I dont know how to title this one. any suggestions?

There are some days when the mind goes completely blank. You hit a writer’s block. Nothing you can thin of is worth writing. Right now the situation is specially so because of the work pressure. I just can’t find time enough o think or write or anything else. My poor google RSS feeds remain unread. It’s probably a bad thing.
I haven’t had the time to get my routine back into place. I sleep late, I wake up late, I bunk doing yoga, I bunk my swimming. The works… I hate it, messing up with my routine. The only solace that I can find is that at night I have a good book to read me to sleep. I am reading the autobiography of Malcolm X. So far it has been an interesting read. I am dying to comment on it but am withholding my two bit till I finish reading the book.
But yes the routine. i really like being in the routine. I love the yoga and the swimming. Jispa’s vacations are on and in that is the absence of a catalyst. So when I say with some pride that I swim regularly I must be quick to add that it is thanks to Jispa’s school that this is happening. But since I believe that this rigour is thanks to my dedication, I must be able to keep up with it while I don’t have an external stimulus.
Pride is a funny thing. The above para is nothing but an interpretation of my pride. My pride that I am fit, that I don’t have a pot belly, that I can do uncomfortable things and be happy about it. Right now the work is tough and demanding. I have been put ina situation where I have to set up the marketing for a firm that lost its marketing guy. So doing it all alone without anyone to assist me is a challenge in itself. That is creating new sets of motivation. I have always taken pride in telling people that ‘if you can’t do it, then I will’. I have that streak. Of late being the senior boss has ensured that I have always had some junior resources working in for me. This new project is making work as if I am the junior guy. AND I AM ENJOYING IT. It is give me a fresh sense of pride. Going home since two days at 8 – 9 pm, while sitting in the car, I think about the day gone by… and breathe with certain pride. I can still tell my kids with confidence that if you can’t do it then let me know. I will do it and close the issue. So screw you.
You can say it all the time but when you have recent experience to do it then it carries much more wiethg. Pride is a silly thing really. Some days I think it’s probably a wrong thing. Should I have this pride at all? Should I be a humble stone on the wayside? Why should it affect?
Difficult questions to which I guess the only answer I know of now is - moderation. Everything in moderation. Including moderation itself.
Wasn’t this a bit weird post. But then I think that what happens to most posts. They tend to reflect the mind. Right now the mental state is slightly convoluted. There are various emotions.
I think these two months my mind has been thinking a lot and has been forming opinions and thoughts. I think a few years hence I will look on this period with reasonable amount of significance. Hopefully for the better. I hope I don’t self destruct while clearing my mind. I hope I don’t harm my self and those around me. I hope I am able to chart out a path that ensures the best overall result. In this also lies a complexion. Should I do what is right for the long run or should I do for the short run. I know I have responsibility towards my decisions towards me but what about decisions that affect those around me? am I being right in setting fire on their path in the hope that they will face the heat and be better for it or should I just let their present be and take let the future take care of itself? What gives the great moral authority to play god with other people. And also do I fail if set them up for failure.
See I told you I was in a weird mood. But I have come to look at both sides of the equation a lot. Nothing seems to be swaying me strongly either way. I merely see both sides and be happy that I can see both the side of relative truth.
As I have always maintained as long it does not stop you from acting. It does not paralyse you its ok. But then what sarong with paralysis… arggghhhh stop that. Stop it. This post is getting too weird.

What was that poem that popped into my head ten seconds ago? Something like let tehfuture take care of itself, let the past bury its dead… or something like that. lets ask Google. A ha. There it is.
"Trust no future, however pleasant! Let the dead past bury its dead! Act, - act in the living Present! Heart within and God overhead." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I guess that’s a good philosophy. Those lines right now seem reassuring. For reason they warm my heart. Hope they did something for you… but then again. SLAP. STOP.

jispa meets gandhi

We went to join the family gingbang in Ahmedabad to be a part of the surprise 25th year anniversary. The cousins there are fairly sweet. He is my first cousin and the 25th anniversary celebration would give you an idea onto the wide age disparity between cousins.
This was on my dad’s side of the family. Here I am the youngest son of the youngest brother. Hence I am the baby of that side. In many ways I am treated by some of my brothers in that respect. At 35 I get my ears pulled. Literally :D. It is quite a nice feeling. It was also a chance to experience Ahmedabad and used the free time before and after the party to catch up on stuff.
One point on our agenda was the Sabarmati ashram there. It is a beautifully serene and calm place. The vibes there were very calming. One can only imagine what it could have been like 60 to 70 years ago. I liked the smallish memorial that explains Gandhi’s stand on various issues and charts out some of his actions. Also I could not visualise without Richard Attenborough’s movie coming into my head. It did well to help me visualise the scale of his actions. Here is Jispa in front of one of the exhibits.

It is an icon by itself. I think the handwriting is an integral part of making this iconic.
While the section was informative on Gandhi’s life I think it misses a lot by being merely a poster exhibition. There is little else to make the place come alive. it seems there is a sound a light show in the vening but we did not inquire about too much as we had the party to attend in the evening. Also I guess Gandhi as a man had little to own and hence there would be very little to exhibit, at least as afar as personal artefacts go. There were replicas of many letters that he wrote and received and prints of the same, but I guess seeing the real thing beats having to see a replica. Jispa kept asking “is this the real thing’ and we had to keep saying it is the replica. I don’t what we humans have for it but I do enjoy seeing something very real as opposed to the pictures.
Like the Delhi museum showing what is believed to be the actual remains of the Buddha. On my god. I went crazy seeing them. I couldn’t believe that we have the actual fragments of the Budhha himself. It made the Buddha come alive to my mind. From being a part of mythology there is suddenly flesh and blood to my vision of him. And I was within 10 inches of them.

There in similar vein, I was also very happy that they had not completely cordoned off the hut (above pic) in which he stayed but actually had it open to all visitors to come in and experience it for himself. It felt great to be in a place where the man him self had been / lived. These things make the legend in our minds come alive. I was happy to take Jispa there. I guess it would have made it come alive for her as well.

The big let down was the souvenir store. Yup, they have a store there. It sells prints of old photos, wooden charkhas, all possible books and some pens and badges etc. there was nothing that could be a modern interpretation of Gandhi. Something that someone younger would actually buy to keep the image alive. Also nothing to wear. Not even a khadi kurta. The books were also arranged so shabbily and displayed with poor light and shelves. It made for poor browsing and poor experience. Next door was a library in even worse shape. With dusty interiors, bad lighting and cobwebs that too did not inspire any confidence. While some of the exhibits were smart and interesting enough to explain Gandhi, there was nothing to interpret him in today’s life. Hence no matter what any one says, lage raho munnbhai must be lauded for its attempt. A simple zone where Jispa would have access to movie clippings, possibly cartoons, drawings etc… that would have created a lasting impact in her mind. A simple concept like untouchability was something I found difficult to explain to her. It was written in depth on the exhibits and the complexities that Gandhi faced were also explained but explaining that to an 8 year old was pretty tough. What does it mean? How did he fight it? What were the repercussions? I think I tried my best. Years of talking to Jispa as an adult have borne fruit. She can understand complex stuff that I try and explain to her as plain as possible without talking down. She is also quite comfortable in a museum and knows how to entertain herself in it. But a little help, possibly at worst an audio tour would help tremendously. And why can’t we design audio tours for kids. Punch in your age as well before proceeding and you get the right thing for you. Why don’t we do this?
I tired my best on Saturday. I hope it brought it alive for her.
As a closing note I leave this for you – said of Gandhi by another legend himself.

STOP

I just don’t understand. We first believe that we must have art, then we create some kind of art and then we barricade all access to it and expect people to interact with it. Or is it rather; appreciate it but do not interact with it. This is a slightly old one. This is at the IMAX theatre at wadala. They had put this up on green day to spread a ‘green’ message. The tree is still around. I thought the tree was nice till it started obstructing me. Somehow the fact that I can’t do anything with it rankles me. They should get rid of the barricade around it and let people take photos with it. In fact some enterprising ones went under the barricade and got their friends to click the photos of themselves with it. They were doing it surreptitiously and keeping an eye out for the authorities. Wouldn’t the message be better served if they simply allowed all access? This is the same problem I see in al street sculptures or gardens or anything. We just put large cordons around everything and then hire a guard to keep people off the place. Today’s newspapers report that people are even keeping cameras to keep an eye on public places.

STOP IT. STOP THAT. DON’T GO THERE. YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE. YOU ARE A NUISANCE.

grow up

I don’t what it is like now but small boys in my time had pretty simple ambitions when they grew up. Some wanted to be fire engine drivers or train engine drivers and then they quickly grew up to want to be doctors, engineers, army men and the lot. Standard professions to want to be in. not to much to write home about. I was always a patriotic buff and wanted to be in the army. That was it for me. It lasted till I was 21 for me. I had even joined the NCC in college. The national cadet corps was the perfect stepping stone for my desired career. Though I was always the thin sickly kid in college and I never knew how someone like me would ever pass the tough admission tests. I guess that lasted till I got my MBA admissions and Jasmine’s desire. While I think she still does not like to believe it was her but I remember clearly the moment when I decided to go for the MBA. I guess it was better in the end. I might be too much of a non conformist to succeed in the armed forces. I might have been kicked right out. Or possibly never selected. You never know. My NCC was in the Air Force wing so I might have been flying one of these flying coffins as well. So I guess my immature patriotism probably never managed to convert itself into a profession.
This vacation I had a chance to remember my dream job. The taxis in the mountains were always a sure fire way to puke. In fact any vehicle in the mountains would result in puking bouts. As a kid I was always plagued by morning sickness. In the vacations we would drive in the morning only to find me puking my breakfast. As I grew older I managed to only puke on curving roads. And this was anytime during the day, not restricted to mornings. It was a gut wrenching experience. You first puke your food and the next time you still puke but as since there is nothing left in the stomach you puke air. It is a bad thing. I used to be miserable and I remember my dad telling me that there is no hope for you as an armed forces career if you can handle this. I was so pissed at him for this. That was no way to treat my dream. That was insensitive.
The last vacation, last year, in the mountains we had taken a vacation wherein we travelled by road but this around we had hired small cars like the wagon R, Alto and the van. Sitting in front in these petrol run cars with a low clearance seemed to have a positive effect. I managed without a single throw up. That was a revelation. I finally figured what happens. I need a small car (less movement) with a low ground clearance and it must be petrol. The diesel fumes also create huge issues as subsequent travels in a jeep result in near vomit situations. The issue is also that in the mountains the un burnt diesel from your car or even from a car travelling in front of you is enough to give me the reaction. This time in a much smarter move we took a smaller car (Indica) though it being diesel run, we opted for the air conditioned version. That substantially cut the heat, noise, dust and diesel fumes and it resulted in a puke free trip. I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t a simple thing like curvy roads that get my goose. It a complex combination of many factors. I could have made it in the Armed forces after all. Hehe.
But on inane ambitions like fire engine drivers; I saw this man outside my office window the other day. I guess this is a profession that I might find interesting. I have always found the guys who wash windows interesting. The fun of getting squeaky clean windows added to the thrill of getting to hang from the ledge and cleaning windows from the outside makes for a lovely profession. I am pretty enamoured by it.

comfort

Jispa can read anywhere everywhere and in every pose possible. Challenge you to read like this, for an extended period, and… mind it… and be quite comfortable about it.
Clicked at Delhi airport.


Also at Delhi airport – Jispa then found an easier way to be comfortable.

har har gange

We are just back from a trip to the holy mountains. The Himalayas. To get to the Garwhal part of eth Himalayas we pass though our favourite town, Rishikesh. We don’t stay at Rishikesh proper but we stay close to Laxman Jhulla. That is as far as you can get from the proper town, but in the heart of the tourist circuit.
When you are there do visit the lovely Devraj coffee corner aka German bakery and have pizzas, pancakes, lemon mint tea and almond triangles. I got enough of the latter for office for people to wonder what on earth it was. It is some sweet almond paste on a pie crust. It’s quite amazing and tastes quite divine in contrary to its humble earthy name. Go ahead when you are in that part of the world.
But that is metaphorically divine, what we got that is really divine is ‘ganga jal’. Water from the sacred river – Ganga (ganges). We took bottles and filled them with water from the river. We got for the lady who comes home in the evening to help with the household chores. We had got one bottle for her the last time we were there and this time Jasmine insisted on getting one more. I really did not see the point but went along.
Yesterday after we arrived our lady; her name is Devki, was happy to see the Ganga jal. I asked her why would she need one bottle of it and how does she plan to use it?
She said that in her hut/slum colony (jhopadpatti) people keep coming to ask for a little Ganga jal. She asks them for a glass of water in which she mixes one capful of Ganga jal. That’s it. Only one capful. And she never lets anyone else touch the bottle. It is a precious resource not to be squandered away. But what is used for? Oh… people come all the time to her for it. When someone is dying, they make the person drink it so that the passage is smooth. Or when she is feeling unwell she mixes it with a glass full of water, or for other occasions. But yes it is a prized resource.
I felt bad getting only a bottle full. If I had known I would have ditched the almond tarts and gotten another bottle full.
Devki told us thatshe was illiterate and that she uses ganga jal for everything as that is what she has been told is good. She can’t read and hence she listens to what she has been told. I told her that while we read a lot we still are at the mercy of what people tell us. We also don’t know for sure. We also plainly do what is told. To my mind – what works for you is medicine and what doesn’t is not. I had a tonsil issue that refused to go away in my teens. Till I took a long homeopathy course. It worked enough for me never to get it back again in all its fury. Probably it was that or probably there were external factors at work. No one knows for sure, do they? Read this article on homeopathy by one blogger I follow regularly. http://girishshahane.blogspot.com/2010/06/which-is-witch.html. All I say is that standing face to face with Devki I am not prepared to say that she is wrong and that I am right.
Now I know why Jasmine made me fill two more bottles. One friend of ours has two servants and last time Jasmine got only one bottle. It had resulted in a near fight situation. It’s a good thing I listen to Jasmine. She obviously knows best.

what paradox?

I keep using this phrase many times to explain how simple thinking can make a big impact. Many times my colleagues ask me for gyan or some books. And in the event that I need to recommend a simple book, I explain ‘this is really quite straight or simple or logical. My wife understands this.’
It sounds derogatory but it isn’t meant to be. Its equivalent of my grandmother can run faster than that. It is the equivalent of - my wife is a house wife and you guys are supposedly smarter and more exposed while working but you are unable to think clearly. My wife is able to think better and clear.
Jasmine is a clear thinker with an unmuddled mind. It’s surprising how she refuses to see the possibilities in the choice offered. Sometimes it can drive me up the wall as I tend to create tree structures in my mind while she simply sees it as one road. But I learn from her to keep things simple and straight.
One interesting piece was when I was explaining the book Logicomix (link) to someone. It’s a graphic novel that tackles a seemingly infinite and complex subject. My colleague asked me if it was really that simple. The inference being, that me a different being, can common people understand it. I said ‘my wife understood the Russell paradox thanks to the book.’ In such situations since my wife would share most of my life experiences she tends to be the comparison point if I am removed from the equation.
But the book is that lovely. It helped me understand to whatever level possible, some depths of math. And I loved the Russell Paradox. To prove the books superiority I sent the wiki paragraph about it to the colleague and said, my wife now understands this thanks to Logiocomix. Here is the para reproduced for your interest. If you believe (or don’t believe) that something as complex as this can (or cant) be explained in a simple manner - then please buy the book. I loved the book. And yes, Jasmine loved it as well.

“It might be assumed that, for any formal criterion, a set exists whose members are those objects (and only those objects) that satisfy the criterion; but this assumption is disproved by a set containing exactly the sets that are not members of themselves. If such a set qualifies as a member of itself, it would contradict its own definition as a set containing sets that are not members of themselves. On the other hand, if such a set is not a member of itself, it would qualify as a member of itself by the same definition. This contradiction is Russell's paradox.”

the gist is simple explained as - if it does... it doesnt and if it doesnt then it does.

genuinely sorry

As with parenting so with life:
End para of an interesting interview with the author Kathryn Schulz ;
“Finally, and even more problematically, jeering at admissions of error violates humanity’s most basic and broadly shared ethical precept – the one that calls on us to treat others as we ourselves would like to be treated. It’s comforting to imagine that only horrible people make horrible mistakes, but it is simply not true. Plenty of honest, thoughtful, intelligent and well-intentioned people have blundered into massive and costly mistakes. Maybe you are one of them. Or maybe, one day, you will be. Ask yourself: if that happened, would you stand up and say, “I was wrong”? And if so, in the fearsome moment that followed, what would you hope to hear?”
Nice one. Always difficult to implement. If saying sorry was difficult, being nice to a person who said so is even more so. Especially in a moment of strength.
Another excerpt:
“Witness, for instance, the difficulty with which even the well-mannered among us stifle the urge to say “I told you so.” The brilliance of this phrase (or its odiousness, depending on whether you are the one saying it or hearing it) derives from its admirably compact way of pointing out that 1) I was right; 2) you were wrong; and 3) I was right that you were wrong.”
Always difficult. I thought being less angry with Jispa when she says sorry should be enough. I guess it solves half the issue.
The other BIG issue I have is how much to get angry, if at all, if she owns up to something. Basically, what to do with situations in which if she hadn’t told us then we wouldn’t know? And after she did tell us, how much to scold or get angry or even act disappointed for something you might have not even known if not for her telling you. If you don’t show your disappointment then you end up sending the wrong signal that it is allowed, as long as you own up. It’s a balance that we seek to get right almost everyday. Of course the rule is always be less angry if someone owns up or says sorry. The trick also being that she must feel genuinely sorry and want to change and just merely apologise to get off the stick.
I think it’s the importance of Hansei in Kaizen. Here I have blogged about it in the past http://jaimit.blogspot.com/2009/08/make-cars-to-improve-life.html.
Again the difficult part of it being when is it actually deep introspection and when it is superficial.

lucky boy

This post comes as an interesting follow up to the last post. I have always believed that a good last performance is just that, a good last performance. There is no reason t0 believe that the streak will continue. You have to work hard and push for it at all times.

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/ulterior-motives/201006/when-will-streak-end
“Eugene Caruso, Adam Waytz, and Nicholas Epley looked at this issue in a 2010 paper in the journal Cognition. They find that you are most likely to assume that a streak will continue (the hot hand) when the cause of the streak is seen to be someone's intentions. You believe the basketball player will keep hitting shots, because he intends to make the shots.
When the streak is caused by some kind of mechanical device, then people believe the streak will end (the gambler's fallacy). The roulette wheel is a mechanical device that does not intend for the ball to land on either black or red numbers.”

While it is an interesting and erudite study, what set me thinking is the effect on our thinking given our tendency for anthropomorphism. That is giving inanimate objects human traits and mental characteristics. This seems to affect us more than what we think.

I guess all this while I assumed I was being clever while giving life to so many objects. We talk of many things as if they were living creatures. Like many Parsis will tell you that you must name your car if you want it to run smoothly. Of course here naming your car or your cricket bat will only ensure you feel more for it and that you will treat it a bit better. You might think a bit more before you run it over a ditch or you throw it around after you get out on a duck. These might actually nudge you into taing better care of your stuff and it will only come back to your advantage. But on the other hand, companies… sigh… giving companies (yes your job included) people like qualities misleads you into thinking that they are real. I have always told people don’t love your job, you might then expect it to love you back. A sure fire recipe for disaster. But I guess thinking of it as a person we might expect it to behave in a pattern and we might be blindsided to the randomness associated with an inanimate object.
As this author says at the end “At times, it may make sense to treat a company like a person. Companies have managers who make decisions and these decisions may properly be cast as intentions for the strategy that will be followed in the future. At other times, though, this language may get in the way. There is a tremendous amount of randomness in the stock market. When we talk about it in human terms, we gloss over all of that randomness.
In the end, we should try to be a bit more mindful about when we assume that streaks are the results of an agent's intentions.”

Small note: the other day Jasmine was telling Jispa not to sit on her raquet while playing badminton. I explained to her that you must treat your sports equipment with respect. They give you pleasure and you rely on it to play well. You must always treat it with kind affection and never mistreat it. I firmly believe that. There is discipline required in sports and taking care of your equipment is an essential ritual of this discipline. I guess we never had rich access to all sorts of hep equipment and the fact that you must take care of what you have is something has gotten ingrained in my system. Jispa is obviously mush better off but a discipline on the ground will go a long way for sure.

Over a period of time I have tried clearing my mind of all the illogical processes that might have crept inside. Removing it of all superstition. Be it praying for an occurrence or playing the bhajans (prayers) the first thing when I start the car. Slowly but surely I might dare say I am 98% cleared. Touch wood. God willing the rest 2% might go or they might stay to keep my sanity in face of unpredictability.

Yesterday we shifted to the second floor. I had to choose my seating from four seats. I hate this. I prefer someone making the choice for me. I don’t want to choose an unlucky seat. But this time I had the choice, which I did not really want. One lady told me to take a particular seat. You must face north or something like that. I was tempted to go with the choice. But it took some amount of resolve for me to think clearly. These guys had converted two cabins into four cubicles. They basically removed the doors of the cabins, left the glass wall on the one side (too expensive to remove) and added the extra desk. Thinking logically, I choose the brighter cabin, the bigger desk and the place which might allow me to put an extra chair for people who might be required to come and discuss stuff with me.
Here it is. Since the next person who is to share the space with me isn’t around yet (not yet hired) as of now I am getting used to a large space all to myself.
Here it is!

how many sigmas?

Last week the tiffinwala, - the fabled buys with 6 sigma accuracy, the guys who got a whole lot of media coverage, who got visited by Prince Charles, the guys who were invited for his second wedding, the guys whom Harvard business school students studied etc etc… yes those very same guys, famous around the world for their accuracy, the guys who tirelessly collect your food from home and bring it to your office everyday in a tiffin with unequalled accuracy using a method of codes on the tiffin, those very same famous tifffin walas also called the dabbawala of Mumbai, those guys last week ….. misplaced by dabba (tiffin). They put it somewhere else. They managed to trace it back and then they handed it over to us the next day. A ha. Six sigma accuracy is only 99.99966% accurate. I understand, but interestingly this has happened to me the second time in the last two months. Hah!
I guess the 0.00044% hit me twice in a row. How bad is that? Was I at my unluckiest best, or should I day unluckiest worst!? Now there are two ways to look at it. I might have been the unluckiest person to get it twice but I might be very lucky that all my bad luck got exhausted on the humble tiffin. Imagine being hit by that kind of bad luck on the road.
Like I always say when we are doing events or even while doing routine work. Never keep your eye off the ball. A 1% probability does not mean that you won’t be hit 99 times. You could get at the first instance. And after getting hit it does not mean that you cat get hit for another 99 instances. You could just as well be hit again, and again and again. Probability does mean for shit. You always have to keep your eye on the ball and be prepared.
So what’s the bigger problem? Those with a higher probability of occurrence or those with a lower probability of occurrence? That’s an eternal question. The Higher ones are easier to deal with. Since they have higher probabilities, they tend to be managed and you can be prepared for them. The lower ones are the ones that will catch you unprepared. If you think enough, the higher probabilities can be sufficiently thwarted, like building a roof over a reception area in the monsoon. But you would typically not plan for one during winter in Mumbai. You only need to plan well enough and quip yourself with adequate knowledge of all around you.
Over a period of time you negate the higher ones and keep your eyes out for the lower ones. You keep thinking, anticipating and looking for ways in which things can go wrong. You buy insurance against some stuff, you equip yourself for some and for some you merely think through. The last ones left are the unforeseen ones. If you are aware enough and you have had enough exposure, you should be pretty cool. Akin to the simple process of remembering where the exit or reading through the escape plan that’s at the back of hotel doors.
Shit always happens. It will come at you and you can’t really anticipate it but, if you keep your eyes and ears open and keep your observations sharp, you should be ok most of the time. I assume at least 99.99966% of the time.

So that day I had to eat outside. My friend took me to this really cheap place where I had this amazing meal. It was really cheap and the meal was very filling. It was a limited thali, only a limited amount of food is served. The price? 25 rupees. About half a dollar. It included… here.. have a look at it. The bowl of rice follows later.

My wife remarked that at 25 bucks a day and 5 days a week, it’s cheaper for me to eat outside than to have the dabbawala who charges 550 bucks for the delivery alone.

please explain

while reading stuff I came across the word : endogeneity. As I attempt to understadn it further I get more confused. Here is what Wikipedia has to say about it.
I still didnt understand it.

In an economic model, a parameter or variable is said to be endogenous when there is a correlation between the parameter or variable and the error term. Endogeneity can arise as a result of measurement error, autoregression with autocorrelated errors, simultaneity, omitted variables, and sample selection errors. Broadly, a loop of causality between the independent and dependent variables of a model leads to endogeneity.
For example, in a simple supply and demand model, when predicting the quantity demanded in equilibrium, the price is endogenous because producers change their price in response to demand and consumers change their demand in response to price. In this case, the price variable is said to have total endogeneity once the demand and supply curves are known. In contrast, a change in consumer tastes or preferences would be an exogenous change on the demand curve.

my hero

Oh my god. I can’t believe this guy. He is my hero. My idol everything that I strive to be. This man is the mayor of Bogotá and is using absolute crazy ideas to straighten the city. He is unbelievable. It can’t exist.
Using mimes to control traffic violations! Using optional taxes? Women’s night out?

This article is so wonderful that I have taken the liberty to cut and paste it on my blog. I normally only give a link and let the reader hit that site, but for this one I am taking no chances.

Ideally please read it at this link (http://www.news.harvard.edu/gazette/2004/03.11/01-mockus.html) as you have the benefits of photos along side as well.
The piece here I have just copied purely for record. So that in case they remove it or get rid of it or whatever, I still have it. Blogspot permitting. :)

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Academic turns city into a social experiment
Mayor Mockus of Bogotá and his spectacularly applied theory
By María Cristina Caballero Special to the Harvard News Office
Antanas Mockus had just resigned from the top job of Colombian National University. A mathematician and philosopher, Mockus looked around for another big challenge and found it: to be in charge of, as he describes it, "a 6.5 million person classroom."
Mockus, who had no political experience, ran for mayor of Bogotá; he was successful mainly because people in Colombia's capital city saw him as an honest guy. With an educator's inventiveness, Mockus turned Bogotá into a social experiment just as the city was choked with violence, lawless traffic, corruption, and gangs of street children who mugged and stole. It was a city perceived by some to be on the verge of chaos.
People were desperate for a change, for a moral leader of some sort. The eccentric Mockus, who communicates through symbols, humor, and metaphors, filled the role. When many hated the disordered and disorderly city of Bogotá, he wore a Superman costume and acted as a superhero called "Supercitizen." People laughed at Mockus' antics, but the laughter began to break the ice of their extreme skepticism.
Mockus, who finished his second term as mayor this past January, recently came to Harvard for two weeks as a visiting fellow at the Kennedy School's Institute of Politics to share lessons about civic engagement with students and faculty.
"We found Mayor Mockus' presentation intensely interesting," said Adams Professor Jane Mansbidge of the Kennedy School, who invited Mockus to speak in her "Democracy From Theory to Practice" class. "Our reading had focused on the standard material incentive-based systems for reducing corruption. He focused on changing hearts and minds - not through preaching but through artistically creative strategies that employed the power of individual and community disapproval. He also spoke openly, with a lovely partial self-mockery, of his own failings, not suggesting that he was more moral than anyone else. His presentation made it clear that the most effective campaigns combine material incentives with normative change and participatory stakeholding. He is a most engaging, almost pixieish math professor, not a stuffy 'mayor' at all. The students were enchanted, as was I."
A theatrical teacher
The slim, bearded, 51-year-old former mayor explained himself thus: "What really moves me to do things that other people consider original is my passion to teach." He has long been known for theatrical displays to gain people's attention and, then, to make them think.
Mockus, the only son of a Lithuanian artist, burst onto the Colombian political scene in 1993 when, faced with a rowdy auditorium of the school of arts' students, he dropped his pants and mooned them to gain quiet. The gesture, he said at the time, should be understood "as a part of the resources which an artist can use." He resigned as rector, the top job of Colombian National University, and soon decided to run for mayor.
The fact that he was seen as an unusual leader gave the new mayor the opportunity to try extraordinary things, such as hiring 420 mimes to control traffic in Bogotá's chaotic and dangerous streets. He launched a "Night for Women" and asked the city's men to stay home in the evening and care for the children; 700,000 women went out on the first of three nights that Mockus dedicated to them.
When there was a water shortage, Mockus appeared on TV programs taking a shower and turning off the water as he soaped, asking his fellow citizens to do the same. In just two months people were using 14 percent less water, a savings that increased when people realized how much money they were also saving because of economic incentives approved by Mockus; water use is now 40 percent less than before the shortage.
"The distribution of knowledge is the key contemporary task," Mockus said. "Knowledge empowers people. If people know the rules, and are sensitized by art, humor, and creativity, they are much more likely to accept change."
Mockus taught vivid lessons with these tools. One time, he asked citizens to put their power to use with 350,000 "thumbs-up" and "thumbs-down" cards that his office distributed to the populace. The cards were meant to approve or disapprove of other citizens' behavior; it was a device that many people actively - and peacefully - used in the streets.
He also asked people to pay 10 percent extra in voluntary taxes. To the surprise of many, 63,000 people voluntarily paid the extra taxes. A dramatic indicator of the shift in the attitude of "Bogotanos" during Mockus' tenure is that, in 2002, the city collected more than three times the revenues it had garnered in 1990.
Another Mockus inspiration was to ask people to call his office if they found a kind and honest taxi driver; 150 people called and the mayor organized a meeting with all those good taxi drivers, who advised him about how to improve the behavior of mean taxi drivers. The good taxi drivers were named "Knights of the Zebra," a club supported by the mayor's office.
Yet Mockus doesn't like to be called a leader. "There is a tendency to be dependent on individual leaders," he said. "To me, it is important to develop collective leadership. I don't like to get credit for all that we achieved. Millions of people contributed to the results that we achieved ... I like more egalitarian relationships. I especially like to orient people to learn."
Taking a moral stand
Still, there were times when Mockus felt he needed to impose his will, such as when he launched the "Carrot Law," demanding that every bar and entertainment place close at 1 a.m. with the goal of diminishing drinking and violence.
Most important to Mockus was his campaign about the importance and sacredness of life. "In a society where human life has lost value," he said, "there cannot be another priority than re-establishing respect for life as the main right and duty of citizens." Mockus sees the reduction of homicides from 80 per 100,000 inhabitants in 1993 to 22 per 100,000 inhabitants in 2003 as a major achievement, noting also that traffic fatalities dropped by more than half in the same time period, from an average of 1,300 per year to about 600. Contributing to this success was the mayor's inspired decision to paint stars on the spots where pedestrians (1,500 of them) had been killed in traffic accidents.
"Saving a single life justifies the effort," Mockus said.
The former mayor had to address many fronts simultaneously. In his struggle against corruption, he closed down the transit police because many of those 2,000 members were notoriously bribable.
Mockus was a constant presence in the media, promoting his civic campaigns. "My messages about the importance of protecting children from being burned with fireworks, protecting children from domestic violence, and the sacredness of life reached many, including the children," he said.
Once the mother of a 3-year-old girl called his office to say that meeting Mockus was her daughter's only birthday wish.
But the meeting also revealed, said Mockus, that Colombian society has a long way to go. During the visit, the mother told him: "When I am going to hit her, she runs to the telephone and says that she is going to call Mockus. She doesn't even know how to dial a number, but obviously she thinks that you would protect her." Mockus, who has two daughters himself, was shocked at the woman's nonchalance about striking her daughter.
Women's night and mimes
There is almost always a civics lesson behind Mockus' antics. Florence Thomas, a feminist and a professor at Colombian National University, pointed out to Mockus that in Bogotá women were afraid to go out at night. "At that time, we were also looking for what would be the best image of a safe city, and I realized that if you see streets with many women you feel safer," Mockus explained.

So he asked men to stay home and suggested that both sexes should take advantage of the "Night for Women" to reflect on women's role in society. About 700,000 women went out, flocking to free, open-air concerts. They flooded into bars that offered women-only drink specials and strolled down a central boulevard that had been converted into a pedestrian zone.
To avoid legal challenges, the mayor stated that the men's curfew was strictly voluntary. Men who simply couldn't bear to stay indoors during the six-hour restriction were asked to carry self-styled "safe conduct" passes. About 200,000 men went out that night, some of them angrily calling Mockus a "clown" in TV interviews.
But most men graciously embraced Mockus' campaign. In the lower-middle-class neighborhood of San Cristobal, women marched through the streets to celebrate their night. When they saw a man staying at home, carrying a baby, or taking care of children, the women stopped and applauded.
That night the police commander was a woman, and 1,500 women police were in charge of Bogotá's security.
Another innovative idea was to use mimes to improve both traffic and citizens' behavior. Initially 20 professional mimes shadowed pedestrians who didn't follow crossing rules: A pedestrian running across the road would be tracked by a mime who mocked his every move. Mimes also poked fun at reckless drivers. The program was so popular that another 400 people were trained as mimes.
"It was a pacifist counterweight," Mockus said. "With neither words nor weapons, the mimes were doubly unarmed. My goal was to show the importance of cultural regulations."
A bigger classroom?
Mockus noted that his administrations were enlightened by academic concepts, including the work of Nobel Prize-winning economist Douglass North, who has investigated the tension between formal and informal rules and how economic development is restrained when those rules clash; and Jürgen Habermas' work on how dialogue creates social capital. Mockus also mentions Socrates, who said that if people understood well, they probably would not act in the wrong way.
Luis Eduardo Garzón, the new mayor of Bogotá, is the first leftist who has been in charge of the second-most important political position in Colombia. Said Mockus, "His election expresses a consensus around the importance of addressing social issues. Garzón has the challenge of opening space to new political forces in a country that has been dominated by a 'bipartidismo bobo' (dumb two-party system)."
Mockus - a sterling exemplar of the current vogue in Latin America for "anti-politicians" - says that transforming Bogotá's people and their sense of civic culture was the key to solving many of the city's problems. He is looking forward to returning to the classroom at Colombian National University after a sabbatical year. But Mockus is also considering the possibility of launching a presidential campaign - and perhaps being in charge of a 42 million student classroom.
SIDE BAR--
More of Mockus in Bogotá
Here are a few more innovations from Antanas Mockus' two mayoral terms:
· Mockus mobilized people to protest against violence and terrorist attacks. He invented a "vaccine against violence," asking people to draw the faces of the people who had hurt them on balloons, which they then popped. About 50,000 people participated in this campaign.
· Mockus also embraced the concept of community policing. He tried to bring the community and the police closer together through the creation of Schools of Civic Security and local security fronts. In 2003, there were about 7,000 local security fronts in Bogotá. "It is very important to understand that the Schools and Fronts respond to a civic ideal. They have nothing to do with firearms but basically promote community organization," Mockus points out.
· Voluntary disarmament days were held in December 1996 and again in 2003. Though less than 1 percent of the firearms in the city were given up, homicides fell by 26 percent, thanks in part to the attention given to the program by the media. The percentage of people who think that it is better to have firearms in order to protect themselves fell from 24.8 percent in 2001 to 10.4 percent in 2003.
· In 2003, the Mockus administration provided 1,235,000 homes with sewage service and 1,316,500 with water services. The city's provision of drinking water rose from 78.7 percent of homes in 1993 to 100 percent in 2003. The sewage service rose from 70.8 percent of homes in 1993 to 94.9 percent in 2003.
· When Mockus assumed power, many city positions were distributed according to council members' recommendations. "I stopped that, and some called me an anti-patronage fundamentalist," Mockus said. He remembers that when he handed a text explaining his goals of transparency to one key council member, the council member first smiled, but later resigned.

go ahead screw my skyline as well

There are a lot of illegal hoardings put across Mumbai by political parties. Nicknamed chamcha hoardings by the press, these hoardings welcome political dignitaries, show personal /political allegiance or have festival greetings. In any case these are illegal and I have no clue why these are even allowed to exist. Most of the time they are eye sores and have ugly politician faces on them. I guess in politics these days ‘a man is known by the hoarding he keeps.
I came across this one recently. It’s got the public prosecutor Ujjwal Nikam on it. After the terrorist attacks the hoardings had all the martyrs’ photos on them. Now that one of the terrorist is sentenced to death, we have the photo of the public prosecutor on it. To give you a better understanding on the same, here is a link to a blog that will explain exactly why it makes no sense to me. http://girishshahane.blogspot.com/2010/05/todays-mumbai-mirror-leads-with-story.html. Read the comments as well.

More on hoardings – check this ad by marbonite. Shouldn’t the agency be hauled over coals?

They actually blackened the customers face? A satin on my floor is a BLOTCH on my face and is akin to my face being blackened? And then to show it upfront, like this? This advertising of the lowest standards. I don’t think it can go lower. I think an ad like this is a blotch on the face of the agency and the client. Dear marbonite owner - how about your face being blackened and shown on a harding?


Here is one by Provogue. Provogue is clothing brand which is not apparent from the hoardings. They have tied up with one of biggest duds on the box office “kites”. But that’s ok. That should not really have a bearing on the ads and the rub off that you want to create. In fact when ever I see these ads I feel the ads are designed to show the leading man’s abs and that all I take away from the hoardings. It might do Hritik a whole world of good but I can’t see the rub off on the brand. Or possibly I am the wrong target. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing the stuff or worse still, be seen shopping in its stores. Way too filmy for me. There, the agency can now take this to the client and say that don’t worry the ad is doing well. See it’s getting noticed and the rub will happen. And don’t bother about the criticisms; this blogger is not from our target group.
Ya sure.

torn

Nothing to say so back to the trusty old photos.
Here is a proud papa showing off.
Jispa was bored and she started showing some creativity with papers. Torn papers to be precise. Here are a couple of dogs

And here are a couple of pigs

I think they are cute… what say?

continue horsing around

Today’s newspapers had an interview with the Indian cricket batsman Gautam Gambhir. He has been quite a revelation for Indian cricket and has quickly climbed the heights. The interview was after the Indian T20 world cup debacle. It seemed like a planned interview designed to elicit positive PR for the team. I am fine with the strategy. Positive PR is required and is many times an effective thwart against some really hostile press. But something he said caught me mind. The interviewer asks:

“I believe one Shaun Tait snorter left a crack on the bat, but you are continuing to use it... Yeah, it is there on the shoulder of my main match bat. I am using it because I want it to keep on reminding myself that I had an ordinary World Cup. It’s just a motivation thing really.”

My parents always encouraged me to go on stage and never bother about stage fright or anything else. I some how remember my dad a lot. He always encouraged me not to fear. I realise what Gautam is saying is not about fear. It’s about reminding yourself that you didn’t succeed. But I see it as a slightly different way. I see it as a means to come back. Not by erasing the past and wished it did not happen. By knowing and being aware and doing more.
Sometimes while batting there is some really fast bowling that one faces. It cant scare you. On more than one occasion I have faced bouncers that have whizzed past my nose. These are designed for you to go on the back foot. Arun, my captain and coach had also taught me to stand outside the crease for the fast bowler and negate most leg before decisions. After a bouncer that I managed to miss, I would tell myself “hey, I saw it. I could duck and weave out of the way. Sure I was surprised and I don’t have the talent to hook it but I have enough ‘eye’ to move out. Keep batting. Fresh guard will again be outside the crease. If you want me in the crease, you will have to risk your wicketkeeper nose by asking him to stand up”.
You have to face up to your obstacles. You have to go back and play it.

Once in Matheran, we had to go down the market. I asked Jasmine to carry on and I told her that Jispa and I would come down on the horses. With Jispa standing beside me I was mounting a horse. While I was mounting my foot slipped off and I fell. The horse was startled and he lifted his feet and bounced about. Luckily I was not in the way, nor was Jispa. But the horse sufficiently excited every other horse around and the other horse men had to hold on tight to the reins. Quite a scary experience and Jispa too was scared. I held Jispa tight and smiled. The original horse and his man quickly disappeared. A moment to gather our senses and we were going back on another horse. I thought about what my dad would have done. Walking out at the time would have taught my kid to be scared of the horse. I was not going to do that. Come on Jispa let’s get back on and ride another one. Jispa was a bit shaken. She was about 5 or 6. But I felt that she took her cues from me and she was on another horse confidently riding with me.

You have to get back and conquer whatever little fear you have. You don’t have to forget the past; remember it, learn from it. You have to get stronger. Resilient

I have had this tryst with horses my whole life. I remember all the time I have had bad experiences with horses. As a kid in Kashmir when the horses ran amok with my brother, me and another friend each on a different horse running in a different direction. With one horse man running trying to get them all in control. I was around 8 or 10 years old and the horse man gave me signal to pull the reins as he ran for the others. I pulled and the horse lifted his front feet and I must have looked like Sunny Deol. The horse came to a stop. I remember the incident clearly and I remember not felling scared. I was probably too little to be scared. The man then finally got all the horses under control and we got to the hotel. He kept telling my dad what a near brush we had had, how this little boy was very brave. I probably was too small to know but the incident has been etched in my mind. “I am brave on a horse.”
I have fallen off a horse near Yamnotri as the saddle broke. As it broke, I tried falling to my right as on the left was a deep ravine. Lucky me. On our honey moon in Nainital early morning, the horse I had wanted to be a little funny as well. I remember the horse man telling me, if I would have been a Bengali then the entire Nainital would have woken up. Hah. He doesn’t know what I have been through. I even remember my dad falling off a horse only to get back on top to ride with us. That’s the way we ride.

a mere hedge

The great hedge of India. Sounds cool nah? At first as a banker when I read it, it sounded like some great hedge that India has that protects it from any downside in economy. Something like a hedge against inflation or something like a hedge against economic downturn or something. More like a financial hedge, an advantage that we have against any downside. A hedge is basically a good thing to have in financial markets.
But as I read further I was completely flabbergasted. This was something that could have only been possible during the British Empire. I have read a book an a half by John Keay. One was ‘discovering India’ and the other I got only half way through ‘the great arc’. The reason I couldn’t finish it was because it was loaned to me by Captain Steve Lall of Jilling Estates while I was holidaying at his property and the vacation finished faster than I could read. I am trying to get my hands on that one. Which reminds me. I should try and get that through Infibeam.com. I get all the difficult to get books from there. Cheaper than others and no postage necessary. (I am not played to plug that, in case you were wondering.) The other book by John Keay on the East India Company was too boring for words.
Coming back to the point. I read today that the Great Hedge of India (wiki link) was just that, a physical hedge, 3200 kms long. Also called the Inland Customs Line, the British used it to collect the salt tax and control the opium trade. As I quote from the wikipedia : The barrier consisted of fences, stone walls, and above all a nearly impenetrable barrier of trees, thorny bushes, and hedges, with periodic guard stations…According to Moxham, the customs line was an instrument employed by the British to enforce taxation on salt, effectively a tax on all subjects, as a result of it being a basic food item. Moxham argues that the Hedge may have caused mass salt deficiencies.

This is so believable, in line with our popular notion of the oppressive British rule in India. As I read this I can only think of a movie plot. The British come to India and begin a construction of a mammoth hedge to control the trade of salt and tax it heavily while growing rich at the expense of the natives. One of the works (our hero or his father perhaps) is beaten and made to work on this hedge. In the village the hero is a carefree individual with razor sharp cunning which we see in the games he plays while romancing the women. But slowly calamity hits the village and his fellow villagers are dying and suffering from salt deficiencies. He realizes his calling and thanks to the secrets of the hedge that his father has told him about, e attempts to get salt to his people. He smuggles to the coast, he gets his salt, he hides and runs from the British. The climax action sequence is when he runs into the jungles and has an army chasing him and he manages to run and defeat them using his skill and rustic skills, hone as a prankster and a hunter and foxes them, to take salt to his people and thereby saving lives, having a one up on the British and making thereby sparking a revolution against the British on Indian soil.

You like it. Well, it’s better than beating them at cricket just to save some tax. (a la Lagaan, duh?)

Well at the worst if you don’t have a huge budget then merely make a documentary about how Roy Moxham, a conservator at the University of London Library managed to ‘unearth’ it.

And the last clincher to the tale that will explain its ultimate relevance – from wiki again “Though the Hedge was dismantled, the salt tax remained, and later precipitated the famous Salt March of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, a significant moment in the history of Indian independence.”
any takers?

traffic sense

On some days I get home faster and on some days I get home slower. The traffic is a bit unpredictable. It’s generally easier on Mondays than other days as I guess it must be thanks to the retail business holiday. But the unpredictability of the route is typically concentrated in only what might be 5% of the complete route distance.
That my attempt to make a some statement like 80% of variability in returns depend on asset allocation rather than eth asset fluctuation. I know, it sounds like fart and it may not make sense to you (or me); but there is some serious science behind this stuff.
So there is a patch on the route that makes the commute highly unpredictable. If there is traffic on that route I am doomed at the spot anywhere 15 to 50 minutes. I could walk faster through that patch. It is sion koliwada. The interior heart of the place. the place where are large chawls with Jai Bhim written in blue, where just of the road there is a colony called sardar nagar, and large slums with south Indians dominate. All in all it seems to be a very potent combination. This road through the place did not exist a few years ago. The carved a road from here to the highway which leads to my complex. This is a short cut and I safely save 20 minutes else I would have to make the great turn at priyadarshini circle which at peak hours is horribly horribly jammed.
So the traffic I get once in ten days (a little dense) or once in 20 days (quite slow) and once in 30 days (we are celebrating some festival you dickhead) is well worth the trouble.
Especially the last one. Once in 30 days (I suspect the instances are getting closer) there is some festival or another by some community. Since it is a densely populated area comprising of the lower income group, the political parties are also fairly active there. We rich basterds rarely vote and we are too far spread to really rally around. So on and off there will be a rally, a stage built on the bloody road, a procession, some dance and excitement and a large mass of people roaming around. Recently the monorail which is expected to pass through narrowed the roads further, dug some stuff up, erected barricades and then just as suddenly, filled the holes and left, leaving rubble. So much happens in that one or two kilometre stretch that it makes the rest of my commute seem mundane in comparison. Well actually, the rest is mundane. How exciting can western express highway followed by a cut through dharavi and a drive past Sion hospital get. There is one really stupid cross road just at the start of the mad street. The cross road by itself is not srazy. Poor thing. It just lies there. The craziness is due to the cars that insist on creating logjams there. The bus coming in from opposite wants to turn to its right and invariably finds itself facing a car on the wrong side which is trying to manoeuvre, in order to pass the bike which is stuck as the car ahead is overtaking a waiting line which in turn got jammed by the original bus leading to other in my line rushing forward on the wrong side in the hope that somehow by reaching ahead they will beat the system, causing many more to follow suit and then some want to take the turn which is to my right to get inside, but is a no entry, but who cares anyway as that lane has cars parked all over and has many garages that park their cars on the kerb while they work on it and the ….. you got the point. Dint you?
You pass that and you get to the chaotic bazaar right ahead. I think the yoga I have been doing must be helping me here. The other day there was a procession of the South Indians. They had completely jammed the road. The crowd was so great that the bikes which normally make their way too were pretty much stuck. Yoga connection? I was happily stuck. It did not bother me one bit. I was pretty much unfazed. At one point I even stepped out and locked the car. I was enjoying the music I couldn’t understand a word of. I was enjoying the crowd, smiling at people, laughing and cracking jokes with the bikes who were hassled. Sharing a smile, everything. Just short of dancing alongwith the crowd. It was some weird festival. The guys were in a procession carrying some pots and garlands around. But the interesting bit was the human self torture. They had these huge hooks which were essentially hooked up on their backs, with the hooks passing through the skin and they were pulling stuff with it. Some were pulling loads of coconuts while one guys I saw… what the hell was that… he was pulling a god dam TAXI? Whoa. Then there were the others who had huge rods piercing their cheeks. They went in from one side to come out through the other. And they would be roaming around with that hanging on their cheeks. Weird. I have a few of these before. Never understood why they torture themselves such.
Here is the pic of the rod guy.

The rod is much bigger than what you see and the reason he is so bending as he is trying to manoeuvre his rod between the traffic. Swaying from side to side.
I can’t believe this shit still happens. Now I guess I know why I am not that religious. They all seem to lead to some form of flagellation. Suffering is intrinsic in religion I guess.

can you ask me that answer again?

I was explaining to the poor customer care lady from my car service station (Jay Bharat Hyundai) that I cannot remember how the service was done. My Hyundai i-ten was serviced in Jan. that information was also provided by her. I can’t remember when it was done. I don’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday. She still insisted that at least I know if what I said or had complaints about were addressed. Lady, how can I know that? We are right now in May. At best I might remember if you had botched up the service. Which I don’t think you did. My car is running fine right now.
After a few minutes of me stonewalling and refusing to say something I don’t remember at all she agreed and moved onto the next question in her interview. Could I please rate the service on a score from 0 to 5. Oh shit man. Lady. I just told you I don’t remember anything. Do you remember what you did in Jan. Do you remember what you did last week? What were you doing yesterday? You don’t right? How can I score you guys if I don’t remember what experience I had? It’s been four months.
Sir, but at least some score. NO. I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED. Surely you did not screw up big tie and hence I have no bad memories but I have none. What part of that did you not understand?
That’s proactive customer service for you. We care so we call you. Even four months from then and ask you what had happened then. Hopefully you don’t remember shit and you score us good. Since you guys are obviously so polite not to give us bad marks on things you don’t recollect. Hence I have a great customer satisfaction score and I am doing a good job.
I told my wife about the conversation and she was wondering why the call was made. She had already got the call a few days after the service was done. That’s a good thing. A decent follow-up call, just after. After four months your call can be at best a call that checks to see if your car is working all well. Not to score what happened four months ago. Especially on something as unearthshaking as routine car service. Why? Don’t you realise we get shit from tele marketers all the time.
While right now its pretty cool to have follow up service, my prediction is that this too will become a nuisance factor soon enough. The companies that will do well will be the companies that do not need follow up calls as their processes and procedures themselves are tight enough to provide the best service and their redressal mechanism would be swift and powerfull while being accessible.
But that seems to be pipe dream. In India we are busy chasing growth and are tapping into the vast India as it gets richer and richer. Who cares for the leaky bucket if the tap on top continues to pour its bounty? Growth always comes at a cost. Rapid growth comes at an even higher cost. If it is too good to be true then it is too good to be true. I don’t think our immature capitalism understands this yet.

I am probably needlessly taking off on Hyundai right now. It is a wrong thing to do. At least they are trying to do something. But the point is that in trying too hard they end up getting data that is wrong. Data has to be understood in its context and not by itself.

I hope companies like Hyundai understand this and not merely take action on quantitative scores. A process to get the data is as important as the data that is being gathered. Everyone knows that, even the folks at Hyundai. But we end up being so lazy that we don’t bother to put in a check for this. It won’t affect the short run but it will hide serious flaws in the wrong run. Anyone remembers ‘the broken windows theory’ made famous by Malcolm Gladwell? Look it up.

knowing your onions

It was good to be a sickly kid after all. It comes back to haunt, oops sorry, help you when you grow older.
Jispa tonsils progressed from bad to worse. They started hurting her ears. At first they hurt a bit and then it started hurting more. We called up the paediatrician and she prescribed some ear drops which we duly bought. After we put them in her pain went sharpened. I guess the liquid medicine seemed to have exacerbated her immediate pain and she started screaming in agony. At first we tried to knock some patience in her. But then I remembered my childhood.
I used to get tonsillitis often enough and the infected would spread to the ear. The ear infection would remain in a dormant state for some time to come. Once millions of years ago, while we were in Pune at mom’s friends place, my brother and I were playing in the garden outside. I dunno what happened but my brother decided to give me a slap. Older brothers seem to love to do that kind of thing. Being the youngest of tree kids has given me enough reason (mental scar) for Jispa not to have siblings. This slap was a not so hard but it was misdirected. Instead of the cheek it hit the ear. Aw aw aw ow owowow ow.. MUMMY… I remember crying out loud and rushing in. Mommy was quite worried and my brother was aghast at what he saw as essentially overacting. According to his philosophy larding over me is fine and I complaining to a higher power was a sign of betrayal and cowardice. A squeal. It was my duty to submit wilfully to his orders. Now you know.
So mom took me aside and instantly readied her remedy. She boiled water and kept it at one side. Then covered it. she then took two napkins and got them warm on the lid. One by one she gave me a gentle .. what’s that word?.. a gentle warm _____… is it called dry fomentation? something we call it ‘sake’ in gujarati. Basically she put warm napkins on my ear, one by one. Lovely feeling and the pain just vanished away in due course.
So when Jispa really couldn’t bear it anymore, I asked Jasmine to boil water and get me some towels. I thought she understood the remedy. Ina few minutes a little warm water came in. I was like ‘I need it boiling Jasmine and get a lid’. Oh ok. She thought you wanted to put some in her ears. It’s not your fault Jasmine. I was the sickly kid. I was the one who knew all the shit that happens and all the possible remedies. So water was taken and heated to boiling point. In the meanwhile we took the towels and warmed them on the food vessels that were already hot.
I got Jispa to sleep on one side and gently put warm dry towels on her ear. In two minutes she stopped crying, in five she was better, in ten she was ok and in fifteen minutes we had enough and wanted to continue to watch her movie. Charlie and the chocolate factory. Roald Dahl might have been a great writer for kiddy books but I guess this made for a lousy movie script.
And I felt that finally after years of suffering as a kid I finally saw some light in His ways. So if you are getting married to someone with whom you might have babies, first figure out if either of you have been sick kids (especially as teenagers, since you would then have remembered the experience). If both of you have been reasonably healthy and not experienced enough of bacteria and viruses then I think you guys will be unfit to raise kids. No chance.
Jasmine is pathetic when it comes to understanding illness. I am the resident expert. She can nurture well enough, and she takes super care; but you really can’t write a treatise on hunger if you haven’t experienced it first hand.

it works

Jispa is currently down with tonsillitis. I used to be a victim of this with alarming regularity when I was little. I think it took be to graduate from college to sufficiently build enough defences to now be at reasonable ease with the tonsils. I remember the big problem with tonsils was the fever. If they got infected, besides obstructing my swallowing, my fever would shoot up. Straight 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Mom got some time to get used to this and then finally understood that this but natural with the infection. A dose of antibiotics along with paracetamol (typically crocin) would be great. I must swallowed kilotons of them by the time I grew up.
So yesterday when Jispa’s fever hit 102 levels I knew it was par for the course. The problem surfaced for us when the fever did not rapidly subside when we gave her a Crocin yesterday. Action mode kicked off. Frantic calls to the doctor were made. The doctor recommended a sponge bath. Jispa was completely irritable and hated it and she got very angry with us. She still had energy to get angry, which was a good thing. I firmly told her that we are doing what is right irrespective of what she says. After some time the fever went up to 103. This was panic mode. The doctor asked to give a dispirin and to give Gelusil along with to counter the possible acidity. This was around 12 and I ran out to get a 24 hour medical shop and get the medicine. We kept cold water strips on her head to ensure that the fever stays away from the brain.
Jispa knew this was trouble. If the fever would not subside from now she would necessarily be put in hospital.
Luckily the Dispirin took its effect. In around 35/ 40 minutes, she began to feel really warm and better.
But in the meanwhile I noticed something that has had me thinking for sometime. After we had given her the Dispirin I noticed that she had kept both her fingers crossed. While continuing the cold water strips on her forehead, I asked her, why? She was not keen / too weak to answer. I opened them, thinking it was a unintentional action. Then I asked her, if she did it for good luck. She mumbled a yes and I let the matter rest. Jasmine came in and then pointed the crossed fingers to me. according to her, it must be the germs game they have been playing. This is a funny game that they play in school. You touch and other person and say germs, the other person is deemed to have gotten the germs. If he does not touch another person on the count of ten then he has ‘melted’ due to the germs. How do you take care and stop the germs from hitting you – your fingers must be crossed. Hmmm. Must be that.
Today morning I asked her why she had done it. She said she had done it so that she did not have to go to hospital. She had crossed her fingers and said that she wished that she did not have to go to college. I asked her if she learned that somewhere. Nopes. Did it mean good luck? No. Was it from the game? I don’t know. But you could have asked God for it I remarked, why cross your fingers. Then I realised that I have taught her not to ask God for anything. In fact I have put in her mind the question of the existence of God.
I asked her if it really happens. She said she doesn’t know but it worked nah? It worked for me this time. Yes dear. It surely did. I told her that doesn’t worry. If you have to go to the hospital then possibly it might be a good thing. You might learn something, you might experience something. Have faith.
I kept thinking. We have tried not to teach her any superstition. We have tried to teach her to question God. We have tried to teach her that things remain within yourself. Trust yourself and your belief. Thank god, if you believe, for what you have but no point really asking for anything. If you see, she did not ask God for anything. She just crossed her hands and wished that she did not have to go to the hospital. Whom did she wish to? Herself.
It’s interesting. If a child is an unbiased respondent then this is an interesting case. Are we wired to believe in God. We look for strength in times of trouble. We believe that by wishing we can somehow control things around us. Wishing in some sorts seems to be a primitive form of prayer to me. If I had taught my daughter the Strength and the Glory of god, would she have wished to God instead? But since we have taught her otherwise, she wished to herself instead. She though that she could alter natural course of action by the strength of a wish or a ritual. Hence the belief in God that has evolved over years to be highly ritualistic... I don’t know. These are questions that I must be needlessly over analysing. But I think there is some merit here.
I have had my tryst with superstitions. I have had my run in with my share of bribery with the supreme lord. I have had my fall out with rituals. I have fought and so far won over these in my head and heart. But to see my eight year old do this fills me with question.
Am I denying her, the right to God? Isn’t she supposed to believe in the Supreme Being? Shouldn’t she take comfort in religion the way countless millions do, I haven’t taught her to pray but I have also taught her to respect God. I have merely asked her to question the world interpretation of God and the rituals around it.
Actually I think I must be happy. In adversity she turned to herself. She did not ask me, she did not tell me to some how stop it from happening. She asked herself. Sure, she used a ritual. She used something that gave her hope. I am glad it was something inside of her.
Suddenly as I think, we saw the movie Badmaash company, recently. In that the protagonist uses the crossed fingers when he needs extra help. Possibly that might have prompted the thought. Kids learn by all around us. They take their cues from anywhere. From places you never thought possible. Possibly it’s this or possible its other factors, or a combination of many. No one knows.
But I am surely thinking about this and this might remain in my mind of sometime to some. At the end you possibly require something, some Ritual to help you channelise your strengths. Possibly that’s what they help in. that’s why they were invented.
Possibly now I have become older and hence I can channelise my mind without a ritual hence I actively disband it’s use as a superstition. But there are still so many rituals that help us. Eating together, hugging before we leave for school. The morning waking up. (how could I not remember that). whatever.
I guess after today I might be a little more ambivalent. I was a little left of neutral. I moved a little to the right to be a little less left of neutral on the topic.
One thing is for sure, Jispa reminded me of the basic truth of life. “It worked this time nah?”. Yes Jispa. It did. It surely did.