Freedom

We spend the first year of a child's life teaching him or her to walk and talk "and the rest of their lives telling them to shut up and sit down."

I read this somewhere and its really true and so truer than now with respect to Jispa. Jispa is suddenly becoming a big girl. She understands stuff, is able to argue back and is broadly able to resist. So whats wrong. Nothing – just as parents now we have to be all ready to handle a different child than the one we were handling six months ago. The nature of adolescence is now panning out. Neither she nor we know if she is an adult or a child. Should we treat her as if she knows nothing or should we treat her as if she knows everything. We have to get after her to do her stuff and she says she knows what to do. Jasmine is letting her peel and cut cucumbers and I baulk at the approval. That’s not done. I don’t think she is ready yet but then many girls younger to her do this and much more.

She fights and fights aggressively for freedom and responsibility and on giving she promptly screws it all up. She would  then proceed to just not do what is expected of her. Its not that she doesn’t understand. She does but just something happens and …. And it just creates more confusion in our minds. Is she old or is she young. Every phase gets tougher and tougher. Now that she is in the fifth grade the pressure of homework and studies have cranked up dramatically. There is a lot more to study and with her swimming schedule the time that she has is dramatically less. Time seems to have been condensed these days. So much so that we are now constantly on her case. Jasmine gets completely done in by the stress and then it gets to me. I try and understand and allow but then Jispa will simply mess things up and make me wonder whats going on. I allow her leeway in the morning to relax and not rush – the consequence is that when we are to leave she will not be ready and there is a mad rush for the bags. I allow her some time to read  a magazine at night – the consequence is that she remembers in the morning about the home work to be done and there is a mad rush with unfinished home work. We let her see a movie and project will remain unfinished or she will be ill prepared for her reviews.

Oh dam me. I always maintained that I will not put pressure on her to study. She is free to enjoy her life and do as she pleases. Studies will not be the main focus of her life like what my parents did. Studies they knew was the only way out of a life of struggle. They were right in their era. Time shave changed. I maintained always but then it lasted only till I became a parent of a 10 year old. So now I have changed to from studies is not it to only studies is not it. You need studies and something else. Or you have your something else and you have studies as well. Earlier when Jispa was born I was a complete ass. I even thought that great it’s a girl, at least the pressure on her to grow up and study and become an engineer is not there. But dam… that’s not the thing. We know she is smart and we know that she can do well. She has a great brain that is able to memorise as well as reason. So what’s my job as a dad? Is it to give her a great and happy childhood that she will remember for life (and not blame me like how I sometimes blame my parents) or teach her to study, make her study for now and then hopefully she takes a call later on what she wants to do in life.

I really don’t want to pressurize her. Yesterday as well I had to take the school magazine from her and get her to study and finish her homework. She obviously did not like it. It showed on her face. Later on I asked her about it and then I spoke to her. I told her I was sorry. She had to finish her stuff, I hate being a  mean dad much more than you hate having one. But I am sorry. She understood. At the end as was sleeping I told her “I am sorry and I promise you that it WILL happen again”. We laughed. It’s a tough one. And it’s not as simple as ‘let Jasmine do the irritating discipline thing and I will do the fun thing’. That’s not on as well. That’s unfair to one parent. So we both have to be mean and sweet. The thing is to alternate. But it’s getting freaking tough on both of us. We are constantly being pulled in by our true nature, our role as parents and our desires to see our child do well.

So what’s the answer to all this? its difficult. The way I see it right now and the way I explained to Jispa is simple. I have no option but ensure that you have a great base. She is around 11 right now. I have another 5-6 years at best to hound her and get her to study. If this base is well constructed then she can build it from there on.in fact she can then even decide to chuck it all and do something else altogether. But to have the freedom to choose you need to be able enough to get the choice in the first place. If you want to reject an admission in a college you need to get the admission to start with. That leave sus with very little room to play with. And that little room is gobbled up with her swimming. If she swims so many hours a day, she is eating into all her time for everything else. Plus we have to ensure she plays a bit and movies and relax and read… wow. I keep explaining to her that if she was a simple fun kid then she would have had time for a lot of simple cute fun. But is choosing to be a champion. Representing Mumbai is no mean feat, there are choices to be made and scarifies to be done. It is up to the athlete to choose. But she will need to.

On this a bit of philosophy that I read might help. It’s quite an interesting story. I have read this story as a kid, but I never did figure that this is an interesting and deeply philosophical construct. Read on. How limiting Jispa’s choices now we are actually giving her the freedom to choose! Sorry Jips, I think you are not going to find this one inspiring. Atleast for now.

http://bigthink.com/experts-corner/odysseus-nudged

Odysseus Nudged: How Limiting Our Choices Can Give Us More Freedom

by DAVE NUSSBAUM

According to legend, the Sirens were beautiful women whose voices were so alluring that when sailors heard their song they could not resist approaching and were drowned on the rocky shores of the island where the Sirens sang. No sailor had heard their song and lived until Odysseus, who, on the counsel of the goddess Circe, had his crew tie him to the mast of his ship. When he heard the Sirens’ song he begged to be released, but his crew, their ears plugged with beeswax, would not unbind him and saved him from his own desires. Odysseus was lucky – he knew that he would be unable to resist the Sirens and had himself bound – but people often have difficulty foreseeing their weakness from a distance. Sometimes they need help.

I love watching my not-quite-two-year-old son learn about the world from his mistakes. I look on with sympathy at his falls and bumps and spills and I try to restrain myself from interceding. But when he’s about to tumble down a flight of stairs I step in. It is difficult to balance preserving his freedom to explore and make his own mistakes with the desire to keep him safe. There’s a lot to be said for giving kids autonomy and letting them learn from experience, but sometimes you have to behave paternalistically and tie them to the mast (or at least install safety gates).

When you start treating grown men and women like you’re their father, though, the charge of paternalism becomes a more serious one. There may be cases in which a heavy-handed approach is necessary (particularly when people’s actions harm others), but we should be careful about using it. A more circumspect approach is libertarian paternalism, described by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein in Nudge (and re-articulated more recently by Sunstein in his Simpler) as a way of influencing people to make decisions that they themselves would consider beneficial, without restricting their freedom.

Here, we are not tying Odysseus to the mast – the more appropriate analogy would be to the beeswax that Odysseus had his sailors put in their ears. The wax prevented the sailors from hearing the Sirens’ song and saved them from being lured to their deaths, but it also left them free to remove the wax if that is what they wanted to do. This sort of intervention is an acknowledgment that the sailors’ freedom is important, but also that people are not always perfectly rational. As Carnegie Mellon economist (and psychologist) George Loewenstein recently explained to me, “When people have problems exercising self-control, restricting their choices can, in some cases, leave them more freedom to choose.”

On its face, Loewenstein’s claim may seem paradoxical – isn’t a person most free when presented with all her options and allowed to choose among them? But as the mythical Sirens make clear, there are some options that we are not truly free to resist. Without beeswax in their ears Odysseus’ crew would have been doomed; the wax gave them the freedom to choose.

memories

I remember green carpet, my dad in his kurta pyjama, in our hall in Dubai and dad fiddling with his new beautiful Sony cassette player system. It is an amazing memory. Its morning and dad puts on this cassette of Mr Natwarlal and I am listening to Amitabh doing a fantastic job of singing mere Paas aao mere doston ek kissa sunoh. Wow those memories are something else. I must have been no greater than 6 or 7 years old. (the movie released when I was around 4). But I remember it andwhen ever the song runs I am immediately transported back. Here is the song

The song is forever etched in memory and frequent references to it come when someone askes or mentions about life and says something to the effect of ‘aap toh ache ji rahe ho’ and I retort “yeh jeena bhi koi jeena hai, lallu?”. Only those who are around as old as me would understand the reference to the dialogue. Yesterday I cracked that dialogue with my office gang to a very cold response and then like an old man I went onto youtube and explained the context of the dialogue to the very young team.

Some memories can never be explained to others. They are yours and yours alone. The significance of hugging someone older in a  kurta pyjama is something that is mine alone. Now I don’t need to put Jispa to sleep. She sleeps on her own but everyday after a bath and wearing my nightsuit (kurta pyjama) I go to Jispa’s bed and hug her tightly and kiss her good night. And she goes ‘yay yay… papa smell smell’. According to her there is a distinct Papa smell which she loves and takes in. in the morning also she will hug and say ‘papa smell papa smell’. I guess this is her memory that she will take with her wherever.

These memories are so emotional. Smells, touch, feel.. they all have their own connects. Most Mumbai residents will have a distinct memory of the smell of monsoon. Of course their associations could be good or nasty. It varies from experiences and people.

Like there is this other song from the same movie. I love this song as well. Obviously I would have heard it from the same cassette. It’s a nice song with folksy feel to it. I must have heard it at the same time as the earlier song but the emotion is somehow missing. (don’t miss those boots. I remember them distinctly. Ya this visual memory is stronger)

I guess what must have happened is that dad would have looked at me or called me or I must have laughed with him when the earlier song was played and this one was just played – without special intentions or eye contacts or something. So while I love both the songs, the mere paas aao, has a special ring to it. In fact watching the video leaves me cold. I love listening to the song. Amitabh’s baritone reverberating through the room. I love to listen to it but not watch it at all. There is nothing in the video and everything in the audio. Memories are a funny thing.

And while we are at it, here is one song that could have a similar effect on Jispa 30 years hence. Again we have Amitabh and his signature baritone. His voice has definitely aged but the distinct quality remains unchanged. Here is a song I love and I listen to it many times in the car, on speakers. Jispa has not even seen the movie and hence may not even know of the video but she would recognize the song and I tried explaining to her to the best of my ability the meaning of the song. And we have played it upteen number of times. So here listen on Jispa and tell me when you come back to it in the year 2043 if it rings a bell! What is it that you feel? What do you remember – iTen, car, papa, papa smell, drive, vacation… what is it triggering. A penny for your thoughts

I find this Ekla chalo re rendition inspiring and it does help me when in office I am going to (or feel like I am going to.. ) kick some ones butt.

monsoon blues

The monsoon are truly well upon us. This time around they came with a  bang and have stayed since. We have had heavy rains. Ever since the big floods that created havoc around seven years ago, the psyche of the average Mumbai dweller seems to have been scarred. That day the city came to a standstill, a few died and a large majority walked home or stayed at friends place or stuck inside their cars. We were very  lucky on that day. A couple of days before we left for Goa in my car. Jasmine, Jispa and me , on our very first road trip. We stayed at Ganapatiphule on the first night and we saw the fury of the monsoon on the second day onward to Goa. That monsoon travelled from south to Mumbai causing havoc. On the way we too faced quite a bit of the action. The Goa highway was submerged in many places. To our luck we kept asking around, referring maps and always took an alternate route from inside. We reached till the edge of Goa. At Malvan we seemed well and truly stuck. I remember getting off and asking for directions at a shop when a slightly drunk kind of guy was behind me and overheard us. He first tried to help which I ignored. Then he kept insisting and explaining the route. The others did not know of it. He explained and the others agreed. There was one way from inside. It went through the fields and farms and some nondescript villages. We took it and some how reached Goa!. We phoned home to know of the horrors that Mumbai faced. It was a Black swan event. Unprecedented heavy rains coupled with a very high tide threw the Mumbai storm water drainage system into a mess. Water rushed in from the sea instead of the other way round and Mumbai was horribly flooded.

I guess that was really bad and I was happy to escape it along with my car. Many cars suffered. But then something changed about the Mumbai spirit. Earlier no matter what Mumbaiites would turn up for work. Knee deep water – of course. Trains stuck – sure. Traffic – that’s ok. Somehow people managed to get to work. Without complain or major delay. You just showed up. I used to stay at kings circle which was a low lying area. I would simply wear my sandals fold my pants up and get to work. Simple. I don’t know what stopped anyone. While going home people would struggle but somehow reach. No complains no issues. But now I wonder. They seem to be giving to much importance to the news. It’s flooding everywhere, things are very bad, and traffic is a killer. I guess things are bad many times, but not as bad as the media hypes them. People are permanently scarred and that’s a big issue. The TV channels keeps reminding them again and again. The whole world then tries to leave early and the result is a bad jam at 5-6 pm. And that keeps the vicious circle running.

I am sure on some days it’s bad and today is another impending calamity. We have forecast of heavy rain with high tide, which is a bit of a problem. I hope it all ends well but for now I already got calls about the knee length water around the homes and why people can’t come to work.

Knee length water. When we first came in from Dubai as kids we loved so much water. It was crazy. From a childhood spent so far in a desert to the Monsoon rains. King circle would invariably get flooded and when the neighborhood boys came to call us – come come, lets go and see the floods, I was superbly excited. Mom allowed as some good big boys were also around. So we went to see the floods which were till my thighs or waist. The water was dirty for sure and I wouldn’t want to dip my tiny toe in it now, but at the time – it was big fun. When a truck would push its way through the flood it would send a wave of water all around which made the flood resemble a sea. Oh that was awesome fun. Would I now take Jispa to the floods. I don’t think so. I don’t know but I find the water dirty mucky and … unhygienic. Poor thing will grow up without playing the floods. Then she too will grow up and refuse to turn up for work – stating knee length water. Hah!

One time I was horribly stuck. We were at a friend’s house in breach candy. This was before marriage. We took a bus and somehow reached Jasmine’s home. I then dropped her off and set off for my home. I had to walk a lot, I climbed onto a truck laoded with metal scrap (along with hitch hikers) waded through water and reached kings circle – where the dark ocean awaited me. There were two lines a la the partition, going through the water. One  or two good Samaritans were standing where the drains were and pushing people away from there. Mumbai has this drains which the municipality open the covers off for the water to flow off faster. That is what you need to avoid and be careful off while walking around the floods. At one juncture, I had to turn into a small lane. There were no lights and a truck which was stuck and the tyres submerged. I had no option. I knew that there was a drain there somewhere. I turned in and continued. The water was at first till the thighs, then the waist and then slowly slowy it rose beyond. I held my wallet in hy hand and keeping my hands in the air I walked. The water was almost till my chest. It was dark and I was alone in that crossing. I tried to avoid the corners where the drains could be open. I walked through and slowly I reached higher ground. Wow that was a little scary experience. And I lived through to tell you about it :).

That’s my deal and that’s why I wonder at all the fuss. Knee length water in broad daylight, if that is scary you don’t know what scary is.

But that’s all right. I guess I have missed the really big flood so I also don’t know what real scary is. But I do know what funny is. See this. Guy on bike on the highway with a guy behind him trying to hold an umbrella. Wonder what he is trying to do? There is no way you aren't getting wet.

so whats the point of a vacation, anyways?

So whats the prime focus of a vacation. Getting away from it all. Yes and no. getting away from it all is important. You cant really face the stress of everyday living on a vacation. You like to go away, forget the daily grind and enjoy life a bit. So getting away is important. But another one is trying to bond and spend time with family. That’s an important one for Jasmine and me. For us vacation is family time. Spending time with each other and spending time with Jispa. Full on family time. We like to do things together and hence we end up searching for stuff that allows everybody to be together. Of course that means that we elders can get really really bored trying to do things that the kid enjoys because you can’t really expect eth kid to understand stuff that parents enjoy. So invariably it becomes a kid centered vacation. I understand why my mom once told that she is now completely bored of seeing zoos. Everywhere we went she and daddy would just take us to the zoo. Yup.  It does get boring after a while. Where all have we visited zoos. From the more interesting ones at Singapore and Mysore to the more tiring one at Junagadh. We have been everywhere. Go to a city and check – zoo? Yup we are coming. One full hot day gone. Man it’s a good thing that Jispa is growing up. I am nearly totally done with zoos.

This time around in London as well. I was completely tired of them. I was going through the motions. Trying my best to enjoy the dam zoo, but it just wasn’t fun enough. Also the fact is that Singapore zoo is far better than the London zoo and once you have done that London doesn’t come close. It does seem to me that Singapore copied the London zoo model and taken it to another level altogether. It’s great and I was awestruck by it. So I honestly hope and pray that is my last zoo experience to come for a long time.

But the point I am trying to make is slightly different. Jasmine and I often discuss this. There are many of our friends who leave their kids and go on vacations. The kids stay with the grandparents while the couple takes off. That’s also a cool vacation but we just don’t understand it. I would want to spend every time I get off with Jispa and Jasmine together. Of course the dumb ass zoos come with the package but there are so many other benefits as well. There is so much to talk to them, listen to them, have conversations and have fun. Jispa is integral to the whole thing. I guess will grow older without the chance to do many fun young stuff that young adults can do. But it would have still been fun. I probably started working early, got married, became a father before I got the money to do what I could have done as a young adult, but hey, the joy of growing up with Jispa was unparalleled. So Jasmine and I just can’t understand the others who go out for vacations without kids. But then eacht o their own. Who am I to pass judgement.

The other thing about vacations is – luxury. Of course as income goes up the kind of money one spends also goes up. We don’t travel by second non AC sleeper trains anymore. That is too much. The loos and the crowd and the dirt are probably too much to handle. And if the trains aren’t convenient a flight booking is in order. But I think I want to draw the line as far as a complete luxury holiday is concerned. I FOR NOW… don’t want a holiday in which the family goes to a resort of sorts and stay at ease for a week, eating , drinking and relaxing. I don’t have anything against the five stars. I think they are pretty cool and nice to be pampered, but I am not too sure on the pampering thing for us. There is so much learning to be had just by staying in slightly less sterile environments. You stay close to the city, you meet and talk to more people, you take the train and public transport, you walk around… the works. That’s the fun bit. When we stayed in London we stayed at a friends place. She opened the doors of her home and heart to us. That was the only reason we could afford a London vacation for as many days. It’s impossible otherwise. But in hindsight, that was the smartest move we made. I think vacations are as much about learning as much about relaxing. You go around, you meet, you see, you explore and you learn. You learn about people, cultures, nature, and life. Everything about things you weren’t exposed to. In London, staying at a friend’s place gave us a sneak peek into the life of an everyday Londoner. What’s the commute what’s the life and what normal people do. Taking the train and the bus to reach home gave Jispa a real feel of London and its people. That is important. She all sorts of people in the tube, she saw all the different types of stations, she changed trains and understood how efficient and organized it is. That’s the learning bit and who said learning can’t be fun. Staying with our friend in the end is what made the trip extra memorable and FUN.

I admit I was being a  bit judgmental or a bit of an ass when a friend was asking me about my vacation and I replies “well, we have a choice either to go on a one week luxury vacation and come back dumber or go on a different vacation and come back smarter”. I am not saying that every vacation has to be a boot camp but hell, going out and feeling the city is a great thing to do. Leaning may be as important as anything else in a vacation. It doesn’t cost too much to open your eyes. In fact in hindsight I’d say it’s far better a call then a five star. Money can make people do many things. Losing touch with reality is probably one of them. But hell, when you are rich – do you really care about reality? You can afford not :)

What a great dad am I?

Good intentions. They are good but they are not just good enough. And I mean real good intentions. These are intentions that are followed by good action that gains the praise of the world and all round you. People go back happy and love what you do, but they are just not good enough.

Just the other day I was asking Jispa that her birthday is coming up and we can celebrate with a pool party like last time. Like last time I will organize and conduct all the games and we can have a blast. So you want to have one? No was her reply. What? You don’t want to have a pool party. NO. She did not want to have a party this year. I couldn’t just understand it. Why is it that she did not want to have a party? We let it be at the tie but the matter kept ringing in my head. I thought it was a great party. The kids enjoyed, Jispa enjoyed and everyone had a great time. Wasn’t it a fun day to spend at the pool? Evidently it wasn’t so much fun. Jispa refusal did not seem right to me. There was something more to it than I understood. Yesterday in the evening I asked her – “you really don’t want a party this year?”. ‘No”. “why”. “because you don’t listen to me. Last time when the other girl kicked me in the pool you just ignored it.”. “No sweet heart. I can’t favor you or even take your side. You are the host and you have to always let go of it. You must listen.” “No you listen” she said. “Listen. I don’t want you to give me the point but I want you to listen to me. She kicked me and the coins dropped and she took the coins. I was hurt. You must tell her that. That is not fair.”. “And what did I tell you when you told me that?”. “You just told me to shut up and go”. Whoops. “did I really tell you that?”. “yes” she said softly, “you did”. I was stunned. It was obviously me fault. I tried to be a great dad to her. I organized the party, I got into the pool. I made the kids play and everything. I had a lot of fun. In a party when I playing judge I have to be extra fair. The benefit of the doubt must go against my daughter and her team. Always. So I tend to ignore her. Or possibly I am too caught up with my organizing to really become a dad. In my effort to become a Great dad, I ceased to become Her dad. I looked down at her and said “I am sorry. I really am.” I gave a tight hug and she hugged me back. Yup. “its ok”.

I say her down and spoke to her. I explained my point of view. I said I was sorry. I did not mean to do that but I was too focused on the party. She said she understood that I needed to be fair. That I needed to not let her win. She knew it did not matter but all she wanted was me to listen to her. She was right. But the issue was different in my mind. Not that I was a jerk. That I was. But the bigger one was that – why did she not tell me about it. She remembers an incident so well from a year back. And she was obviously hurt by it that she refused to have a part thanks to it. It was a big issue. Why did she not tell me about it? Why did she not talk to me about it? I asked her and I told her that she can always talk to me. Don’t I listen to her so many times? I talk to her whenever I am angry and ya, we fight but we also make up and talk. She said she was afraid that I would just not listen. That really really hurt. Here is one more person telling me that they can’t argue with me. Now this is too much to handle man. I don’t want to win these arguments. I explained to Jispa that I always say sorry immediately, nah? Yes you do dad, but I don’t know. In the end she reassured me that she will speak to me. I urged her that I may be an ass and I may not talk properly but there is also a chance that I may talk nicely. If I hadn’t raised the issue then we would not have had a chance to talk openly and we would not have had a party, she would have suffered in the end. Talk. I always teach you to talk. You respectfully talk and let me see who will not listen to you. Then as a measure of insurance I told her, that whenever she felt she needed to talk to me and I wasn’t listening all she had to do was make the T sign to denote time out and I will stop everything and talk to her. Many times I may not understand the importance of your situation, but a T sign is something that I will always respect. Always. That’s a good note to end on. We hugged and I apologized again and again. I am really sorry sweet heart. Will try  my best, TRY my best for it not to happen but there is the T sign to fall back on.

But the issue of people not wanting to argue with me stayed. People don’t argue for afraid of losing with someone who may have a strong logical skill. So do not argue with him. Dam shit. I hate this. Argue dude, argue. I don’t know who will win. And it’s not about winning, its about talking. HELL DAM> same shit. So I guess now the tactic will be to lose arguments just to reassure people or tone down my arguments or what … I don’t know.

Forget that. I will figure that one, but the bright side. At least now that my kids growing up, it’s nice to have a chat like this. it was a bit emotional and we both were almost crying but we held. We grew up a bit together yesterday night. It was a pretty picture in the end. She is growing up and fast. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use the T sign again and hopefully when she does, I listen. I have been happily humbled. The only good thing about all this is that she assured me that she loves my games, she loves that I make her and her friends play, she loves the twist in the games I do. And that WE RE HAVING A PARTY THIS YEAR AS WELL. HURRAY! I am not that bad a dad at all.

Good intention, good execution, but keep the empathy at all times dude. You are after all her Dad first and a (hopefully) Great dad afterwards.

its not you, its them

We came back last week from a vacation. This one was in London and was amongst the longest I have ever had. A full 17 days away from office. That’s not a normal holiday. In fact the last time I took so long was when we went to Leh. That was more than 10 years ago. This time the occasion came in the form of a friend of mine from London. In fact she was not actually a friend to start with. Just a colleague who I got along with, very well. Swati.

Swati was one star employee with our London office. She would be very demanding and my team would hate to service her. She would want things now. And she would want a lot of articles written by me. The fund manager would invariably write some rubbish for her to circulate to the clients and then she would insist that I clean it and write something better. And invariably I would do it. The way I saw it, she was the star sales person in the team. She would be the one actually doing work and it would be my duty to at least support her. The others would irritate for no reason and she would have a genuine reason to push the bar. I gladly did so always. She would call on some issues and I would solve it. Simple. No special favours. Simple work.

From then on we became slightly better friends and one day I realized (through a mail or chat or something) that she was a reader of my blog. For some reason this blog gave her something to chew on, some meaning from time to time. That was cool by me. I am not writing all the time for some deeper meaning. And when someone takes a meaning from it, that’s nice. It makes me feel nice that she read it regularly and that it made sense. That would mean that Jispa would take some sense from it when she grew up as well. That’s a nice feeling.

So we just kept in touch and she would catch up with me when would come to India. The last time she came she wanted to see Haji Ali and offer prayers. I was the happy guide. I love doing this guide thing. If there is anything that I like as much as teaching it is being a guide. Not that I know too much, but I’d like to show the world what I know. And at that time she genuinely offered to host us in London. I didn’t think too much of the offer, but then when the circumstances turned benign early this year, I mailed her. She responded and there – we just came back from a lovely London Holiday.

We had the chance of spending a good fortnight in London thanks to her amazing hospitality. A small house, but willingly and lovingly shared. More on the vacation some other day. But you know, I used to think that people are nice to me because I was nice to them. That’s what I used to think before. Now I think I have changed my stance to the opposite. People are nice to you because they are nice people themselves. There is nothing too self-satisfying here. I don’t think she was nice to me or so many people are nice because someone did something nice and we must reciprocate. People are nice because they are like that. Some people don’t trust other people, some are inherently conserving by nature or whatever. It’s them and their choice and not yours. I am nice to a lot of people but some of them choose to be nice to me, not all. It’s not me – it’s them, stupid. Which in some way is really true. Of ocurse, your contribution is not being an ass of a person, not being mean and not being unkind. Basics are required, but the choice is always theirs. They choose to be nice. Swati and her extended family were the nicest of people we met. I am convinced that is that because they are nice to start with and not because I did something great to them. Sometimes I feel some kids give me respect as I was their teacher. But that does not explain why so many don’t. The kids who are nice to start with are nice to me. Those who didn’t care, continued not to.

This is not some stupid humility stuff, but something I suddenly felt. So when someone is nice to you, thank them for being nice and don’t think about yourself. You probably contributed by not screwing up. But they are the real heroes. They are the nice guys in the equation. So it’s only upto us to learn and emulate. Hopefully someday we will catch up. Simple copy cat.

Just yesterday someone in my team was complaining about someone else and then praising how another guy was so sweet. My recommendation was to simple copy the sweet guy. There – you are done. Simple. Thank S and M! Lovely people. I am so happy I am not a freaking racist or a misplaced patriot. I am so happy I teach my daughter to be open and love everyone and try and be nice to all and not judge. The rewards are in so many different ways. Thank you god.

suno sab ki, karo apni

I too can sing? Can I really sing. Of course not. I bray but I love to bray in style. I like singing and humming along songs. I have always been jealous of people who can sing. Dam you guys. How the voice comes out automatically in tune. These are guys who don’t need any training. Ever since they were born all they had to do was open their mouth and sing in tune. These are guys who now walk into karaoke bars and grab the mike and sing. They know all the lyrics and the tunes and just throw themselves ta the music. I never loved music enough to listen over and over and get the lyrics right as well. But one song that has stuck in head since a long time is the famous Kishore number from Door gagan ki chaon mein. I love the wordings. A father is dreaming with his child about a place he wants to take his kid to. A fairy tale place where happiness lives. It’s a lovely song. When we were kids we had started a kids club called the Blue Star club. In that we had these singing competitions among other things and one guy used to win by singing this song.  The simple tune and the easy lyrics captivated my mind and with the advent of fatherhood, I found deep meaning in it.

Last week end we were in Pune for Jispa’s swimming championship. We stay at the VITS hotel and there they have a karaoke bar. We were with friends and they naturally hit the mike. After singing along a few songs, they urged me to try my hand at it. Seeing the playlist I saw aa chal ke tujhe. The same Kishore beauty. I couldn’t resist. I let go. At first I was reluctant. Then I started to get eth hang of it and then started singing. By the end of it I was in full flow, trying to sing in tune with the pitch going up and down and generally making a complete happy fool of myself. I loved it. As usual my lovely wife was providing all the encouragement she could. She told me while I was singing that I suck at it and should stop. She made all sort of faces, she told me I am too hoarse and that it was really bad. I happily ignored her. Thanks Jasmine. But now I can rest. I always wanted to sing in public. I sang! It was a big relief. A sense of achievement. I always sang along with the radio in the car. Jasmine would always tell me to shut up.

Moral of the story – those who really care for you will offer you unbiased and well-meaning advice. They care about you and tell you the truth. So when you want to do something discuss with them and then go ahead and do or don’t do exactly what you want to do or not do.  It’s your life. Only you know what you really want to do. In end you answer to yourself. Not your mom or dad or anyone. The closer they are the greater the vested interest in you. They really care for you and hence they can’t really be unbiased as regards you. So they will tell you the truth but progress never depended on what accepted as truth. There is no real truth to start with. Do your bit. It is finally your life at stake and it’s not likely that you will get the chance to live it again.

So Jispa when you grow older and I give you well-meaning and trusted advice that is likely to be the right thing to do. Listen carefully and then just go and do your own freaking thing. JUMP!

the struggle to reach the fleeting buddha

I still find it queer (pun unintended) that a lot of us educated people are also homophobic. My favorite rejoinder is when people talk about how in today’s generation, we will have to accept whatever cast or creed the person who our kids choose as their life partners. I correct them to ‘yes, also whatever the sex of their partner is’. Invariably I get a slight pause. The person looks at me, catches my eye for a few seconds and tries to ascertain if I was cracking a joke or something. Nopes – no response. It’s obviously not cool to be a homophobic. So in the face of a high moral ground taken, the other guy invariably is silent. Yes I have a daughter and yes I am ok to the choice of her partner. Surely I will freak out if she chooses a druggie or someone I consider completely dumb. Also it’s another story that I am likely to find anyone who has an IQ slightly lower than Einstein as dumb especially if that person is dating my daughter. But definitely the sex bit is out of the equation.

So if it’s a senior person I am talking to – I always learnt to give that person an exit hatch. I allow that person to wiggle out of a potential wedge. So this time I allowed for – it will take one more generation for us to accept same sex marriage as it will take this generation to accept inter cast marriage. Hehe.

Allowing an exit hatch in a conversation is something I have learnt over a period of time. Especially when you have the benefit of strong insight or knowledge behind you or simply you have a strong enough counter opinion.  Life is too short to fight over such small issues such as a humble opinion. So many times I actively try getting an outlet. So I explain how the other point of view is valid and likely to be the right one or search for an excuse to honorably exit. Too many wars have been fought over petty ego issues.

There was one other incident somewhere related to this issue. I was being wooed for a job by a senior person recently. I declined but was happy to recommend a friend. The friend then told me that while having a conversation with the senior guy, the senior guy referred to me as ‘The Buddha’. To my mind there is no better compliment than that. Especially considering the fact that I have consciously worked on this. I laughed and told the friend that if you were to tell my mom something like this then my mom would burst out laughing. Jaimit a Buddha? HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH. I told my wife about the incident and guess what – she almost spat out her coffee and started laughing. ‘you a Buddha?’ HAHAHAHAHAHA. Sure. That’s the drift. Dam you guys!

Being a Buddha doesn’t come easily. You need economy of motion and expression and mental thought. The ability to leave things there while simultaneously trying to change them. That did not make sense did it – then it is a buddha’ism. But seriously that word struck me serious. I managed to, in some small tiny way, achieve a balance in my persona and achieved for however a fleeting moment – the concept of the Buddha. It felt really really nice. A lot of that comes in meetings when you don’t fight on ego and when you allow the honorable exit in meetings and discussion and then when you take people’s opinion and try and forge a consensus. And people like me – die a thousand deaths in the process. It is unnatural and difficult. But I am still gloating about the fact that someone referred to me as the Buddha. However fleeting a moment – you live in it for eternity… a ha that’s another one that didn’t make any sense… or did it.

And just a verse from William Blake. I recently read it and hence the show off

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And eternity in an hour.

bitch

I don’t want to be in the fight. Oh dam it. This father business is painful. Yesterday I was in the fight and scolding my daughter for something I wasn’t even sure I want. She needs to sleep as she needs to wake up in the morning for swimming. Instead she was reading a book. She went in the other room saying that she will come instantly when it’s time to sleep and till then she must read. I called her and yet she continued to read… Dam it. She needs to sleep but double dam it – she should be reading as well. Reading is good for you. But if I don’t interfere there is tremendous pressure on Jasmine. Jasmine is right now in cool off mode. She just ignores transgressions. She is like do what you want – I am tired of you. I don’t want to tell you. you are now old enough to know and handle this on your own. I am in the middle saying – no. she is not old enough, you have to keep the pressure else they won’t learn now.

So instead I get involved and do what I need to do, or rather what I am forced to do. I don’t want to be the authoritarian disciplinarian. Yesterday half way through the scolding I was losing faith in myself. But I need to get her to sleep. That is critical now. And it’s not that she won’t. She will sleep in 30 seconds of closing her eyes. If I don’t push it then Jasmine will erupt. She will burst. She manages Jispa every day, that’s a bloody tough thing to do.

So this time around Dad had to put a stupid stone on his chest and go for it. At the end of it, I looked at Jasmine and told her that this is getting too much for us. She looked at me and said, relax – one more week till the state meet and then no more morning swimming. Whew! Relax.

You know I want to be the cool guy. I want to be the guy that people love to have around and who is relaxed but if I do it all the time things would go off. The other day was the first time I had to tick a couple of kids in office off. These two would indulge in gossip all the time. Every time they would be sitting and chit chatting. I would make a joke about it and get them to work. But it would be of no avail. Then I let it rip. I got them into the room and gave them a dressing down. If they want to gossip then this is not the place for it. Every time getting together and talking in hushed tones is not the culture I want. Be loud about what you say. You can’t keep talking secrets.

I hate this secret culture. You always see these unsecure people wanting to talk secrets in office. Then when they are talking they keep looking behind their back or over their shoulder or around when they talk to you. I find that really dumb. Why do you need to talk to anyone and look around you? What is it that you are hiding or don’t want others to hear. Sometimes Jispa’s friends piss me off. They will talk to the other girls but while looking around. That is so secret secret behavior. Luckily Jispa shows no such signs nor doesn’t care or gel with this kind of stuff. Its so pissing off.

In my team I would like to root out such behavior and stomp on it. Talk, criticize but in front of the person. Don’t bitch so much, especially if it’s your team member. When someone bitches to me about someone then I assume that one will bitch about me to someone else. Tread with immediate caution!

two schools

Schooling is not the only source of learning. Parents who leave the teaching to the teachers are really giving the child the short end of the stick. You need to supplement the teaching t home. Basic concepts need to be drilled in again and again for it to sink in. Like for example let’s take the number line as the building black of mathematics. While doing some subtractions the other day Jasmine was trying to teaching her mental math. She was trying to tell her to go to the nearest ten and then jump tens and then add the ones. Like 75 – 28 is from 28 go to 30, then go to 70 and then add 5. Jispa just got a bit confused with the first 2 to reach 30. At which point I got in and then I realized that Wait – she doesn’t understand the basic concept of numbers.

I explained to her that numbers are in a number line. You have to understand them as in one straight continuous never ending line. This line does not curve. If it curves then suddenly after 100 you may find a zero again. So that will confuse the whole math. So math assumes that numbers are running straight. You have to get that right first. Now the basic building block is adding. So if there is a 4 in a number line and to get to 9 – the distance between them is 5. That simple. Minus is also nothing but adding in reverse. What needs to be added to 28 to get 75 is 75-28. And multiplication is nothing but doing addition again and again. And division is reverse of multiplication (or repeated subtraction as she told me). So think of them in a straight line. This way you will be able to understand and work with numbers better.  I think that helped her understand the numbers better in her brain. Then I spoke to Jasmine later. I told her that she doesn’t have her basics right. Jasmine told me that the number line chapter was taught to her. I said exactly – it was a chapter, it was not taught as the basic building block of mathematics. Also basic building blacks can’t be taught like this. I realize this when I teach in college. There is so much to be taught in school and college that there isn’t enough time for building blacks. You quickly teach a chapter and then you move on. Possibly the syllabus is designed properly – the building block comes in first but then they are completely forgotten. They need to come in again and again in the course of the years and that should help you learn more. In marketing – research and consumer insights must come again and again. What I find most stupid is that research lectures come in the semesters following the marketing lectures. You can’t do anything of marketing if you don’t understand research. It’s that simple. So you need to a bit of research and then you need to do a bit of marketing and then again reinforce some research again. That’s the way. Every year at the start some of the building blocks of math must be taught again – in a little more advanced manner for it to make sense.  Therein lays a problem. Also the teachers are tasked to complete the portion in a predetermined amount of time. Where is the scope for dreaming? Who is tasked to encourage dreaming and explain the practical applicability of the studies done? My solution is to have one period per week where the objective is to ask and discuss the week, and the lectures and the studies, without the pressure of marks or portion or anything else. Surely there is time for this. There are enough free periods in any case.

But for Jispa it’s me for now. Talking about everything else. She is also learning some pretty good stuff, Like doing experiments. They do it the right way. They write a hypothesis and then they have to conduct the experiment and then they are given the apparatus and are asked to do stuff on their own. Its not like our days when we went to the lab just to see the teacher do the experiment and then we had to replicate it. They are allowed to write their own hypothesis. My teacher wrote that stuff on the board and we had to copy it down. Then post the experiment if they get are unable to prove it then they write ‘we learnt that – blah blah blah’. I was explaining to Jispa that this is the perfect way to do things. Proper method is important to the madness. The discipline to write down the objective is so critical to proper thinking. So while the school is pretty cool you need the parent to reinforce the reason why its important to do what they are doing.

But at the same time you have irritating teachers, like her history teacher who on a good day will appreciate a question and on a bad day will publicly flay you for your ideas. Jispa was doing well till her teacher suddenly announced ‘this girl has bookish answers’. What was that for – the question was on what is it that civilization invented? The standard answers that kids were giving were pots and pans etc… Jispa thought a bit and said – religion. Wow. That’s a brilliant thought according to me. I was floored by her thinking. But teacher thought it was bookish. I asked Jispa about it and she said that wasn’t from any book. It was her own mind. If we were to assume that religion helped code a set of values that were necessary for order then religion is crucial to civilization. I keep thinking about it and I keep thinking that it was a brilliant answer. Forget a ten year old, most elders wouldn’t grasp this concept easily. Surely there must have been a form of faith before man settled but both would feed off each other and reach heights together. Good one kid.

Jispa was upset and I explained its ok. Most teachers wouldn’t appreciate all this. “but they told us to share our knowledge at the start”. “yes they did, but teachers are like that. I too get frustrated but still share but don’t bother too much on the outcome”. Then I told her that she has a parent teacher interaction coming up. I will raise this with her irritating teacher. Let’s see where it leads us. I am planning to ask her teacher what was wrong with this answer. And what’s bookish about it? And even if it is wrong or bookish – what’s with the public snub? I am open for a bit of confrontation. Let’s see where that leads us. Of course – all politely of course – as jasmine keeps reminding me. I hope I keep my wits about me.

Jispa gets it right

Jispa gets it right an amazing number of times. I do get the feeling that just because she is my daughter I must be seeing her in shining light. I am sure other kids are also equally smart. But then I look around the office. I see so many whackos in office who would not get it the way Jispa gets it. I am talking about abstract concepts and the ability to live with it and allow the opposites to reconcile in the mind. So you have to allow the brain to ask questions, be happy with the fuzzy nature of logic and somehow manage with it, reconcile it and even expand on it. She got inflation concepts, money supply concepts and other general economic concepts bang on.  She manages it well within her brain.

These days its history that she is pretty excited about. She has just started learning history and they have started teaching about the pre historic Stone Age era. Many years ago I had accidently been in touch with the Dead Famous series of books. They were basically biographies of famous people very well written and were funny to read.  They were in mixed format with fun facts, interspersed with simple lucid writing and a lot of cartoons thrown in. They cracked a whole host of jokes at the expense of the personality in question as well as the history teacher. A delight to read.

After that I bought a whole host of such books in the series – horrible histories, dead famous, murderous math etc. Of these one was on Stone Age. Jispa had read that and it fit nicely in her brain. She did really well and she answered a lot of questions.

In fact there were so many answers from her that her teacher suspected that she had the notes of the earlier batch. So today I got her to take the book to school to explain to her teacher that we are the irritating parents who driven enough to take the notes in advance and start teaching their kids to win early. But I felt good. The choice Jasmine and I made early on was to surround Jispa with books. Lots of books. We werent earning too much we decided that we will never have a budget limitation for books. We have budgeted on so many items. We have cut back on many but we have never ever lost the plot on books. Jispa was always free to buy whichever books she chose. Never any limitation.

Then she told me about a question she asked her teacher. She was scared of asking the teacher as the teacher is known to shoot down questions on a bad mood day. She was learning about this statue and how we believe that it is of the mother goddess.

She asked how we can be so sure this was a Goddess that was being worshiped  Good question was her teacher’s reaction. Her teacher said that we are around 90% sure that it’s a goddess but can never know for sure. Then I explained to Jispa that do understand that we are only 90% sure, that means there is a 10% chance that we are not sure and that we are wrong. History and especially prehistoric period is a difficult subject to understand. You never know what the truth is. It’s just this story seems to all add up but so can something else. After the conversation Jispa just summarized beautifully, she said – it’s just that in this story all the pieces fit well, but there can be another story in reality where also all the pieces fit , so we are never sure, it’s just one way of looking it. I was pretty stunned. That’s a lot of maturity for a ten year old. Many adults I know will fight on versions of history and believe whatever is told to them to be true – just because a text book, or worse still – a newspaper said so. But she understood that well. I was surprised, I asked her if that was her understanding or was it taught to her. It was her own understanding all right.

Then we branched off talking about probabilities and that life is all about probabilities. I explained about the coin toss. The chance of a coin landing on heads is 50% and that after 5 consecutive tosses of heads the probability of the 6 toss is also a 50% of heads. That’s probability for you but after let’s say 7 consecutive heads you seem to be better off betting tails thanks to mean revertal. How long can you have a streak that beats the average, even though you know that every individual coin toss is an independent event? We can’t predict any single toss but we know that over the long run things always average out… I dint bother to check if she really got that. If she did and if I do talk to her later about it and she gives it back, then I will let you know. That (is her teachers words) is too advanced :)

here is one extract of the book. Highly recommended as gifts as well.

keeping up with the....

Red, greens, maroons, deep blue, dark browns etc… these are the colors for the season. You have ads all over the place promoting these colors. All the shops sell these colors they are there for the taking in pants and shirts as well as shoes. The pants are tapering and tight and the shirts are tight fitting as well. The fad is well and truly upon us. They are everywhere. And such loud fashion is universal. Right from the slums to the fashion lords on high street. Such loud fashion works well for everyone. I am possibly an old man now. I find it difficult to wear these colors. Nopes these are not for me.

It’s funny how age does it to people. When I was younger I would wear the loud fashion of the season. Bright colors, deep washed denims, colored t shirts and other stuff. One of the things that I loved wearing and that elders never understood was torn jeans or simply shorts. Both were an anathema. They just couldn’t understand why on earth would a grown up want to wear shorts? Isn’t that what you wear in school and isn’t that what you outgrow and mature into pants. And this boy was trying to go back. And torn jeans? Why would anyone want to look poor or as I would rephrase as ‘grunge’. That would be so bloody stupid. Then came the cargo pants. Why would anyone want to wear a pant with so many pockets? Cargo pants came into fashion at around the time Jispa was born. It was a boon. Carrying all of Jispa’s stuff in the many pockets. They really helped me carry my fatherhood with me.

And now – I sit like a fat head refusing to understand the new colors for the clothes they wear. I find myself old, stubborn rigid and stupid. I am reminded of my professor from school. Kantaraju. He used to wear the most boring pants. Flat front, no pleats, straight fit. That must have been the fashion at time he graduated. And he stayed there in the time warp. And I look at my wardrobe and feel, I have gotten stuck. Now what should I do. Should I change with the times? Should I ring out the old and ring in the new? Should I wear mustard tight pants with matching shoes?

I guess not. But I think I must get rid of the old shirts. I am generally not that particular a dresser. I don’t really mind too much about what I wear. I have my own sense of style (or lack of) which I am comfortable with. Over the years it has deteriorated into – screw you types fashion. This is what I wear. Sometimes I again dress up nice and sometimes I just don’t bother. I have shirts in my wardrobe that are possibly 10 years old as well. The average age of my shirts would easily be around 5 years. Possibly more. The cost would also be very low compared to the market. I don’t like spending too much on clothes. But then recently I had one hard look at myself in front of my wardrobe. I think I was becoming a Kantaraju. I was in danger of becoming a relic. I needed to throw out the stuff I don’t want. There are many shirts that are there because I am too cheap to throw them. They sit there, they don’t get worn, and they lie around and gather dust, that’s it. I was telling Jasmine that I need a new wardrobe now. And that can only happen once I rebuild my collection by throwing what I don’t wear and buying stuff that I will wear. Recreate my mix and match styles, fabrics and colors. I need cottons for the summer and woolen blends for the winter. If it means budgeting a fat sum and spending then so be it, but I need to get it done.

So it’s a funny one. While I hate to sound vain and bother about my clothes, I possibly also like to look decent and in line with current trends. And at the same time I am not wearing what these kids wear. That’s not my style. I have my own and it needs to evolve. If a marketing guy doesn’t, then who will? Eh?

sweet victory

Over the weekend Jispa had her final Mumbai meet. This is the final meet in which the association selects the participants to represent Mumbai at the state meet at Balewadi Pune. The same complex which I had blogged about earlier. This place has amazing infrastructure that is ill maintained. But that’s not the story. So Jispa this year is in a disadvantage year. The top honors belong to those who are one year elder to her. A two year gap is huge amongst children and it makes a big difference to the seeding. Hence we had no hopes of qualifying. One of the interesting bits about the competition is that the association allows each kid to participate in a maximum of four races. Now that suddenly opens up the entire pool (pun unintended). Jispa traditionally had been horrible in the breast stroke. Her forte is the butterfly. All this while it meant skipping the breast stroke and the individual medley (IM) (all four strokes). Suddenly in the last couple of months, she got her breast stroke right and that meant a good chance in the IM. So she participated and baam – third place. That day I was the volunteer with the timings. I got a beautiful perspective of the sport as an official. You see it differently and you talk to the coaches around you and the entire game changes for you. Coincidently I was taking the timing for the same lane Jispa was in. There are three time keepers per lane and the median time is taken. As I saw Jispa in my lane on the other side, I told my colleagues that it’s my daughter on that side. Should I exchange or opt out. They said it was ok. So I was the time judge for the big victory. IM is considered the holy grail for all round swimmers. You get announced as the best all round swimmer. Not bad at all.

Afterwards I told her – “not bad, IM eh? The third best all round swimmer in your category eh?.” She was happy as well. Pune – state selection meet – here we come. She also got through on the 50M freestyle dash. I was the lane timekeeper for that as well. She came 5^th and that meant she goes through that one as well. The top 6 go in each race. Luckily all this got over on Saturday itself leaving the Sunday to rest and relaxation.

This was one race I was really proud to see Jispa win a medal in. It’s the final race of the year in Mumbai. The best of the best come in and give in their best. Awesome stuff. I wasn’t expecting this.

before you run, choose your race

“You know dad, boys are really irritating”. It’s that age when the boys and the girls really absolutely hate each other. Different things to do, different likes, dislikes, sports... everything. They just don’t see eye to eye on anything. Girls still have a sense of propriety, while the boys will go out of their way to disrupt any semblance of order. The way they react to situations is completely different. So I wasn’t surprised when Jispa told me that she found them painful. “Dad, we had a science lab experiment today and we were two girls and two boys. The boys just did nothing and fooled around while we two girls managed the experiment. It was so irritating.”. “Ah, yes, you know how boys are. Ignore them.”. “no. But they got all the credit for doing no work. It’s so unfair. That’s not right.”

“hah! Jispa understand the game. Right now the boys did not study or perform the experiment. They learnt nothing from it. You learnt from the experiment. You performed it and you understood it. They not only fooled around but they also got marks for it so their parents will never know that they fooled around. After wards when you go for a job, and you are competing with them, who do you think will get the job? You who understood what you did or they who did not understand. It’s in fact a good thing for you. The more people fool around the less competition you have later in life. In fact you WANT them to fool around. And GET marks for it so that they don’t realize it and improve.” The penny dropped. “Understand Jispa which race you want to win. Now or later”.

Now that’s a controversial bit of advice to give. I would normally say that one must be sweet and nice and share. I still believe that it’s important to share. I still am not telling her to be a bad person. Just telling her that every time things are not what they seem. It’s about perspective. Long run short term. What’s your perspective? And how an irritating boy who seems to be having all the fun is good for you.

I told her about one incident in college I am not likely to forget. It was b school and we had a project to get done. I was in a team with a guy and two other girls. Like usual no one really worked on the project. But the chicks worked without telling us and suddenly one day they told us that since we did not work on the project, they kicked us out. Fair. No issues on that front. I guess they were right in their way. But I was in the lurch. So I went to another guy, I think he name was Acquino or something like that. I explained my situation and he promptly took me in and convinced other team members to take me. After a few years I went out of my way to help him professionally. I met his boss and gave him strategic gyan and other information, just because it was him. I told his boss as much as well. Acquino thanked me and I told him that I merely returning his favour.

So I explained to Jispa – see what happened. There are two points to gain from being relaxed and r chilled. Selfishly it helps you both ways. So why unnecessarily stress yourself out. Let the boys remain dumb. Choose which race you want to win and then act. I think she got it.

the beginner's mind

One of the big problems of reading too much or understanding a lot is arrogance. I have blogged about this in the past. I face arrogance. That is also possibly the reason I don’t read too much fiction as well. What on earth will that give me? I guess I underestimate the fun of reading for the sake of listening to a story. A story need not have deep meaning, it seeks to merely entertain and hopefully mesmerize the reader into a world of fantasy and imagination. Imagination lets us be unbounded by reality and hence the ability to experience what we physically can’t. I would not underestimate its power in doing good to the world and to the person. I am possibly a bundle of contradictions into myself.

But over the years I have learnt to be a little less arrogant or to put it right – I have learnt to overcome / hide my arrogance.  It’s a difficult thing to do.  To put it aside and constantly say I don’t know. Or there are things I don’t know. Or to constantly look for ways to prove yourself wrong. Arrogance can be defeated. It is possible. The right way is to constantly challenge everything. Nothing is real and nothing is the whole truth. In marketing I learnt there is the truth and then there is the truth. Dharen once explained to me that while doing research on hair oil, there is science that says that oil doesn’t permeate the scalp and possibly does nothing to the brain, but there is also the truth when the consumer says that when my mother puts oil in my hair and then I sit to study I can retain more.

To my mind that is the reality. What consumers feel or experience is something that can’t be challenged. They experience the impossible. That doesn’t make him deranged and to be dismissed. That makes it an interesting point of view. There are so many things the consumer says but also the truth is the things he doesn’t say. All this put together is the whole nebulous truth - if there ever was a paradox.

Over a period of time I have constantly tried to challenge what I know and what I feel. Its dam irritating and I understand the value or the pain of being a devil’s advocate. Society depends on progress and progress means taking a stand. And the sticking to it and going forward. You never know everything is an interesting concept but it can’t stop you from taking the steps forward.

Why all this philosophy all of a sudden? Just recently I came across this term “beginners mind”. It is a term from the zen philosophy -  Shoshin (初心)

And I quote from the Wikipedia -

Shoshin is a concept in Zen Buddhism meaning "beginner's mind". It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even when studying at an advanced level, just as a beginner in that subject would. The term is especially used in the study of Zen Buddhism and Japanese martial arts.

The phrase is also used in the title of the book Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by the Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki, who says the following about the correct approach to Zen practice: In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few.

Saadat A. Khan suggests that "Beginner's mind embodies the highest emotional qualities such as enthusiasm, creativity, zeal, and optimism. If the reader reflects briefly on the opposites of these qualities, it is clear to see that quality of life requires living with beginner's mind. With beginner's mind, there is boundlessness, limitlessness, an infinite wealth."

That’s right. The beginners mind. A child like curiosity to question everything and the ability to start afresh every time. It is extremely irritating but to constantly question everything is the greatest requirement to learn and to innovate. I try and get that in Jispa but it can get also pretty irritating. And a school with the focus on teaching 30 kids and going forward to a set syllabus is not conducive atmosphere for Shosin.

Yesterday Jispa asked me that ‘you said you could help me in History and geography. Right?”. “Yup. Ask”. “So, teacher was explaining large scale maps and small scale maps. I asked teacher this question and she explained something but I did not understand – if 1:100 is a small scale map and 1:10 is a large scale map, what are the maps in between called?”. This question is seemingly easy but at eth core of it it’s a tough one. For one there are no middle scale maps and the question is not of terms but to understand that sizes are relative and the terms are actually irrelevant. It took some amount of patience on Jasmine and my side and I could hear the irritation in our tones when  at eth end of a large explanation Jispa simply says – ‘I did not understand’.

All this Shosin posin is easier said than done.

you never stop learning

Which Indian kid is so bloody dumb and living in a vacuum that it doesn’t even understand cricket? I mean cricket is everywhere. Everyone talks about it and everyone is fascinated by it and simple stuff like how many runs to score to win etc is simple stuff? Right? Well I was rudely shocked one day as one day as I came home my wife told me – Today Jispa did math in school and she couldn’t understand the example sir gave using cricket. Now they have started teaching a bit of statistics to Jispa at school and the poor prof at school used the run progression cricket graph to explain to class some kind of statistics. One morning I sat with her and tried to explain the graph to her and I realized that she would obviously not follow the graph. She doesn’t even know what the game of cricket is all about. Simple stuff like – the first side scores the runs and the second side have to score them to win. That basic stuff is missing. That’s when I explained the game, the basic rules, the scoring etc. It was an eye opener for me and her. I never realized that not having a TV at home could make such a massive impact. Jispa does watch some cricket. She does sit in front of the TV at times when the matches play at a friend’s place or at the gymkhana. But she takes away different things from it I guess.

After I explained the run rate, I had to explain the average run rate required to win, the concept of chasing at a run rate etc. then she asked me about another graphic she saw on TV. The bowlers graphic on where they pitch the ball. Short, good length, full, Yorker. The I explained that to her and I had to explain why good length is considered good. To explain the concept of pitching the ball, I made her stand in one place and bowled a few spinning balls at her. I showed her how at good length she has the least amount of time to react to a spinning ball and at full length she just doesn’t need to wait for it to pitch and swerve. So in a short span of around an hour she went from nothing to understanding the nuances of pitching a ball. That’s always the fun part with Jispa.

She has learned to ask and visualize and seek. She catches things well and is not tired by understanding. I see many kids tired when I try and explain. They give up. So many adults simply give up. They have no patience for learning an understanding. After a point of time, you see them disinterested. I always wonder how on earth can that happen. If someone is talking from their experience how is it that you can find it not interesting. You must ask, provoke, disagree but a conversation cannot be ignored. Of course monologues are difficult but a conversation with a person on his specialization – how is that ever limiting.

Conversations are so important. Over the weekend I was helping a friend do something. In fact he was a senior guy in my company and he put in his papers to start something of his own. He wants me in his firm but for various reasons I am not too keen. Nevertheless I agreed to help him out. And when I did, I helped with proper professional ardor. I took notes, thought and worked hard over the weekend. I gave ideas and listened patiently. Jasmine was like – you should be paid for this. Its ok, I told her. I learnt a lot in the process. If I have to help someone with my skills I must listen patiently to a lot of people, understand markets, behavior etc. and I got to do that. I wasn’t just supposed to lecture, I was supposed to meet understand and use my brains. For that I don’t mind not getting paid. Free work is good. It will in some time come back to you. Either in terms of the good will gained or more realistically and immediate – the learnings gained. No one can take that from you. That is important.

turn it around

A ha. We successfully organized the Matunga gymkhana open swim meet. A grand success by any measure and people came on congratulating us. It was an experience like none before in any meet of any kind in the city. The people were mesmerized and couldn’t stop talking about it. The swimming department now walks with a little extra bounce in their steps. But when you coldly step back and look at it, what was it actually that made it so big. The swimming pool on the day belonsg to the officials. At every meet you have the same commentator, the same officials and the same events. Ours was also the same. But the difference lied in the packaging. There were large banners outside welcoming the participants and at the entrance was the clincher – the greeters. Borrowed from a bit from Walmart and a bit from the Singapore immigration authorities. At Walmart you have greeters when you come in to shop. At most other immigration checks they give you a cold stare, but at Singapore there is a bowl of fox sweets greeting you. In line with that we had apples and bananas awaiting all participants. So at the entrance a team was waiting with the fruits. In addition we gave them a folder with the schedule. And if that was not enough we also gave them two iron rich bars which we bought from an NGO. So that just shook them out. We then put enough cut outs around the place and just before the swimming pool a huge massive 36X6 banner greeted them. All these were of course done in corporate style with amazing visuals. With so much stimulation at the start, I left very little at the main pool area. That was taken over by the sponsors. We also gave space to a pro shop, a free stall for the isotonic drink guys to freely sample their products and some other stuff.

For those expecting a boring placid swim meet were completely shocked. There was shade all around with the pandals being erected and fans installed. I was rather amused by the reactions of the people. I thought this was par for the course. This stuff is simple. Like the checkerboard backdrop against the winner’s podium got a lot of comments and people thought it was really cool and ‘IPL style’.

I can still think of a million different things that I want changed from next time around. I want a different way to submit entries. I want to email stuff and want IDs, I want to have a better registration, I want better side games for the kids, I want a relaxing lounge, I want a winners picture booth,  I want flowers for the winners, I want better food stalls selling better food and drink for the champions, I want better invites, etc etc… a lot is still left to be done. The dream is to have a small souvenir shop for the event as well, selling high quality merchandise branded – the Matunga Gymkhana Open Swim Meet. That will be so bloody cool. That’s when the brand will be really built.

Ah well. I am a dreamer. But only if you can dream it can you possibly do it. Dream on. There are so many things to be done at this meet. Next year I am definitely going to ask for a bigger budget. I will have a better campaign to bring in the entries and hype the bloody thing before the event. I want to run it in style. Raise the bar so much that people have no clue what to expect next. I want to make it really really BIG.

But while I am talking about the event… I too took part in one race. The under 40 men’s freestyle. In my time trial I dived in and swam really fast. I reached the other side and turned. Not knowing the tumble turn I wasted precious seconds. While coming back I was tiring and slowing down. I hadn’t eaten well and the energy was sapping. I emerged second best by a small margin. I then heard the commentator explaining that I messed up the turn and lost there. I saw the video and everybody also told me – I was leading till the turn. My daughter was at the finish line waiting for me. She greeted me and took the time from the officials. She told me – not bad –“you did 37 seconds. You did two seconds better than your last time”. She was doing a Jaimit to me. Okies.

I always wanted to learn the tumble turn. But I tried it once and the water just rushed into my brain. I hated it. Jispa kept telling me to learn but I just couldn’t try. Now I have additional incentive. My knees have robbed me of my running victories but I guess I found another race. Tumble turn it is then. To learn the tumble turn and to push myself hard.  Jispa keeps telling me to learn but because I have the power in the equation I am unable to push myself. If the roles were reversed I would have harassed her, but the poor thing can’t do that to me. I must set that example and do it. I must learn the tumble turn. It’s not just about the turn but it also my duty as a parent to show that I can do it. It an example.

being right

Jispa’s school is getting on my nerves. It’s not her school in particular that’s to blame it’s the dam bloody education system. I have blogged earlier that our education system does not allow the child to ask questions and probe or even confront the teacher. It is a hopeless power equation in school. The teacher is all powerful and the rest of the students or anyone else can take it or leave it. Last year we let go when her teacher corrected her wrongly on the meaning of the term ‘light year’. At Jispa’s behest we kept quiet and did not ask her to go to school with the right definition. But yesterday I knew I had to knock some defiance into Jispa.

I was waiting to have dinner with jasmine while she was trying to do Jispa’s home work. I dozed off when Jispa woke me up call me. I went outside and I saw Jispa and Jasmine at opposite sides of the homework. Jasmine was explaining how it should be done and Jispa was sticking to exactly what her teacher had asked her to do… exactly by the letter. In Jispa’s way the sticking activity was impossible with the pictures she had. Jispa was explaining exactly how her teacher wanted it. Jispa was adamant. Normally I just let Jispa get her way and tell Jasmine to give in. I remember my dumb arse teachers. They would give very clear specific instructions. They obviously wanted regimentation and refused to see anyone move away from the straight and narrow.  They did not want anyone straying and their job was to produce clones. Creativity was not encouraged or tolerated. There was only one way to do a particular job. As Ken Robinson argued in his TED video, that this was a product of the industrial age where students were needed who could simply mass produce goods and services and fall in line with the systems and processes set up.

I had kept quiet for long. I knew the pain of standing up and sticking to your gun. Once my dad was called into school as I argued with my teacher. I knew I was right and she was just being a pain. You just can’t win. But yesterday I had enough. I explained to Jispa, “look Jips, I understand and I hear you. I know what your teacher ordered you to do. You are right in explaining that to us but in principal what your mom is doing is also right. It is correct given that you have larger pictures (the whole argument was on how to arrange pictures on a time line). Last year your teacher taught you some wrong stuff on the light year etc, I kept qiet but this year you are in the fifth standard. It’s time for you to stand up. This is not wrong and if your teacher scolds you for it, I will talk to her or write her a letter explain how that is not the right thing to do and how this time line is not incorrect. This is the way it’s done in so many places on the internet and encyclopedias. If your teacher tells you that you are wrong don’t just take. Talk to her politely and tell her that you did this with your dad and he explained it to you how it was right.”. Jispa told me that she wouldn’t be able to tell her that. At which time I explained to her “Listen, I am not telling you to talk rudely to her. But you must be polite and yet explain to her why you are thinking the way you are thinking and that you are not wrong but don’t be rude. Even Gandhi told the British that they were wrong but he did so with a lot of respect. Didn’t you see that in the movie?” The penny dropped. She was better. And she got it done in the way her mom was helping her.

I looked at Jasmine. It takes two to do parenting. It’s not possible for one to have all the patience required. One is near the problem and tends to get exasperated; the other is a bit away and can take a bird’s eye view. You clearly need two to work.

But more importantly I think gave Jispa the courage to stand up for what she thinks is right. When my dad got called to school, he heard me and told me that you weren’t wrong in saying what you said but you can’t argue like this with the teacher. That is the wrong thing to do. That’s the story I explained to Jispa as well. Say it but say it with respect. And you have to stand up for what you think is right. I think not getting Jispa to explain that light year was a wrong lesson to teach her.

You have to stand up and not bow down to a teacher. I explained to Jispa that listen – don’t worry. We pay school fees and the teacher is expected to teach you right things. She can’t just scold you for something that isn’t wrong. You go ahead and be respectful and I will back you up. You have to assert yourself. Jispa is an amiable kid. She doesn’t like confrontation. She is a sweet heart with no interest in girl politics. But I guess it’s time for her to assert. She is beginning to do that with us and we aren’t taking it too well. I try and avoid a show down and take it diplomatically. I try and select the fights and the issues. The trick is to get her to assert on the right issues and be smart about it all. Talking to people in the right way while being what you want to be is life!

a tough ask?

How many questions should you ask? I was just reading an article that questions the number of questions that are being asked today by students in school. Read on: Asking questions is essential to learning. That was an essential lesson from one of history's first great teachers, Socrates. Or, as the wise Rabbi Steven Greenberg puts it: "we train children at the Passover seder to ask why, because tyrants are undone and liberty is won with a good question." And yet, children are not asking questions nearly enough. In fact, data from the U.S. school systems tells us that the average high school student asks one question of substance per month in a classroom. Yikes!

This is particularly alarming if we consider the skill set that is required for success in the coming decades. Hal Gregersen, the co-author along with Clayton Christensen of the recent book The Innovator’s DNA, tells Big Think that the world we’re entering over "the next five, ten, fifteen, twenty years – I can’t imagine it being easier, simpler, less uncertain than what we’re living in today."So what is the best way to "unlock the solutions to that wild terrain," as Gregersen puts it? "We need to build this capacity in ourselves and the people around us to ask the right question." Source: http://bigthink.com/big-think-tv/the-future-is-uncertain-its-time-to-start-asking-the-right-questions

Yes you need to ask questions. Tons of questions. I always had questions on my mind and in classrooms I was known to be the irritating one. Actually – few teachers loved me and a few them possibly didn’t. some thought I was asking questions just to prove I was smart or I was disturbing the class. I remember one question that was completely dismissed by my science teacher. She was taking I think about chlorine or flourine (nice periodic table link http://www.ptable.com/)which is so reactive that it reacts with anything and that she said it is used on rockets as fuel. I may be wrong in recollecting the gas but my question was that if it’s so reactive and reacts with everything then how do you store it? Oops. That one was dismissed. In another science class the idiotic teacher called me to the desk twice or more since I was participating ‘too much’ in class. She called me in and tried to tell me that if I know too much I should take the lecture myself. What a Bitch. I want to meet her and show her this video.

Ask questions ask many questions. Ask them all the time. Keep asking. I think I am losing the art of asking those questions which I used to as a child. In my meetings I ask, and I don’t really mind admitting that I don’t know too much; but higher level meetings work without asking questions. People don’t want to show any of their insufficiencies I guess. I don’t know. I keep telling people – ask – ask more questions. Think a bit. But idiots just don’t. My own team just doesn’t want to ask any questions. Is it because they don’t think enough or they can understand enough or is it because they feel shy or what? Are you too dumb to ask or you are too smart? Why is it that I am the one asking most of the questions.

I think the author on top is right. In school with the grades etc – you are taught to simply learn the portion by rote. That is what gets rewarded, not asking questions. That is irrelevant for grades or for anything. In my class when I teach I try and encourage people to think or ask questions; but its so bloody tough. Years of training can’t be simply undone by one stupid professor.

The other day Jispa was really upset and there was something bothering her. She was having a fight with us. I have a different style of fighting with her. I talk to her and then I continue to keep channels of communication open. I am firm on the issue but soft on everything else. So I asked her what was bothering her. She refused to say. Then I told her that whatever it is, she has the freedom to tell me anytime. I am there for her. And then offhand I asked her – “take a guess – how many time in Jasmine’s life has she had a conversation with her dad. A nice conversation”. She looked at Jasmine. The answer is never. Jasmine has never ever had a ‘conversation’ with her dad. They speak but there is no conversation. I told her that I remember a few conversations with my dad and those I cherish. “So how many have you had with your dad” I asked her. “Hundreds”, she replied. “So then” I said “you have something your both parents didn’t. You can always talk to us”.

Well at the end of it all. She still dint tell us what was bothering her. Well… Ten years olds are also equally complicated. But I respect that and she sorted the issue in her brain, or at least I hope so.