a bit and caught a very very mild bruise on his forehead. His dad carried him one side and as he came in the poor kid was crying. I took him aside and looked at it – it was nothing… so I told him “hold on… don’t cry .. wait… do you want me to use some magic for your head. It will make it all go away. but you have to stop crying for that.” He looked at him half wondering, half belief and half disbelief. Yup I know that totals upto more than one… you have never seen kid expressions have you? Coming back… he stopped crying a bit. His father and also my wife were wondering what I was upto. Me too. So I just pulled out my wallet and thought I would pull out something.. that’s the only thing I had to pull out. A magician has to pull out something?!? Everyone was looking at me… what would come next. I opened my wallet and I remembered that I had some soap strips hidden away. I showed it to the boy, tore a small part of the soap strip and told him “see this magic paper, I ill put it on your head and the pain will all go away… see…” I stuck the dam thing on his forehead. “has it gone away?”. He nodded… good.. Keep it one for sometime. His father remarked that it was lucky I had some magic strip on me. Yup… I was lucky as well. As long the magic works it’s wonderful… this thing … magic….

Here are a few images from the fun

Pretty self explanatory

I taught her that move. Cool nah! it was my signature move. I also taught her the flip.
X marks the spot from she jumps. If you think thats not high.. try it.

The magic paper in action ... keep it handy. It works.

This one is cute…. It made entirely of tires.. look closely.

wake up jis

Wakening up on your own is a coming of age ritual. Something I am trying to find a balance with for Jispa. How do you wake up a 7 year old for school? Especially in the winter. This happens every year when the sun is in its southern sojourn. As winter solstice returns and the mornings are darker than before Jispa opens her eyes and asks irritatingly / angrily, why did you wake me up so early. Two years back it was difficult to make her understand, but its improved then on. last year I taught her the solstices and today it came to my aid. I told her… its winter now, you remember the winter solstice, nah? … huhhh… yaaa… hmmmm… ok. Then please wake up it is 6:15.
Yesterday much as I am at loathe to give it up I finally did (I think). I pulled my muscle back a bit while lifting her after the shower. So now on she is on her own after she wakes up. My job ends after wake up time.
I remember my growing up moment when I first used an alarm clock to wake me up. I remember it very clearly. I must have been 7th or 8th standard. My marathi tuition teacher had called us for extra class at 7 in the morning and I had to wake up at 6. I told mom and dad to set an alarm for me so that I can get up on my own. While mom gave me an alarm clock set to 7. Dad told me another trick. He said to bang my head on the pillow as many times as the time I wanted to wake up. I looked at him in disbelief. He said it works try it. so I banged my head on the pillow 7 times and went to sleep. Warning: children if you re reading this: do not try this at home without adult supervision.
Well I did wake up on time but the story is not about waking up. Thanks to all the excitement of growing up and the fear associated with missing the alarm I got some really horrible sleep. I kept waking up all through the night, checking the time and going back. It was a bad night that ended in relief when the alarm actually rang.
I have gone on to miss many alarms then on and catch many as well. Poor Jasmine who have to wait at the station for me early in the morning while I happily slept through the alarm. Snooze was not a popular feature on the alarms I had then I guess. I remember hearing the phone ring… oh shit… its Jasmine. This was the family land line days and not individual cell phones…get up.. rush.. Wait jasmine. I will leave now. I remember brushing, bathing, getting ready and reaching Kings Circle station in 15 minutes flat. That was fast. I used to run full speed to the station and catch the next train itself. Wow. I could run in those days. This was peak NCC days where I could just run like hell everywhere and anywhere and for whatever the distance. I practically invented parkour. Jumping over obstacles, across over bridges, across roads, vendors whatever. (kids: please read warning again). I loved running.
Jasmine even gave me an alarm clock that looked like a monkey playing the drums for a birthday. She really tried hard.