Kite Muntai?

Thoughts on commerce II

2012-02-03T23:55:00.000+05:30

When you learn about financial markets, you get to hear some everyday words used in incomprehensible ways. Like credit or short or stock or derivative. There are two terms that you don't hear too much unless you work with the markets, but are very integral and precious to anyone in the "markets" - market making and price discovery. And these lead you to a third which is a lot more common - liquidity.

Market making
I didn't quite understand the term when I first understood in class. It only sank in when a trader told me "this bond is not very liquid, but I'm trying to make a market in it". He was literally "making" a market, by calling up a lot of people and asking if they want to buy or sell that bond.

We are of course used to market makers in non-financial areas too - the bhajiwaala who buys off the farmer/other middle man and asks people if they want to buy off him. The broker who connects house buyers and sellers. Shop keepers, malls, etc. Even the advertising agency that informs you of products that are available - thus introducing the sellers with the buyers.

The costs for a market maker are in the time spent in this activity, the risk of not being able to sell his stock (in cases where he buys outright without assurance that someone will buy from him) and other incidentals like renting a physical space convenient to buyers and transportation costs of bringing things from the seller to the buyer. Payment for this takes many forms - brokerage, commission, agency fees, profit margin etc. And this cost has to be covered by the value created. In other words, it is only worth creating a market, if the additional value creation is higher than the costs of creating that market. For instance, if a basket of oranges gets a price of 20 rupees in the village and 80 rupees in the city, it is worth bringing it to the city if the transport cost + your opportunity cost (of doing something else with the time) is less than 60 rupees.

Middle men are a much maligned lot. Sometimes justly. But if it was not for the middle man, value would never be created. Supposedly, Bill Gates bought DOS from Seattle Computer Products for $50,000 (at least, that is what the movie Pirates of Silicon Valley said) and made millions of it. Did Seattle Computer get cheated? Did IBM and other companies that bought DOS? They all made money from it, including the end users of those computers - and they made money because Microsoft made it possible.

Price discovery
Price gets confused with worth often. But while the worth of something can differ from person to person, the price is the same all across the market. Theoretically, the price is that point at which you can match the most number of buyers and sellers - because that is when you also maximise value. In other words, if 3 buyers think a basket of oranges is worth 60, 50 and 40 respectively and 4 sellers think the basket is worth 30, 40, 50 and 60 - the price will be set somewhere between 40 and 50. A price of 60 will get you one buyer and 4 sellers - which is only one transaction and maximum value of 30 (the seller valuing the basket at 30 sells to the buyer valuing at 60). A price of 30 gets you 3 buyers but only one seller -and again, the maximum value created is 30, in one transaction. But a price of 40 or 50 gets you 2 buyers and 2 sellers each. Maximum value created: 60 + 50 - 30 - 40 = 40.

Getting the price right is very important to every market and every market maker. The best markets are the most responsive ones, that can just the price as soon as they realise that there are most sellers or more buyers. When prices are wrong, a lot of value is destroyed and the markets can also become dysfunctional. When food gets subsidised, for instance, there are more buyers than sellers in the market. Suppose the price of oranges was fixed at 30, in the previous instance. Only one seller but three buyers - which means 2 buyers have to empty handed in spite being willing to pay the price. There is not incentive to the other sellers to sell their oranges, even though there are buyers willing to pay their price.

Price is even more important to people who "take risk on their books". In other words - people who buy the products before re-selling them. For them, guessing what they will be able to re-sell at is what determines if they will be making any money that day. Or eating a lot of oranges in stead.

You too will grow old

2011-12-06T21:50:00.001+05:30

said the author of one of my favorite songs. She didn't say that the your world will grow old too.

When I was little and imagined growing up, I thought of me as a grown up and much more powerful in the same childhood world. I didn't realise that as I grew older, so did the people, and the things and the technologies. Even philosophies and ideologies. A friend told me that her age hit her when she came home from 4 years at college, to see her uncles suddenly older than when she had left. It is only now I know what those annoying uncles and aunts meant when they told an adolescent me "Ooh, you used to be so little". They were not being condescending or stating the blindingly obvious. What they were actually saying was "Gosh, I am growing old!". I know, because it is only memories of how foolish they sounded that stops me from making such comments now.

[Morbid tone alert]

"Old people are precious. Don't pack them away to old age homes. Keep them with you to enrich your lives." My great uncle said this last month. He died yesterday. After close to 80 years of a full and active life of service. Another of my childhood icons was gone. And with him was gone his store of experiences and impressions. Knowledge, relations, memories. Erased from the earth. And I think of all the others in my family who have also passed on and think of how easy it is to let someone precious slip from your life without ever knowing what made them tick, what lessons they had learnt and what experiences had shaped them in a long and eventful life. Each one a vibrant, living and fascinating book that was never read. Because you never thought it would one day be taken away from you.

This year has been rather full of vanishing icons. Large public figures of my generation - Steve Jobs, Jagjit Singh, Shammi Kapoor, Dev Anand. And in the years to come, it will be more frequent. First heroes and icons. Then contemporaries. And, if you are not one of those contemporaries, then it will be some of your juniors. And it will not make any sense that you saw a whole life pass in front of your eyes.

Nothing prepares you for this. The eventual passing on of everything familiar. The constantly changing world, while you stay static. What must it feel like to be the last of your generation? To remember a world no one else alive knew? Or do you learn to accept? Do you learn the lesson that no one would teach you because it is not one of the things we like to talk about - death happens. A permanent end. While we cannot live expecting it or even preparing for it (except to make a will), it will one day come along to everything you knew - houses, books, companies, technologies, friends, relatives. Or maybe they don't tell you this because knowing it doesn't help. The difference between going concern accounting and liquidation accounting.

Old people know this. That is one of the things that make them precious.

[RIP Fr V]

Thoughts on commerce I

2011-11-29T21:33:00.001+05:30

Value by exchange
Commerce is amazing. It creates value by the simple action of re-distributing goods and services. Say you have 10 apples and by the 5th apple, you are quite sick of eating apples. Your neighbour has 10 oranges and the same problem. You exchange 5 apples for 5 oranges and both of you are happier than you were before. Or, you have 5 hours of free time on your hands. You could laze away that time or you could weed out your neighbours garden, for which he will offer you a basketful of oranges. What is more valuable to you - 5 hours of rest or a basketful of oranges?

Most commerce is a flow of goods and services to where they are more valued. Some people think that commerce is a fight for money and worth. But that is not true commerce. In the end of each transaction, if each side is not happier than before, then it is a failed transaction.

Money to help exchange

When you are dealing with 7 billion people, each of whom has a different assortment of goods and services and wants a completely different set of goods and services, things get tricky. That's where money becomes handy. A common unit of valuation to compare with.

Valuations and irrational selfishness

Unfortunately, the very efficiency money brings about becomes a problem. Now you have to pin down a value to everything. Suppose your neighbour thinks having his garden weeded is worth 40 bucks to him and you think the 5 hours of time and effort it will take is worth 30 bucks to you - there is a potential value creation of 10 bucks. But how do we apportion that 10 bucks? Half and half? Or do we look at whose need is bigger? How many times has a customer walked away from a pair of shoes that were worth 400 rupees to her (if she had tried to put a value to it before walking away) just because the shopkeeper would not bring the price down from the 150 rupees he had marked it at, at his roadside store? The transaction is no longer a simple matter of valuation. It is a tussle for the value at hand. A transaction fell through and no value was created - because they couldn't agree on how to divide the value that would have been created.

If you were allowed to just pay in barter - maybe pay in a shoe rack of unassigned value, you would probably do the transaction. Just as you would exchange apples for oranges when they have not been evaluated, because then you can think only of what you want and what you are giving away and how they compare in their worth to you.

Valuations and irrational unselfishness
Another cause for sub-optimal transactions is the incorrect concept of an "unfair price". There is only a price you are willing to pay and a price you are not willing to pay. If someone is asking for a ridiculous (in your opinion) price, it only means that it is worth that ridiculous price to him. While I can understand how a self serving bias can lead a customer to expect "fair" prices, I find it strange that so many people use this principle against themselves. Suppose you feel you are underpaid. You think that you should be paid 40% more. But asking for a 40% raise is not "reasonable" and so you don't. That is a failed transaction. If what you are getting (a salary + perks) is not more than you are giving (time away from family and fun things you could do + effort), then you should not be in this transaction.

Strangely, it is a misapplication of the concept of justice that interferes with the creation of value in both cases. Any price that creates value for both sides is a fair price.

(to be continued)

In the Shadows

2011-10-17T21:47:00.000+05:30

Every so often, someone has to become invisible, so that we can live with ourselves. Like the beggar on the road, whose plight can make your small worries seem insignificant. Or the physically deformed person who reminds you of how easily that could have been you. Even the friend who is more successful than you and so reminds you of your failures.

You don't see because it is too difficult. And gradually, blindness becomes the truth. Or worse - you distort the truth to believe that what you see is not true.

There's this obscure author called Madeleine Brent, who makes you face up to truths you didn't know about yourself, through the unlikely medium of gothic romances. Who makes you realise, like nothing else can, that it is not what happens to you that defines you, but how you let it shape you. There is the potential for great goodness and heroism everywhere. And it is those of us who look but can't see who are more to be pitied.

What are you really selling?

2011-09-30T18:14:00.002+05:30

Rs 750 for 500 page book on finance and strategy - waste of money

Rs 750 for desk decoration that sends out the message to your boss that you are dedicated and career oriented - paisa vasool.

Some books should never go digital.

India One

2011-09-23T13:53:00.001+05:30

Large corporates face the challenge of creating independently functioning international teams, that still feel part of the whole and relate to their counterparts across divisions and geographies. I've seen several of these efforts across 4 different MNCs. Given India faces this challenge on a daily basis, I wonder what we can do to give India that sense of unity, the corporate way....

1. Choose a colour and a logo for all literature and design - The tricolour serves the purpose very well and we're coming up with design variations for themes like the 50th independence anniv.

2. "Region of the month" - Produce monthly videos highlighting the culture, tourist spots, history of a different region every month. Esp for remote regions.

3. Student-exchange programs - Make it mandatory for students to spend some part in another region? Or learn one language they don't currently need? Or at least summer camps in other states. Over protective mothers can come along.

4. Culture-exchange programs - Artist travel across the country displaying their works. Film festivals in major cities. Cross region tie-ups for fusion works.

5. Promote immigration - help people move cities within India. Create online starter packs to understanding a city, key areas within the city, basic phrases in local language, cultural centres, house hunting help, etc. Use the the number of immigrants as an indicator of how developed a city is.

6. News around the nation programmes - Headlines across different regions in the country. A great way to see what is important to different communities.

Pet peeve - 3 good reasons

2011-09-01T21:43:00.001+05:30

Why does everyone say "Give me 3 good reasons for this?". Why 3 when one good reason should suffice?
"We must do this or we will all die!!"
"Uh huh! And the other two reasons are?"

The short route to nowhere

2011-08-18T21:42:00.003+05:30

If there's one thing I've learned in the last 4 years, it's that hardwork is, afterall, inescapable. It is the law of arbitrage. Intelligence can make you can work smarter and buy yourself some time out - till the rest of the world catches up. And then you are back to hardwork till the next good idea.

There have been some people who have managed to maintain this low work to high returns ratio for some time - such as the higher classes in many societies that benefit from a social system where the lower classes work so they can live in idleness. But eventually that revolution comes along and then it's off with your head. Or the copycats of successful business models from other regions and remixers of old but unknown classic songs. Eventually they become the victim of their success as subsequent originators of good business models decide to replicate their success in your market before you can copy it. And music directors who release their songs along with remixes before you can get to it. Finally, end it comes down to your skill - can you implement the business model better than the original? Can you remix the the song better?

Given the undying fascination of "something for nothing", as Michael Lewis neatly puts it, we see many people devoting all their time and effort in discovering the next shortcut. Anything to avoid real work. Like most things, this is a good idea in the world of perfect competition as it leads to better efficiency by harvesting the low hang fruit first. But when you move it out of the perfect markets, it turns into an ugly monster that threatens everything around it.

The socialist regime post independence was one of these shortcuts and it blighted the lives of several generations of Indians. Improving the quality of Indian products is tough - so we will ban imports and make people buy bad products. Ensuring that people have the skills to find jobs is difficult, so we will put in reservations and make people difficult to fire, even if they are not productive.

The indiscriminate expansion of IITs and IIMs is also a shortcut. Building a strong education system that produces quality students who can prove their worth involves the hard work of setting up the infrastructure of schools and faculty and course material. Instead of that, lets piggy back on the brand of the few successful brands.

The Jan Lokpal bill is another shortcut. Making a personal stand against bribery every time you are faced with it is too difficult. Determining who the honest politicians are and voting only for them is difficult. Pushing for long term measures such as reforms and transparency in government is difficult because it means we will have to figure out how the government works and how it can be improved. So let's just form a committee and make it their problem. And in 10 years, when the Lokpal is full of corrupt and power hungry people, let us go on a fast again for another supervisory body that will ensure they are doing their jobs.

Some shortcuts only go in circles.

The rules of the game

2011-07-28T10:11:00.000+05:30

I just read this very very scary story about abused trust: http://techcrunch.com/2011/07/27/the-moment-of-truth-for-airbnb-as-users-home-is-utterly-trashed/. But at every word, I'm surprised that this was a one off and not the norm. When I first heard of Airbnb, and when I watched the movie The Holiday, I wondered how anyone would be okay with letting a stranger into their home. I think this is part of the Indian psyche - we are rather mistrustful. When my sister visited Rome, she said she had no problem with the famed pick-pockets, because she was just as careful as she is in India. Her take was that westerners judge everyone harshly only because they are so careless themselves.

But why are we like this? Why are we so unwilling to trust? I think part of it is that most Indians do not feel a kinship with other Indians. Especially when the other Indians speak a different language. In our heterogeneous society, there is a large difference in motives and payoffs that makes your neighbour's actions difficult to predict. So we resort to stereotypes and prejudices. We talk of the money-grubbing ways of one community, the flashiness and another and the laziness of the third. And we set ourselves apart from the rest.

This is not to say that Indians are not capable of mind boggling generosity. I know of people who've housed their neighbours during a terror attack. People who give freely of their time and money to help strangers in need. And the disillusionment that follows when this kindness is abused. That is perhaps the other side of the story. Our sense of disconnectedness makes us more likely to betray trust. In some cultures, it is even considered the 'smart' thing to do. Everyone must look out only for themselves and you get what is coming to you.

In effect, we have people playing a game with two different sets of rules.

In spite of the experience of the traveller's scary experience, I do not believe that excessive wariness is a good idea. That is what leads us to a Nash equilibrium rather than Pareto optimality. That is the reason why people rush to the counters instead of formally a more efficient queue or why we spend so much money on defensive security, rather more productive R&D. I don't know the way out of this. Maybe it is a matter of socio-economic evolution (like the higher sense of camaraderie in Mumbai) or maybe smarter preventive practices that nip the problem in the bud (for instance, if Airbnb made travellers liable for all damage that occured during their stay and help on to credit card numbers to ensure they would pay up).

Or as the traveller said when she compared Airbnb with Craiglist - maybe it is just a matter out of spelling out the rules so you know what game you are playing.

No stone unturned

2011-06-11T01:03:00.006+05:30

The manager looked out the glass door with relief as he saw the workers across the road clearing away the debris. It looked like the work was finally over and soon he could expect to see some of his customers return to the coffee shop. The construction on the site would start soon enough, but it was a breather. The place used to be brimming with people earlier, but there was only one customer in the shop now and the manager looked at him curiously. He'd been sitting like that for 3 hours now, ever since he walked in the door with his back pack and laptop. He seemed to be dressed for travel, but he just sat there and drank coffee after coffee and alternatively read a book or looked out the window.

---------------------------------------

He knew the shop manager was staring at him, but that didn't bother him now, as it would have just three months back. He had all the horror of making a spectacle of himself that everyone who has grown up in a small community has. The only time he'd stepped out of this small town was during the annual visit to the grandparents during his summer vacations. When he graduated and his friends moved to bigger cities for work or further education, he had insisted that he would stay here, even if it meant a lower pay and a dead-end job. When his sister got married and moved away and his parents retired and decided to move back to the small town they came from, they sold the big house he'd grown up in and he moved to a smaller apartment close by. This city was part of what defined him and he couldn't imagine leaving it ever.

Till three months back. That was the day he read that they were pulling down this ancient bungalow to build an office complex. It was not a very noteworthy event. The bungalow had been falling to pieces for years. It was not noteworthy and no one lived there anymore. It was close to the heart of the city and it made sense to have a new gleaming office building there. But it came as a surprise to him. It was just that he had always seen that bungalow standing where it was. Now that he thought about it, he had seen that bungalow almost every day of his life. He had passed it daily on his way to school and college and now he passed it on the way to work. It was just one of those things that was always there.

He told his colleagues about it that day, but they didn't seem to get the significance. Yes, they had seen the house, but it wasn't such a great house, was it? And the conversation moved on to other things. As he looked around he realised that almost all of them had only moved to this city in the last 5 or 6 years.

A strange disquiet got hold of him for the whole day and he worked as if in a dream. When he went home, he sank into a couch by the window and sat looking out for hours.

The realisation had come to him suddenly that while he never left his beloved city, the city had left him. His friends had mostly moved away. The few in the city lived far away, driven to the suburbs by constantly rising real estate prices, and they hadn't met in years. None of his childhood haunts had survived the onslaught of progress, because he lived in one of the first areas to have succumbed to development. Gone was the deserted factory where he had played hide and seek; the old cinema hall where he'd watched masala movies from the front row. The college had built a new wing to accommodate more students. The school had renovated and put in fancy new equipment in their sports grounds. Since his parents moved, family never visited and reunions were in the ancestral home. The bungalow, which was the lone symbol of his previous life, had unconsciously become his anchor and now suddenly he was adrift.

Curiously, he felt no sorrow. He only felt off-balance. The place he was being loyal to just didn't exist anymore. He thought about his life like he was watching it from the outside, for he felt no connection to it anymore. It was a good life, with good friends and a decent job. But there was nothing holding him to it and as he sat, he began to feel impatient. Sometime before dawn, he seemed to come to a decision and with a sigh, he went to sleep.

The next day, he quit his job. He told them he'd found a better job, because no one would believe anything else anyway. He started winding up his affairs and searching. He looked in all the most exotic places he could think of - places he knew nothing about except for the name. He applied to volunteer in Africa, to teach English in South-East Asia, to join a tech-firm in Australia, to become a clerk in the Middle East. If he must be a foreigner, he figured it would be more fun in a foreign place. After two and a half months, he got a job as the representative of an Indian company in Japan. He was to join in a month's time.

He'd come by every day to see how the demolition of the bungalow was coming along. Today was the last day and he came armed with music and reading material. He'd said his goodbyes to surprised friends and stunned family. He'd sold his apartment and furniture and given away most of his clothes. He meant to spend the next two weeks on a ramble through the country, visiting the friends he could trace. All he had to do now was say goodbye to his city. As the workers cleared away the last stone, he stood up and gave it a salute.

Then he paid the bill, picked up his bags and walked away. It was the first day of the rest of his life.

Tabula rasa

2011-01-19T00:20:00.001+05:30

I've traveled to the US and UK on work a total of 4 times. And every time I step out of the airport, I get this rush of freedom. A sense that here, I can be whoever I want. Anything is possible.

I thought this was because of the emphasis on personal freedom by western cultures. But of late I have realised that life is much the same everywhere. Nasty gossips, the cultural mores and the expectations of society, you find them in every culture, although the specifics might change.

The reason I feel so free is that I am a foreigner. I don't know anyone there. The people around me will probably excuse my eccentricities on the count that I don't how to act in their society. The same reason that we excuse absurdly dressed, click happy tourists in India and we never take offence at noisy bawling kids who stare at you at family functions.

To a lesser extent, it is the feeling I get in Bombay. Especially in Bandra. That you could be anybody, dress anyway. And as long as you don't cause anyone trouble, you are free to do as you like. A wonderfully liberating feeling. You could have spiked purple hair. Or talk with an accent. Or wear the fashions of 20 years back. No one will look at you twice.

Strangely enough, we also are more tolerant of our own people going abroad and doing strange things. It is scandalous to wear a spaghetti top here, but it's perfectly acceptable to post pictures of your swimsuit clad self in Florida. Which is perhaps why we have so many average Indians excelling when they go abroad. The sudden ability to choose from a larger range of options - like someone lifted the box that previously bound you.

So, if most of our behaviour is because of our conditioning, the expectations of all around us, what would we be in a void? If everyone thought for themselves, instead of following the mode, would be have progressed faster? How much have we lost or gained because of our unconscious social policing?

Every once in a while you get a rebel who just doesn't understand the concept of fitting in and stays just the person he or she essentially is. Instead of looking them and wondering why they act like that, maybe you can pause and wonder, "Could I be like that?"

Undecolonizable

2010-10-19T23:52:00.007+05:30

I stumbled across this article today, a letter on the changing social scenario in faraway Kenya, and couldn't help seeing parallels with our own India. Binyavanga Wainaina talks of many different things including the growth of a feeling of hopefulness in a country used to dysfunctional bureaucracy, of people divided in to occupations based on their ancestry, a creeping sense of superiority of your own tribe. But mostly, he is talking of the leftover traces of colonialism, and making his own peace with it.

I do think Indians are mostly easy going and we needed to spend the first half of the 20th century whipping ourselves into a frenzy of rage over British rule. Enough of a rage that we could finally muster the strength to free ourselves. The after effects of that frenzy continue till date. We seem to be in a strange situation where we are still smarting at the indignity of having been ruled by outsiders for close to two hundred years and yet hold on to our 'white fetish'. And then there is the need to build our own identity. Many people seem to reconcile these conflicting demands with the rejection of all things 'western' and a cry to go back to our roots. Our roots being anything that happened before the Europeans came to India.

India (or whatever it was before the establishment of English rule) has seen some very tough times and rulers we would like to forget. Like Aurangzeb or Tughlaq. But no one would deny that they are very much a part of our Indian legacy and played a large role in making us who we are today. Maybe it will take the same amount of time for us to reconcile ourselves to the fact that British rule did happen and while it was perhaps regrettable, it has played a role in shaping us.

Now, to what I really wanted to talk about - my name. Sheeba D'Mello. Specifically, the D'Mello part of it.

Names are very important in India, just as they are in Kenya. A friend's 5 word name was made of the name of her ancestral village, her house, her father's first name, her name and finished with her family name. To the people in the know, it was a bio-data. A name can tell you which part of the country you are from, your mother tongue and most importantly - your caste. A friend told me how her surname (Rao) could confound most nosy elderly ladies, as it didn't help them pin down her ancestry.

Since I have been asked this before, let me clarify - I am not part-Portuguese. Nor am I Anglo Indian. Yes, there is a difference between Anglo Indian and Christian. Anglo-Indian is a community and Christian is a person of the Christian faith. If you didn't know that (and I've come across many who didn't) then shame on you. Since one person really did ask me this - Parsis are not another kind of Christian.

On to how I got the name D'Mello - One of my ancestors (by the name of Kamath) converted to Christianity. Possibly around two centuries back. On converting to Christianity, he assumed the name D'Mello. I don't know why - maybe it was to impress a Portuguese boss or to just set himself apart from other Kamaths. Maybe the other Kamaths didn't want him to be Kamath anymore. Who knows? But he did take the name D'Mello and the name stuck. Within the next century, his descendents moved to Mangalore. Another century later one of these descendents married the descendent of a Shenoy who had assumed the name of Lasrado. A few years after that, I was born.

These assumed names have been useful in the past in places like Goa, Mangalore and Mumbai to the people who know what they signify. In the past it was important to mark yourself as Christian in a Hindu world. As we get more global, it becomes important to mark yourself as Indian in a non-Indian world. A few decades back, an Indianisation drive swept through our community. Many people felt the need to affirm their Indianess and they moved back to their older GSB (Gaud Saraswat Brahmin) surnames. My parents somehow missed that wave and we remained D'Mello. Ironically, my parents felt this fad went against our traditions; much the same way as most traditional Indians would consider western names. And now, I face the same confusions of nomenclature that the East Indians face - although, to a lesser degree. (Look up East Indians - they are not from the East of India.)

Just as Binyavanga Wainaina felt about his ethnic name, I also wondered whether I should revert to my Kamath surname. I am Indian, have always been Indian. Maybe it is time now to go back to my Indian roots of more than two centuries back. After all, the Portuguese names have always been only the official names. The Mangalore grapevine still keeps track of the Saldanha-Prabhus or the Crasta-Prabhus or the D'Mello-Kamaths (who am I kidding? We aren't that important). But for me to change my name would be to cut myself away from my immediate family of D'Mellos. And I can't do that. To me, this is the family I want to identify myself with - not the ancestors I didn't know or the other Kamaths in the world who are probably very very distant cousins.

So, I shall go on with my name and hope that I can just educate the people around me to its significance rather than change it to something more easily understandable. Fortunately, I really do like the sound of D'Mello. And it also includes an apostrophe!

Life lessons - Swimming

2010-10-01T21:58:00.000+05:30

Ok, so I haven't actually learnt swimming yet. But this is about 'learning to swim'. I've only got to floating so far, but I'll just extrapolate. Learning to swim has been an exhilarating process and truly eye-opening for me since most of my time is spent in mentally exhausting but physically non demanding activities.

1. Jump in first, think later - "Sochne pe irade kamzor pad jaate hain". Thinking can weaken intentions. And that is exactly what happens on a rainy morning when you are standing at the edge of the pool with the certain knowledge that the water will be icy cold. So the key is to not think about. Once you are in the water, you'll be hit with the realisation of how cold it is, and will of necessity get moving to get warm again. One lap of the pool later, it won't be a problem anymore.

2. Push the limits; you never know what you are capable - My classes were of an hour every morning. Right from the first session, each morning started with the instructor telling me what to do, me protesting that I couldn't do it (too scared, too uncoordinated, too out of shape), him telling me to just keep trying. And each hour ended with me accomplishing that task and in awe of myself and all the hidden potential I didn't know of till then. I may have ended up with limp hair and coarse skin - but I'd feel like a million bucks each day, knowing I had managed to do something I never thought I could. It was like I had pushed some personal boundaries, that I didn't even know existed. I'm just glad those boundaries were not strong enough to keep me from even trying.

3. Fear does not define you - I think we all have a habit of holding on to some imperfection (a slight speech defect, a tendency to catch colds, a morbid fear of spiders, sometimes even xenophobia) and to believe that is what defines you since it makes you stand apart from the rest. It makes you feel special. I know someone who would not step on an escalator and when someone tried to talk her in to it, she flared out with a 'You don't know how it feels to be this scared!'. That fear kept her out of a lot of malls and made her world a little smaller, but she couldn't let go because she believed that is what she was.

For the longest time, I thought I was scared of water. Or of losing balance. I'm not sure what it was - but I'd get into the water and freak out. For the longest time, I thought that was who I was and there was no changing it. But one hour of trying repeatedly to hold my breath under water for a couple of seconds, and that fear vanished in to thin air. And I was left feeling liberated, like I could now conquer anything. Like my world and horizons has suddenly expanded. Never make fear a part of your system.

4. Head fake - So, I had trouble holding my breath till I was told to try and let go of my feet under water. I had trouble with that till I was told to then let go of the bar and float a bit. That was difficult till I was told to kick off and float to the other end of the pool. And so on. Sometimes you just need to focus on the big picture. It's good to know good form when you are playing a sport. But if you have trouble getting it right, just focus on the game and the form will follow.

I hope someday I'll manage to actually swim. But if nothing else, this experience has shown that it is just about perseverance....

Life lessons - Driving

2010-08-17T02:04:00.001+05:30

As I promised a friend, I'm starting my new series where I connect random dots and find overarching life lessons while attempting (and probably failing) to learn something else. Learning to drive has been one of my most long drawn out projects, with multiple failed attempts. But I finally did get my act together, to find that there is so much they don't tell you in driving school and you discover on the road. Just like life....

1. There is only so much you can plan for - So, I had this habit when I first learnt to drive, of trying to map out my 5 minute drive to work before I step in to the car. Start car, move into first gear, maneuver out of the parking lot, out the gate with a sharp left turn, pick up speed and move to 2nd gear, up the slope, nice swerve around the circle, move into 3rd gear for a stretch and back in to 2nd before speed breaker, etc... But it never ever worked out that way. Just when I was about to move into 2nd gear, someone would dart in front of me and make me stall. Or the car in front of me would stop. Or a million other things. And I'd have to make a split second decision or create a traffic jam (which has happened a lot). I can truthfully say that most of my driving experience has come from learning to react rather than planning ahead.

2. They are all moving parts - Another mistake I did was to judge distance but not speed. When you look at the car in front of you, you don't look at where it is now, but where it will be 5 seconds from now. Where it will be if the car suddenly slows down. Especially when you are trying to overtake something. It is always a mistake to think that the world will stay the same around you while you find your way through it.

3. The Chakravyuh rule - A friend offered to let me practice in his car, since I had not driven for a year. I started the car, only to to realise 2 mins into the drive that I had forgotten how to stop. So I hit the brakes and the car stalled. Always learn how to get out of a situation before you get into it. The first gear you learn should be the reverse. Learn how to change a tyre. And keep your mechanic's number handy at all times.

4. It's not the car, it's the driver - A friend said that a person's true character shows when they are driving (and when they are drunk).So many people blame the vehicle, which is in the end only an instrument. Just like alcohol and guns. It is the people who are using it that make the difference.

Living in a bubble

2010-06-30T01:28:00.000+05:30

At any given point of time, most people live in a bubble. A microcosm, a little universe, where only some kinds of people exist, whether those people are defined by race or religion or occupation or social class. Very few people have the thoughtfulness to know there are other kinds of worlds and fewer still go looking for the other kinds of people, how they live and their concerns. Perhaps a life is richly lived when you get to traverse different classes, live in different cities and have the good fortune to be friends with people from a wide variety of backgrounds.

I've been very fortunate in the different directions life has taken me. My current bubble is so different from the ones I saw before - the earlier times surrounded my family and people of my own community; school years surrounded by children of the same region and social class, college which was a revelation in how people who sat next to you went back to a completely different world after class, office-years which showed my the different worries people have and also the different ways they approach the same problem. Then there was hostel life in a college that attracted people from all over the country. Those two years were just so many months of being immersed in an alien environment, especially as I was amongst the minority in most aspects as a girl, a non-engineer and Catholic to boot. Since the company I joined recruits almost exclusively from similar schools, work life has mostly been an extension of the B-School bubble.

This is my current environment: I am surrounded by young people (relatively), who generally have no money concerns, no serious health issues and blessed by an above average intellect. In other words, our lives are touched by very little sickness, poverty and disability. But every once in a while, when I read something or when I visit family and meet people in the real world, I suddenly feel the need to put my own life into perspective. I worry that so much of the same thing is not healthy for me, and maybe I have come to expect a certain standard from life and anything below this will make me miserable. I am not nearly appreciative and thankful enough of my current life. And I'm not prepared enough for the life that is to come.

Deep down, there is also the thought that in the middle of all this receiving, I hope I haven't forgot how to give again.

Dada

2010-06-25T21:45:00.002+05:30

It's one of those coincidences that you take for granted, especially when your life is as littered by coincidences as mine is - Mother's day is the 2nd Sunday in May, Father's day is the 3rd Sunday in June, making both days within a week (or on) my parents birthdays.

Since it is the season, and this post has been long overdue, I am finally writing out my own tribute to the greatest Dad that ever lived. Dada would have been 70 years yesterday. Hard to imagine him that way, but that is perhaps one of the very few blessings of a massive heartattack - you remember them as they last were. And in my case, that would be this strong, silent man, with the shy smile, who could make us miserable with a frown and incredibly happy with a word of encouragement. Someone who tirelessly worked all his life, to give the people who depended on him - his siblings, his wife and kids and later some random people - a good life.

Fatherhood seems to be all about teaching your kids invaluable lessons for life. My father taught me objectivity and honesty. He taught me to draw patterns and connect the world around me. He taught me an almost childish fascination for life. Not in so many words, but just by being and living each day that way. Or maybe he didn't teach me any of this, I just inherited it from him.

I am very very fortunate to have had parents I am incredibly proud of. Parents who went through so much, for me. Now that I think of it, they fit the stereotype so well - my father who brought home the bacon and discussed ideas with us and my mom the nourisher who looked out for us and taught us how to care. So much so, that I can't imagine them in any other role. And neither can they.

My Dad started working at a very early age, and left us just when it was time for him to sit back and relax, and let his children spoil him a little. As he had always wished to go before he became a burden on anyone else, this was perhaps the best reward for a life well lived. It's amazing how much we grew up in the few months after his death. He had an incredible life, coming from a small farming town and moving to the big city to make money. He also had the enviable knack of making everybody love him in the shortest period of time. A knack that he remained unaware of till the very end. And when he died, I thought 'What a pity for all the people who never knew him'.

Perhaps I should have said it earlier, when he was around to hear it. But I hope he knows and always knew that to me at least it will always be - 'My Daddy strongest!!'

The truly democratic Indian media

2010-06-21T22:59:00.003+05:30

Have you ever wondered why successful news reporters come down so hard on bloggers exercising their freedom of speech? Maybe it is because a blogger can tell the world what he/she thinks without their filter, or by increasing their TRPs. They have slogged all their lives and sacrificed so much (including ethics, in many cases) to become known faces, and now regular folk can get airtime just by writing well?

I am not a fan of the BJP and prefer the Congress as a lesser evil, but this is definitely worth reading (if you ignore the length and a few minor potshots at rival parties). Arun Shourie on Arunachal (via Rahul Gaitonde's Google Buzz):

http://arunshourie.wordpress.com/2008/05/29/shilpa-shetty-trumps-arunachal-again/

Kata-kata

2010-06-20T01:26:00.002+05:30

I went to see Raavan yesterday, braving the pouring rains and the wrath of the friends I left in the middle of a party that was just warming up. Was it worth it? Ah, well....

In movie making style, Raavan reminded me of Dil Se... the same conflict driven couple, larger scheme of things, past baggage, etc. Glorious backdrop. But something missing. In spite of the terrible choreography, I think I like Dil Se better, for the times it was made in.

The problem with Raavan was that I kept thinking 'Khalnayak has done it already'. It is not good news when you major conflict, the crux of your movie, has been covered better by a movie like Khalnayak! In fact, Khalnayak covered more Freudian ground with the kid who had turned bad guy because of unresolved issues with his father (yes, I just ruined Khalnayak for you, didn't I?). Raavan was mostly a disappointment because of all that could have been covered, but wasn't.

SPOILER ALERT

Some questions I would have liked to have seen the movie ask:

The implication that all is fine because Ragini was not 'touched'. She is still pure. But what if she was in fact raped in that jungle, would that make Dev's anger against her justified? Would Dev be man enough to be there for her in her trauma?

The part where Beera names her Mahua because she seems to be one of them. Does living in another land really do that to you? Do you absorb the land around you? If Ragini had been freed and went back to life as normal, would the experience have changed her forever?

Once Ragini hears of the police atrocities, specifically by Hemant, someone she knows and thinks of as a friend, how does that colour her opinion? And doesn't she blame Dev at all for not preventing those crimes, even if he didn't participate in them? How do you deal with black and white in the same person, rather than Ragini's unquestioning adoration for Dev?

The after - I would dearly have loved to see how things shape after the end. So Beera changes their lives and goes away. How do they cope with that? And this is what I thought of Dil Se too, what about the afterwards? What happens to Preity Zinta, the family....

And the question of that highly impractical flowing white chudidaar set she wears while travelling in a train. Which remains sparkling white post a tramp in the forest - how did she do that???

END OF SPOILERS

Lastly - the casting. While watching the movie, I knew that the Dev character was played by a S. Indian. This was confirmed by a friend later, who told me that the same actor played the Raavan character in the Tamil version, which I think would be very interesting. But coming back to the reason why I knew that he was a S. Indian actor, was that his whole demeanor seemed a little out of whack. Like there was no fluidity. You see the same awkwardness when Mohanlal appears in a Hindi movie. But surprisingly, this is exactly how I would picture an actor in a Tamil or Malayalam movie. It makes for amazing performances as every move is deliberate and the audience has time to let it sink in. Would this point to an intrinsic quality of S. Indians? A tendency to take things slow and deliberately, maybe? Or maybe I'm reading too much into what is nothing but a cultural quirk.

Bad things and good people

2010-06-19T22:23:00.004+05:30

In spite of centuries of proof to the contrary, humans still retain a highly irrational belief of auto-justice. Do good, and good things will happen to you. If not in this life, then in the next. What goes around comes around. As you sow…

And when you are faced with the fact that this is not true, as is inevitable, the world doesn't make sense anymore. Perhaps more than the actual ‘bad thing’ that happens, the sorrow is having to face up to the fact that you gave something and didn't get anything back. You got short changed. Sucker!

Let’s look at this the other way round – why should good things happen to good people? If good things did follow this habit, wouldn’t everyone be good? Bad people are only bad in the attempt to make good things happen to them, which is why the scales are tilted in their favour. To expect anything else is stupidity. But more importantly – what does that say about you? Are you only being good in expectation of an eventual payoff? If you save a life today, and tomorrow the person you saved your life turns back and steals from you, it is unfair. But if you knew he would do this, would you still save his life? “If you give only to those who can give back, where is the good in that? Even the sinners do that…”

Sometimes you are setting yourself up for failure when you do something good. Think of that before hand and incorporate it in to your decision-making. There is such a thing as Divine Justice and also a more local state police force. But if you will do good, do it because you want to. Because you are essentially a good person and could do no different. It may sound trite and preachy, but for some people, virtue IS its own reward.

Hoping and Wishing

2010-06-05T17:02:00.002+05:30

"Cause he never risked shit, he hoped and he wished it

But it didn’t fall in his lap, so he ain’t even here
He pretends that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars"

- From "Airplanes Pt 2", B.o.B feat Hayley Williams and Eminem.

Ever wondered why you never seem to get the best job on the planet, never get into great bonding conversations with people, never find that perfect soulmate, or a million other things? That's probably coz you don't know of what goes into getting these things - and if you did know, you'd probably not think it was worth the effort.

The guy who landed the great job doesn't tell you the number of interviews he failed or the things he had to sacrifice for this job and how it's taking a toll on him right now. The girl with the perfect boyfriend won't tell you that she chose him because her parents won't object to him and he's got a good job - and she's never fallen madly in love with him, as you might believe. And conversations are hard work! Even in 'Before Sunrise', which all about great conversation and making a connect with a stranger, in the beginning you see them in the train making polite conversation: "Oh, are you coming from Budapest?", "Are you on holiday?", while all the time trying to strike a common note that will carry it through.

Everything needs a little extra - the thoughtfulness to pick on a cue and go 'That's interesting. Tell me more about your job'. Or, the inventiveness necessary to move where the career is headed. More risks, but if it matter to you, the rewards can be so worth it!

Amul

2010-06-02T23:37:00.000+05:30

When you are old enough to know that she's making a mistake
But young enough to know that correcting her won't help.
All you can do is to be around for the 'after'.

History must.

Leaving Home

2010-05-23T15:28:00.001+05:30

Courtesy Enlighten, I just got a chance to see "Leaving Home" - a documentary film on the band Indian Ocean. Their music and the style is the kind that doesn't fit under any genre - except, perhaps 'moving'. The night Indian Ocean played at IIM Kozhikode remains one of my most cherished memories. With the best seats in the open air theatre, surrounded by friends, under a moon-lit sky, their haunting melodies made it the kind of moment that money can't buy. The fact that it was also my birthday, was simply icing on the cake...

The movie did a very faithful job of showing their lives and how the band evolved. I was surprised at just how well it was done - the movie covered the struggle, the issues forming a band, the talented members who left for a more secure life and now wish they were a part of this phenomenon, how the different families reacted to all this. But the most surprising aspect of the movie was just how honest it was. In spite of interviews with many famous faces - Sudhir Mishra, Anurag Kashyap, Piyush Mishra, Palash Sen, Subha Mudgal - the focus never moved away from the band, Indian Ocean. The editing clearly removed all the fuzz and showed the band as they were. In a post-screening talk with Jaideep Verma, the director, we were told that the real faces we got to see on screen only emerged about a hour in to each filming session. The movie took 3 years to complete, post filming. And what you have in the end is a wonderfully finished piece of work that faithfully represents and comments on the band that broke many conventions and brought obscure (to the average urban Indian) music to the forefront through just being true to their calling.

Unfortunately, the sincerity that went in to the making of this movie is probably what caused it to remain so obscure - in spite of good reviews from most critics, the movie has seen very few screenings. As the director candidly said - the making of the movie broke the company and all efforts now are to just recoup the expenses. Many things were blamed - the apathy of the audience, the egotism and corruption at the higher levels of media houses, the high cost of materials back then vs the lower returns now. But what it boils down to is the realisation that a job well done is not always rewarded in due time. The age old question of art vs commerce. Through the ages, various art forms have only survived because of royal or noble patronage. But now that we live in a democracy, with the attempt at a more equitable distribution of wealth, will any art really survive? Because appreciation of higher forms of art seems to come only to those who are at leisure to contemplate these things. Or the people who do not value money excessively. And these are the people who do not necessarily prosper in a capitalistic society. The kind of movies and music Bollywood churns out is the kind of movies and music that will bring in the money at the box office. A true barometer of who has money to spare. Hopefully, the internet is the answer to these problems - bringing down the costs of production and distribution, so that all kinds of tastes can be served, rather than just the majority or the rich.

Jaideep Verma spoke of releasing the movie on DVD. It is a very well knit movie that is worth the watch, so if you can catch a screening, or get your hands on the DVD, do try it.

To laugh till you cry...

2010-05-21T00:35:00.002+05:30

I just finished a book by Erma Bombeck - 'If life is a bowl of cherries, why am I in the pits?'. Of course, a book like that doesn't take long to get through.

In the middle of her laugh out loud commentary on life and domesticity, Erma suddenly lets you have the real thing - she lays bare the tragedy of the average life. And finds you completely unprepared. While I was grinning for most of the book, suddenly I was close to tears as she wrote about the pain of suddenly having to care for the parent who used to care for you. Of the pain of seeing loved ones grow up and go away. And she started it all by saying 'Who says my books are funny? Tell me which of these is funny!'

Scott Adams once said that his cartoons have a dog for consultant, cat for an HR Manager, trolls for accountants and yet, the most common comment he gets is 'Your cartoons are so life-like!'. Terry Pratchett's books have dwarfs and trolls slugging it out, wizards and witches and magical luggage and yet, whenever I read it, I think this is the best satire I've read of the real world.

The best jokes seem to be the caricature of a tragedy - perhaps because the best laugh is caused by hysteria.

What makes them tick

2010-05-14T00:34:00.000+05:30

I've only recently realised the thread that binds most of the fiction that I like.

It's not the plot - I can forgive a terrible plot so long as it is presented well and without loopholes. Clever plots, like those of Wodehouse where everything ties in in the end, are wonderful but rare.

To a large extent, there is the presentation, the style used. Most of Shakespeare's plots were borrowed and have been borrowed again a countless times since. But each telling is so different for the way it is shown.

But what it actually boils down to, is the characterisation. I love stories with interesting characters who stay true to form till the end. Here's a list of some of my favorites and why:

1. Georgette Heyer - Yes, her heroes are wonderful. And the heroines more so. But more importantly, it is the drunk irresponsible charming brothers and the fluttering flaky mothers that are a big hit. And I must say, it was Freddie, the dandy, from Cotillion that got me hooked to her books and remains my favorite to date. Freddie who said Lochinvar was a 'dashed loose-screw' and stopped to straighten his collar in the middle of an announcement of his betrothal to his fiancee's scary guardian.

2. Terry Pratchett - The pity is, the best example of someone acting totally in character is Granny Weatherwax's answer in 'Witches Abroad'. And I can't tell you what it is, cause that would ruin the book. Let me just say, it was brilliant! But let's look at the other evidence we have - the three witches, the guard, the wizards and even some furniture - each and everyone is a wonderfully put together and everything they do in the plot is because of some internal motivation.

3. Rock On/Dil Chahta Hai/Luck by Chance - I loved the minor details like Aditya the sweet talking fin guy chatting up a client mirrored in Aditya the sweet talking aspiring musician chatting up the director of the music video. Someone who does it almost unconsciously and doesn't even know that he seems to be a sell out to a more straight forward but gutless Joe.

The unremitting selfishness and ambition of Vikram in Luck By Chance, who gets a job and money but doesn't use it to settle debts or spend on modest requirements - rather he sends for more money from home, so he can do up his new pad....

4. Kaminey - Just the trailers of Kaminey, featuring a guitar and people named Tashi promised a truckload of well built minor characters. Guddu was a surprise - how he managed to combine the good boy with the ambitious plodder who knocks up his girlfriend but refuses to marry her after.

The windmills of the mind

2010-05-14T00:19:00.000+05:30

And suddenly, you find you are a different person. Old bookmarks need to be deleted, old books given away. You read old emails and think 'Did I write that?'. An old wishlist of music you wanted, and you cringe. You meet a friend after years, and it seems the person she remembers is someone else. It's a little scary that the person you were made a stronger impression on a passing friend than it did on you....

Sometimes you look back and feel sorry for the person you were. And sometimes sorry for the person you are now. Neither quite perfect. It's a little scary to think that the person you used to be, is the kind of person you wouldn't even talk to today.

Never is a long time. But strangely, it comes sooner than we think. Things you were too scared to do, opinions you were too naive to give up. They seemed like absolutes back then, a part of your identity. But then you realise that this is not what defines you. It is a little scary that you know so little of the person you will be... or in fact, the person you are now.

But mostly reassuring perhaps, that there is hope and at least you have the steering wheel. And exciting - who knows what skin you'll be living in another decade down the line....

Hindi 101 - for the average South Indian

2010-05-07T01:57:00.006+05:30

My misadventures with Hindi, a large N. Indian friend base that never forgets to roar with laughter at every misstep and the advantage of speaking Konkani (which shares a lot of structure with Hindi) has helped me figure out a couple of thumb rules, that any S. Indian attempting to get understood in Hindi might find useful. And since sharing is caring, here goes:

S. Indian speakers (and I speak for them because I don't know about the others) generally err in two ways:

1. The 'h'-es

2. The gender associated with inanimate objects

Both of these are due to the illogical complexity with which Hindi was designed and should in no way reflect on the S. Indian speaker. But unfortunately, it always does (sigh!). So let's deal with them.

The 'h'-es –

Here again, the 'h' problem may be divided in two - the 'th-dh' and 'all other h-es'

H1 – Santosh, or Santhosh? Is it Anitha, or Anita?

Let's start with the most common offender - the 'h' that follows a 't'. The irony is that we are arguing about the English alphabet. But the conflict arises as both sides of the Vindhyas (or do I mean some other range?) are convinced they know it better.

For the Hindi speaker, 't' = त and 'th' = थ (and google transliteration agrees! Damn N. Indian propaganda!).

In rest of the world, 't' = ट and 'th' = 'त'. Like 'trash' vs 'thrash'.

But English is such a variable language, it really doesn't pay to squabble over the 'th's. Afterall, 'the' is pronounced as 'द'!

'dh' and 'd' have a similar problem, in that 'd' could be the hard ड or a द.

H2 – Dil Chatha Hai (The heart is an umbrella)

The second 'h' problem, is just a problem of pronunciation and familiarity with the language. Is it 'dhoondta' or 'doondhta'? There are so many minor variations in Hindi words; it can get pretty bewildering. This needs a lot of Hindi film/soaps watching, to fix. Or, try it the hard way, with a bunch of Hindi friends who will laugh to indicate you are wrong.

The gender association –

Part 1 – “A table is female?!?”

A common misconception is that the gender is associated with the object – when in fact it is associated with the word. And I find this fact rather reassuring, because I’d hate to think of female tables (although, a certain Little Johnny joke comes to mind, regarding the gender of a bus....).

Example: “Yeh meri kitaab hai”. “Yeh mera book hai”.

Here again, it is only a sense for the word that can set you right. And I have a theory (not yet tested) that it is the vowels that make the difference – ‘ee’ sounds are female and ‘o’ sounds are male...

Part 2 – “Mera girlfriend aa rahi hai”

The second error is which part of the sentence the gender applies to. In the sentence above - both the gender words ('meri' and 'rahi') apply to the girlfriend. Not to you.

Thumb rule 1: Mera/Meri - always applies to the object you are talking about. 'mera naam', 'meri kitaab', regardless of the gender of the speaker.

Thumb rule 2: Verb applies to the noun carrying out the action. 'Mein kaam kar rahi hoon'; 'Gaadi tez ja rahi hai'.

In summary:

So, that about covers it. Since most of this has come from my own imagination, please feel free to correct or augment.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Update: Usha highlighted an omission - and a very important one since I lost many many marks to spelling mistakes because of this! The small 'ki' and the big 'kee'.

'ki' - roughly translates to 'that' and usually found in the context of 'maine kaha ki' and 'yaane ki' or 'yunki'.

'kee' - used most commonly in Hindi swear phrases and is both the 'k's in KMK. It is the possessive 'of' - 'yeh uskee kitaab hai'

Dual-vision

2010-04-15T21:36:00.002+05:30

Around 10 years ago, I attended a series of Christian renewal retreats that changed my life - the way I think, the way I live and my priorities. The things I learnt in those retreats made me think very deeply about what I believe in and what makes sense to me, ensuring for me a lifetime of happiness that comes from knowing there is an answer to all your problems.

Today I realize that I am fortunate this happened to me in my pre-cynicism days. For cynicism makes you feel smarter than you are. It makes you discount everything you don't understand on the count of it being rubbish, rather than just something wonderful to get to the bottom of... It makes people living their dreams look delusional. If I hadn't attended those retreats back then, when I still believed I was not the smartest fish in my little pond, I'd be a truly horrid and insecure person today.

As I was reading this email I received today, I realised it was reading it on two levels - The judgemental view was picking out all the spots that my acquaintance would groan at, criticise and say 'that is just lame!'. The other part of me was thinking 'Wow, this man is blessed'. I find myself doing this very often nowadays, and suppose it is the non-cynics armour. I've developed the first view to help me navigate through this world that I often don't feel part of. And I can only be thankful for the second view, that often is what makes this world worth living in...

2010-02-26T01:53:00.001+05:30

I just shared this video on Google reader, when I was only half way it through it. And now I'm am 3/4th through it and find it so fascinating that I felt the need for a full blown blog post to talk about it.

The video is a guest lecture at Stanford, by Rajat Paharia of Bunchball, on people's non-monetary payoffs and, very importantly, irrational human valuation techniques. While the speaker is talking in the context of designing online games (game theory in online gaming. Smart, no?), this lecture has wide applications, and could just usher in the HR revolution I have been waiting for, forever.... This video goes right next to Ricardo Semler's 'Maverick' and the last chapter of 'The Dilbert Principle' in my list of must reads/see for every people manager.

I've been meaning to write on the money-illusion for sometime now, but will save it for another post. But think it is worth it to list a couple of the applications in every day life that I could find in this video-

Given that there is a bunch of stuff that people work for, other than money (status, security, et al - ref Maslow), imagine how much money a company could save by just hiring bosses who gave their employees that importance and security? Live example I saw of this was at a previous employer, when I tried instituting a point based system to encourage team members to learn more processes. While I fully expected the system to fail and was just clutching at straws, it was a wild success with most people signing up to learn processes on their own time, just to get more points. And this had no bearing on their ratings or salary. The difference was just that a) someone was keeping track - statistics, as he says b) they would be compared, which made it a competition.
The example on Microsoft and the ribbon is needs no explaining or innovation. Just imagine if we had more game-based education. Helping kids sort out their thoughts, and keeping it fun at the same time. And hopefully, keeping them away from seriously awful online games at the same time.
Frequency, not just quantity. This has a direct bearing on payroll. A yearly bonus is just too far away to plan for at the beginning of the year (time value of money) and in addition, doesn't remind you often enough, about the reason that you are working.
Get people committed (labeled under sneaky category). Most people stick to their first vocal opinion on anything - especially people pronouncements. A person labeled as nasty has to work twice as hard to be accepted as 'not bad, afterall'. The trick is, to always be nice to people who barely know you. Because once you get someone to vouch for you (oh, I know her. She's a nice girl), it their responsibility then to defend you.
Losing hurts! Suggesting something (a big fat bonus, a company picnic in the off-site in the Maldives) and then saying it can't be done is just about the same as giving something and taking it away. I've seen bitter resentment develop over things like this.
Communities - if you want people to act someway, most of the time you just have to say 'We do it this way'. Even if the 'it' is working long hours for no pay. I did the Mumbai Marathon Dream Run this year. Why did I do it? I normally pay people to transport me from one place to another. Why would I pay to walk/run 6 kms, and take the trouble to get to and from that place on lovely Sunday morning? Just the feeling that I was part of a community, that does this.

A Marie moment

2010-02-18T00:14:00.000+05:30

My neighbour at work was eating Marie biscuits the other day. And as I was feeling a bit peckish (to use a word I never do), I helped myself to one.

Now this is a big deal for me - since 'Never eat Marie' has been one of my childhood rules. The reason for the rule being - Marie doesn't taste like anything! Always eat glucose or cream biscuits. Or if you have to eat Marie, eat it with jam or chocolate dip. The Marie biscuit was only invented as a jam holder.

And as I munched on my jam-less, chocolate-less, just plain Marie, I was treated to this insight - it really does have a flavour. Perhaps it always did. And it took Age (and a lot of culinary disasters, mess food and torture-diets) to teach me how to appreciate it.

I'm not in the habit of being thankful for being so much older than I used to be... and older than everyone around me. But suddenly I am - I'm grateful that I now can taste food, other than different kinds of sugar.

Kit kat

2010-02-09T00:17:00.000+05:30

From laziness to broken keyboard to dysfunctional shoulder.... the reasons for dormancy of this blog just get better and better.

Hope to be back soon....

Is Ugly a bad word?

2010-01-09T01:28:00.001+05:30

A series of articles led me to the name - Crystal Renn, plus size model who achieved wild success after she went from size 0 to size 12 (google if you need to know more - there's enough on the net). This sparked off quite a discussion among friends. As one of the people who has been seriously worried about the stick thin looks that are promoted nowadays, the number of guys I've met who think women starving themselves is a good idea and are not even aware of anorexia or bulimia and also being someone who has despaired of ever finding good clothes in my size in Indian shops, I of course applauded the few models who dare to eat and be shot, love handles and all.

Reading commentaries about her and the other plus size models out there, and even the discussions we've been having at work, some things kept cropping up that worried me a bit:

1. Everyone seems to be saying 'fat can also be beautiful'. No one is saying 'Being not beautiful is ok'. Maybe you won't get the guys. But it is not a reflection of your self worth in anyway.

2. No one seems to be talking of the health issue, just about self esteem. It is true that more people are overweight now, than before. Processed food and sedentary lifestyles have taken over. This is not a good thing. Anorexia is one extreme and obesity is another. Neither is a good thing and we need to focus on this more.

3. There are more sizes - short, tall, squat, amazonesque, etc. They all exist, and they all need representation.

It may have come from being in a place where the road romeos would wolf whistle at anything female that walked by, which makes me never think of looking attractive as a necessarily good thing. It might be from have a wonderful family and incredibly non-shallow friends, that I've never judged myself by the way I look. And this probably shows in my bearing, in the way I act. I rarely lack friends and anyone who jokes about my own plus plus size, will only get a blank look of incomprehension.

With this background, I was surprised to hear a good friend (female) comment on 'how fat Aishwarya looked in that song!!'. The surprise was at the tone, which was not mildly surprised or sarcastic - it was downright condemning. And Aishwarya didn't look fat in the song - she just didn't have the washboard tummy that she introduced to India years back. Other comments I've heard made me realise how many women - generally those a few years younger than me - think of being overweight as a sign of failure. That some guys have always felt like that is common fact, but beside the point.

There have been occassions when I'd see a plump girl in a short summer dress and mentally congratulate her on being so comfortable with her body, just to hear the guy next to me comment on how thighs like that should never be shown. I'd suggest that being such a purist, he should never look in the mirror, but I'm polite.

I think we need some ugliness in this world - it might make us more accepting of the people around us, and of ourselves!

Beti ki shaadi

2010-01-08T00:02:00.000+05:30

I re-visited the Byomkesh Bakshi series after a very long time. With the surfeit of simpering, jari saree/pastel cotton salwar-kameez clad, sanskriti rich girls in the daily soaps, and their tee-shirt jeans wearing heart-and-watch-of-gold beaus, BB stunned with its simplicity. White/khadi cotton kurtas and sarees. Whitewashed houses with minimalistic furniture. Stories with postmen and servants referred to as 'arre ramu, Byomkesh babu ke liye chai lao'. And the mysteries, where the key lay in the unremitting Indianness of its characters.

The series wasn't a commentary or a scathing criticism of the Indian way of life and our mores. But, with pure honesty, it laid bare our society as current serials wouldn't dare to do. The old patriach, who is referred to as a 'rangeen mizaj ke aadmi'. And it is understood that this means that he was a womaniser and much addicted to dope; and it is not surprising or scandalous to our refined sensibilities, that very recently thought that girls who went to pubs should be beaten up. The man is rich, so of course he is likely to have such pass times. Morality is only for the middle class.

The 33 yr old woman who is living with her uncle, because her husband was loafer and dumped her 5 years back, to join a circus. And people worrying about who will take care of her, without ever thinking that maybe she could take care of herself... A thought that doesn't occur to her either, since when he husband returns, telling her that its because he is tired of circus life (no mention of missing her) she is only too thankful and begs him to take her with him. The viewer wouldn't for a minute wonder why she's reacted this way - it is obvious that it is the only way she would.

Most students of human behaviour and society explain away customs and rituals as being designed to most suit the climate or other conditions that society lived in. For instance, the theory that Lent was made a month of fasting because it was the time of year where food was hard to come by. If this is true, we must be the only society with the innate ability to build customs just to 'apne pair pe khuladi maaro'. Like the retired postman, who has to resort to peddling drugs, because he needs to save up for his daughters wedding. And it is so ingrained in us that a beti's shaadi is the main aim of your life, your biggest responsibility and also that it will cost a lot money, that the viewer immediately understands his point of view. The sin of drug peddling pales in front of the huge responsibility the man is trying to fulfil. He is not a bad man. Just haalaat se majboor. This one line in the episode reminded me of an ad for insurance that told people it would help them prepare for 'beti ki shaadi, bete ki padhai'...

I also don't understand the fact that society is more likely to reproach you if you don't get your daughter married, than if you get her married to the wrong kind of guy, as in the case of the 33 yr old woman who helps her husband steal from the uncle who's supported her the last 5 years when said husband was away living the gypsy life. My friend from college who was one of the smartest in the class and could have easily made a career for herself, was married a year after graduation. In to a family that insisted on only sarees in the house and no working after marriage. I don't know about society, I definitely reproached her father (in my own heart of hearts) for caring so little for his daughter's happiness.

So why do we live this way? Isn't it better to live in the contempt of such a society than to sacrifice your happiness, and that of your loved ones, for its approval? Why do we build systems that seem designed to cause us the most sorrow. Like our need to invite half the city to a wedding, even if it means going bankrupt or working off the debt for the next 3 years. Why were such institutions developed? And why are we not breaking them down now? We could do with a couple of Raja Ram Mohan Roys right about now.

I've seen a few people who bucked the trend and shocked the community by living exactly as made sense to them. People were horrified for a week, and loved the opportunity to gossip. And after that one week (or month, or year, depending on the case) all was forgotten and life went on as usual. So why don't we do it more often?

Since I am surrounded by people who think the same as me, I tend to think that it is a generation thing. That may be in 20 years time, things will be very different. But then I remember classmates who agreed with their parents on most of these issues. And I know that they will carry on our glorious traditions - especially the tradition of never questioning traditions.

Endings and beginnings..

2010-01-05T01:28:00.000+05:30

My new laptop is here. A new Dell era is beginning on the fading notes of that glorious IBM era.... Will it be a worthy successor? Only time will tell...
But let us pause for a moment to remember the Thinkpad. And it's addictive personality. I've been using the new laptop for barely 3 hours, and I'm already sorely missing the trackpoint. Some people know just how difficult it was for me to give in and consider a non-trackpointed laptop. How long I stuck to the IBM, just for the superior and definitely more accurate track point. I even read up on people who had resorted to a drill and rough and ready wiring to fit their own laptop with a track point.
Other than that, there were the keys, with their own strange layout. And the mic at the upper left corner. When I first saw it, I thought it was a waste of hardware. Till gtalk came around and I felt so good that I didn't have to go hunting for a headset with mic. All I had to do was talk to my computer...
That laptop survived for a good 4.5 years of not so kind usage, although it did need a lot of healthcare in that time. And is still working, except for the keyboard, which makes things surprisingly difficult. The only things that work on the keyboard now are the power button and the track point. :) It's been a good friend, seeing me through and keeping me safe from the era of the Vista.

Which brings me to the new laptop and what's exciting about it. For starters - it's purple! How's that for attitude? It also has Windows 7, and so far, it seems worth the wait.
The other things are more mundane, but I'm glad for them - 15.6" screen for an excellent movie watching experience, DVD burner, webcam, 320gigs of storage for all the junk I'll never need. It's definitely a good deal. But it also has big shoes to fill.

Now that I have got that out of the way - Happy new year to you all! Was 2009 something or what?? I feel like I've been living in 2009 for about 5 years.... So many things have changed - flats, location at work, friends (they insist on getting married or moving continents!) and job profile. So many departures, so many arrivals. And so many moving experiences!! :)

Talking of change - the most over utilised word of the year - it comes in so many different ways. There are times when a little thing changes while the big things stay the same. And that usually means that there is a big gaping hole in the middle of your regular schedule.
And there are times when everything changes at the same time... like your life suddenly got pulled in to a whirlpool and everything is churned around. And when you come out of it, you can't miss the old, because the old has been thoroughly wiped out of your system. You only think of the bright and hopeful beginning. 2009 had quite a few of the second and although not normally a fan of change, I'm glad it was the second kind.

It's also been a period of recovery. Sometimes, I get the feeling I am living in so many different worlds, that I can easily lose my way back. The last few months have been a period of reconnecting with all the best things of my life that was, five years back. And it has been a worderful journey in to the mists of time. Speaking to people (or the kind of people) I hung out with then, and finding they have not changed at all. Reading those books and finding I love them just as much.

2010 has had a good start - I'm liking my life and find I have very little to complain about right now. And yet, I'm just waiting with bated breath, to see how much better it can get....

Have a good one people!

Tinted

2009-10-17T22:08:00.000+05:30

I lay out a story and stand back and admire it's gentle blue tones.

He looks at it and says 'Oh! I didn't know you do pink.'

The story is white and we need to clean our glasses.

Goodbye me

2009-10-08T23:59:00.001+05:30

Every time she walks away from them, she knows she'll miss them. As her she turns away, her smile fades and she thinks of how they make her laugh and make her feel the world is a brighter better place.

Every time she walks away, she knows she will miss the person they turn her into...

Larger than life

2009-10-07T00:13:00.000+05:30

Isn't it amazing what we can live through? Stark poverty, extreme physical pain, heart break and trauma. The remarkable human ability to adapt and to compensate and to survive.

But every once in a while, you lose something that is so integral to you, that surviving the loss seems to be the lesser outcome. A compromise. And in a perfect world, such heart break, such grief, should rightfully mean the end of everything else.

The worst Life can do to you then, is to make you stand up again and force you to continue your life, with a crutch, if need be. Make you redefine you identity.

And show you, that in spite of your beliefs and conviction that it was the most important thing in your life... you can still go on and even make a better life.

The Star

2009-08-14T02:39:00.000+05:30

He tells her he wants her.
She just smiles, because she knows it isn't about her at all.
He just wants to be the kind of guy who would want a girl like her....

What was the question again?

2009-07-08T01:05:00.000+05:30

Don’t they know the answer is 42?

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Universe-on-PC-to-solve-mystery-of-lifes-origins/articleshow/4746484.cms

Purani Jeans series - Yaari hai imaan mera

2009-06-30T21:25:00.000+05:30

Yeh Dosti...
Friendship is a crazy thing. So much more common and more complex than love. And yet, so little is said about it. It is a blanket word that covers a range of relationships - for each friendship is different, and changes at different stages of life. It is more of a catchall - if it's closer than acquaintance but not as close as love and if it is not family, then it must be friendship.

In otherwords: Acquaintance < Friends < Love, all of which < > family

Hum nahi thodenge...
Coming back to friendship - this one is about those friends you make in school or college. Those really strong bonds and shared memories. People who knew you when you were a different person. People who are different people now...

Why is it that we cannot make the same kind of friendships later in life? And why can't we hold on to the ones that are made, except for the very few?
Those who have lived in a hostel always think of those days as the best years of their lives. But if they were so good, how come no one's tried to replicate it later in life? Why do people leave that life behind and go on to build their own families, acquire their own homes and cars and pets?

Perhaps this is something to do with our development as people - the older you get, the better defined your personality is , the fewer the number of people you can tolerate .

Or maybe it is that friendship is in conflict with the family and love relationships... and friendship must of course lose that battle due to afore mentioned heirarchy.

Maybe the very friendship is based on the fact that it is not as binding or close as love and family. It is like hostels - tolerable and even cozy, but only because you know they are temporary.

Purani Jeans series - Poorer n Happier

2009-06-30T21:10:00.000+05:30

This isn't about the old line 'Money can't buy happiness'. The lack of money can sure lead to some unhappy times. And knowing you have the money to pay your debts, provide for your loved ones or just splurge on a big fat wedding can give you some moments of joy.

Most people I know remember a time when they were happier - coincidentally, those were also times when they didn't earn as much. And strangely, back then, everyone thought that all they needed was more money to make them happier.

Is it really money that saps the joy out of your life?
Or is it the very process of making money? The barter of time and effort in exchange for money and all the things it can buy.
Or is it the accumulation of things - things that need to be cared for and protected? For after all, you spent a lot of money on them.

Isn't it so easy to lose track of what you really want - give away valuable time and effort to get money that you spend on high maintenance clutter that just saps you of the energy left to you?

Money means nothing - it is just the link binding the two... it could so easily be taken out of this equation. What you are left with is 5 working days in exchange for a teak wood sofa that needs to be polished and cannot be moved without hired help. Was it worth it?

Purani Jeans series - Choice

2009-06-30T20:48:00.001+05:30

A friend and I were reminiscing... The usual 'purani-jeans' talk of how things were so different in college - poorer, yet happier. And he mentioned how they used look at fancy restaurants (or the newly launched Pizza Hut) and say 'When I get a job, I'm going to have a lunch here!'. And another place which got the response of 'They require formal shoes!!! How will we ever go there?'.

Now, he wears leather shoes to work everyday, and hates them. I've never known him to go to a place that required shoes, he's vetoed them every time they've come up. Sometimes he's traveled for an hour, just to get back home to change in to comfy shoes and then go out to eat.

When I was in college, I'd made a list of the things I would buy when I got that wonderful job. I don't remember the whole list, but I do know it included an Ipod, a Sony Vaio and a Scorpio. I have none of these things and now think buying any of them now would be a waste of money.

The fact that I could possibly afford them, but don't want them, has made all the difference... That's what choice does - it doesn't necessarily change your life, it just lets you decide that this is way you want things to be. And it's amazing how much happier you can be in the same circumstances, just knowing that you chose them.

Orwell's pigs

2009-06-17T01:18:00.001+05:30

Funny thing about equality - you cannot give it to some and not to others. And you cannot take it away from one and let the other keep it. Which is why I find statements like 'equality for women' a little strange. What you are saying is 'equality for everyone' - and that doesn't sound too bad, does it?

My mom used to tell us of this old Brahmin lady who was our neighbour around the time I was just born. This lady was a big help to my mother and had a heart of gold. My brother often insisted on eating at her house. My mom did not want to impose on her, but she could not repay her in kind. Being Brahmin, she could not eat food made in our house - it was 'madi' or 'unclean'. Having grown up on a diet of anti-casteism literature, I was stunned to hear this - we had a neighbour who thought us unclean? And my mom was friends with her? To which my mother simply said 'In her case, she had earned the right to be superior'. Of course, it took me a few years to realise that this lady did not really think of us as inferiors. The madi doctrine has been handed down to her and while she did not believe in it in principle, it was ingrained in her and she could not refute it either.

I remember thinking that we were so lucky - my brother got to eat at both houses, while she never had the chance to eat our food. And she really missed out on a lot!

This is true of all inequalities. One may be superior, but even superior is unequal. And somewhere or the other, you are losing out.

When we talk of women's lib and equal rights, I don't understand why men don't stand up for equal rights too - an equal right to be a house husband, equal household responsibilities. Or when some others complain of gender baises, why don't they see that they are caused by this same inequality? In college, most women got more interview calls because there were only so few women - a product of our society that does not like to send daughters to MBA college.

No one can be equal, till everyone is.

If the kids knew!!

2009-06-07T13:18:00.001+05:30

As a child, I believed in an orderly universe. I believed that the centuries the human race had spent on this planet had been productive and the adults had sorted out this world and how to live in it. All our interactions with each other, what is right and wrong. It was all figured out and I just had to grow up to enter that world. Which was why I obeyed my elders - they must know what they are doing. You don't spend 25 odd years here without learning something...

Now that I've entered that adult world, I've realised that I'm just about as smart as I was at 8. Maybe a little dumber in someways. What has changed is my confidence - and self assurance and stupidity are a deadly combination. Scarily, we see this at work in too many politicians and corporate leaders. Attaining majority does not confer enlightenment....

Also, I've realised that the world we have and the systems we have were made by staggering and stumbling about for the last so many centuries. We still depend on brute force to decide rights - as kids we called this a scruffy fight, as adults we have wars. We still squabble about superiority - as kids we said 'my daddy strongest' and now we say "my religion/language/country/caste/colour strongest'. And anyone who drives on these roads knows that it is the same jostling, pushing and jumping lines that happens when you are walking - except now you do it with vehicles which could crush you.

Watching Star Trek yesterday brought it back to me. The childish faith that we had a fool-proof adult world. In movies, things are all well planned. The challenge, the drama comes from the unexpected human error or frailty. But that actually just the opposite in this world. We have a little too much human frailty, it is order that comes as a surprise.

Perhaps we take adulthood too seriously. What we need is someone to come and smack the presidents on the head when they go to war; and say, go to your room! And no dinner till you apologise!

If I knew that the world only has overgrown kids, and just how stupid they can be, I wouldn't have taken them so seriously.

The end is near!

2009-06-05T01:16:00.000+05:30

Ever met the cynic? The kind of person who has to look for and point out the worst in everything? Who anticipates doom in every occurence and looks at everyone with a suspicious gaze? I don't like their company. cannot bear to have them bring me down with their negativity. But I get trapped with them often, because I cannot understand them and so don't recognise the signs.

I can understand the realists - the ones who wouldn't want to put a rosy spin on things to make them bearable. The people who don't want to delude themselves. It is healthy and necessary.

I can understand the optimists. The ones who don't have the strength to face up to the truth and so are blind to it or add their own pretty interpretation to things. It is not healthy and sometimes it can be dangerous too. But when the truth is really grim, this can give you the hope you need to just survive.

But why would you willingly corrupt a perfectly harmless present? Or why would you add sorrow to an already tough situation. Or temper happiness with your own shade of pessimism?

Is it because the cynic is afraid of hope? Because he can't bear to have unmet expectations and so keeps his expectations as low as possible?

Is it an inherent negativity that screens everything she sees? Past sorrows that make her expect the worst of everything else?

Or is a stand of superiority? Is it the cynic's way of showing that he is not afraid to the face the unpleasant truth?

But then, isn't it a much higher cowardice that makes you shy away from the pleasant truth?

The photograph

2009-05-28T04:15:00.001+05:30

She walked in to the cafe with a determined step. This was their third meeting, but this time was different. This time, she had no strings holding her back. She had just cut them, as gently and cleanly as she could. But these things were never that easy, were they?

Before coming here, she had met that other someone... the one she had expected to live her life with. She had told him that it was over and that someone else would fulfill the promises he had made her. Someone else would tie that knot, someone else would share her life and grow old with her. Except, this someone was approved by her parents, shared her background and had a good job. And while she didn't know too much about him, she knew he was a good man.

And here she was, sitting across the good man. Wondering how life had brought her here. She thought she had finally figured out why she was marrying this relative stranger. But why was he marrying her? So she asked him.... "Why me? How can you be sure?"

And he told her. How he never had planned it this way. That he had not thought he was ready for marriage or that he wanted to go the arranged marriage route. But when they showed him her photograph, everything changed. In that picture, he saw his soulmate, his comforter and support. He saw the woman who would be the mother of his children. And it all just felt right.

He didn't hear her catch her breath or see the ironic twist in her smile. And he didn't know she was thinking to herself "That's what the person who took the picture thought when he took it"

Progress and development

2009-05-16T14:05:00.000+05:30

What did people do before they invented the nail cutter?

How did they drink from a coconut, before straws were invented?

The atlas companies must really hate Google!

How did we solve language debates before Webster? And how did he become the authority on definitions?

Remember the times we had to actually listen to a song 3 times to note down the lyrics? (I seemed to know more song lyrics back then)

And on a related note - do you remember when the cassete ribbon got stuck in the player and you had to take it out and then use a pencil to roll it up again?

Imagine the days before players and recorders, where you had to listen to your tone deaf relatives singing for entertainment...

How did we ever manage to meet anyone in a crowded place, before cell phones?

The squeaky wheel

2009-05-14T01:02:00.000+05:30

I was discussing automatics and manual transmissions with a car crazy friend. He's not a fan of the automatics and said that it can be quite boring to drive one if you are used to the manual. The left leg feels rather jobless, he says. I continue to think that the manual transmission was made in one of the less inspired moments of mechanical engineering, but I understand his view. He loves driving, and the manual gear changing makes you feel more engaged - timing and executing it just right, almost as though you are talking to the car. You want to be the one driving and the car is letting you, by not handling everything itself.

This got me thinking of my friends and the 'nice guys finish last' paradox.

Have you seen this happen - be nice to people and they treat you like dirt. Treat people like dirt and they are nice to you.

And I don't necessarily mean bad people - regular people, even me. I have some friends who are complete darlings, always ready to help, very low maintenance. And I seem to contact them only when I need something.

There are others who drive me up the wall, get me mad with their constant demands and some who've even made me cry - and these are the ones I actively seek out.

Have you seen the guys who always fall for the beautiful but attention crazy, high maintenance, fussy and general helpless damsel in distress? Even while they are surounded by sensible and no-nonsense women?

Have you seen the bratty selfish kid who is usually the favorite child?

I've been on the other side too. People I was nice to would forget my very existence. And just when I decided they were not worth my time and stopped 'giving them bhav', they came back to me and suddenly wanted to be best buds.

So, what's the attraction? Why do we only like people who don't treat us well? Why do we like the demanding manual and ignore the 'make-life-easy' automatic?

In part, I think it is because when someone acts important, we tend to believe they are important. Self-centered and demanding people usually come with a generous dose of charm, they create a glamourous aura. And you want to be associated with someone who feels special.

A little of it also because the high maintenance people make us feel needed. A bit like a hero in a fairy tale.

But I think the manual-automatic analogy shows another and deeper truth - the high maintenance people keep us engaged in the relationship. They constantly remind us of their existence, for good or for bad. And they make us a part of their lives, or rather, become a part of our lives. It is harder to ignore the creeper that draws it's entire support from you and easy to ignore the independent oak that doesn't bother you at all.

And that is perhaps the strongest vein that runs through all relationships - shared experiences, shared memories.

Having solved this to my satisfaction, I would like to end here. But I don't want to leave the impression that a relationship is engaging only when one person is a jerk. The same effect is achieved by people who invite you to share in their lives - who tell you what has been happening in their lives, who spend time with you and invite you to the things they participate in. And I do think that pleasant shared memories make for better relationships that unhappy shared memories.

Nice people tend to be polite. They tend to be reticent of their own lives, because they don't want to intrude, while in fact they are shutting the other person out.

PS - A century of blog posts

To share is to care.....

2009-05-12T23:21:00.000+05:30

I find something interesting. I want to tell people.

Do I go all last century and spam my friends' email IDs so they can forward it to their office worker friends?

Do I put it up on my gtalk status message for all my friends and other random people on my list to see?

Do I individually ping only the people who will appreciate it?

Do I blog about it for the whole world to know?

Do I put it up as a facebook post so that only the under 25 yrs olds who understand and actively use facebook will read it?

Do I share it on google reader, so only the geeks read it?

Do I post it on an e-group or forum where it will be relevant?

Religion & Politics

2009-04-29T00:08:00.000+05:30

I generally try to keep this blog a-political and un-opinionated. But this is an exception. Please note, this is based entirely on people I know and conversations I've had. If you don't agree, please leave a comment. I'd love to be corrected on this one.

In Erich Segal's book 'The Class', one of the main characters is Jewish. And by Jewish, he means, of Semitic descent. The character doesn't have any strong faith, is blonde and born American. Yet, throughout his life, he gets discriminated against because of his origins. Through the book we see the character face up to it and how he finally makes peace with it. The reason this character and this story stayed with me is that I didn't quite understand it. To me, religion has always meant a faith, a belief. Not a community. Definitely not origins and race.

For the longest time, I thought the same of religion politics in India. When I heard of riots and killings in the name of religion, I thought that both sides were fanatics - they were killing either to defend their faith or because their faith demands it. The highly traditional garb of the fundamentalists (on both sides of any conflict), the language they speak and the arguments they put forth, all went to add to this misapprehension.

Of course, I've learnt of my mistake now. Most conflicts are a result of a political agenda, of some need to protect a community. Your religion is not the identifier of the belief system you hold, but the community that you belong to. Most people involved in these conflicts convince themselves that they are fighting for their faith or their God; while they are actually fighting for power, power for their community.

So, what is the big surprise? Why am I suddenly all worried?

It all started with conversations around the same theme - I hate Narendra Modi.

I hate him for the obvious reason of the Godhra riots. I hate him for allowing, and most probably encouraging, the riots. I hate him for his unapologetic tone in the aftermath. And I hate him for saying that it is all excusable because he is pro-commerce. I hate him for his bravado now. He was either un-conscionable for having used his power against the people he was meant to serve. Or he was incompetant for being unable to protect the people he was meant to serve. Or both.

Okay, if you are lost in this very long monologue, let us list what we have established so far -

1. By religion, most people mean community, not faith. They just convince themselves that they also mean faith.

2. I hate Narendra Modi.

Now we come to part 2. Given my strong feelings on the Modi subject, I assumed that most rational, urban, non-fanatical, nominally religious person under the age of 25 would also feel the same. No, I don't fall into most of these categories, but I seemed to think that this demograph would probably follow my own rationale. But this was the conversation that I recently had with one such statistic. Disturbingly, it closely echoes two other conversations I've had with people in the same bracket-

(We were watching TV, and they showed Modi campaigning)

Yuppie - I love Narendra Modi. I think he should become the Prime Minister.

Me - WHAT?!?! Was that a joke?

Yuppie - (surprised look) What? No... Just look at the progress he has got to Gujurat! If the whole country had him at it's helm, imagine what we could do!

Me - And what about the riots? The mayhem? All the lives and property lost?

Yuppie - Well, you can't blame Modi for that. And look at all the good he has done.

Me - And that makes up for it? A few thousands of people are dispensible if it means we'll have good roads?

Yuppie - Arre, why are you getting so hyper? See, we live in a democracy... all these things happen because the people want them to. And of course I'll support progress, I'm a capitalist.

Me - The people want it? What does that mean? How can you ever justify the killing of innocent citizens because one set of people want it? There have to be some ground rules! I, as a citizen of this country with equal rights to everyone else, have a right to live!

Yuppie - Well, that is your opinion... and I respect that...

Me - Opinion?!?!?! (note to myself - must find more ways of showing indignant disbelief. Shreiky screams do not give the impression of righteous wrath). You call my right to live an 'opinion'??

Yuppie - Well, frankly, I think they deserved it. You don't know what they are like......

The yuppie went on to tell me of some very tame run in he had in the past, with some of the people of a different community, while I looked on in disbelief. And for some background - his roots are in a region that has seen a lot of conflict, although he hasn't lived there for any part of his life.

This conversation stunned me then and for a few days later. The reason for this was that this guy does not have, nor does he even pretend to, have any strong religious or idealogical affiliations. He is one of our carefree youth that has a healthy disregard for traditions passed down over the years and a very hazy understanding of how his religion works. He is definitely NOT of the fundamentalist camp.

And yet he (and two others) felt this way. Because, at the bottom of it, he also saw people as a part of a community. Not as individuals who happened to feel a certain way. And he was extrapolating a set of experiences in his past to a completely different set of people in a different time and place.

Some of these same people have told me that religion is at the root of all these problems. But if even the not-so-religious can feel this way, doesn't it mean we are just fighting for our own subsect of people, and to hell with all the rest? And if we didn't have religion, wouldn't we come to this point on some other way to divide people in to smaller groups?

And in the end of it all - does this mean that there is just no solution to this mess, that all attempts are hopeless?

The Shallow test

2009-04-09T20:56:00.001+05:30

Answer me this:

Uncomfy seat next to hot chick/dude OR comfy seat next to ugly/boring/old person?

I never understood the male fascination about sitting next to a cute girl on a flight or in a waiting room. This is why I reasoned that it was not worth the excitement:

80% of the time, you will not even speak through the whole journey.

17% will be short conversation with no exchange of numbers.

2% of the time, she will probably give you a fake number

Of the 1% of the time you actually exchange numbers, there is a 0.9% possibility of:

1. You not calling her ever

2. You calling her and finding out she is in a serious relationship or already married

3. You calling her, chatting up, and then finding out that you don't really hit it off...

So, there is only a 0.1% chance of it going even beyond a couple of conversations... Of course, logic does not feature when men consider their chances of meeting their dream woman. Probably why most of the guys I know loved the movie 'Serendipity' (which I hated). But I'll save that for another post...

So, coming back to my incomprehension - there are other things I don't understand. Like men being polite to any pretty girl. Picking up bags for a complete stranger you will never see again, just because she looks good.

The common complaint is of women getting favours - like preference in a job interview. But if it is a sustained interaction (like a job) I can understand it, even if I don't approve of it. I know I've mentioned men specifically... but I've seen it happen with women too.

Now I have another phenomenon to add to this, which is most ways is more bizzare. That of people being nicer to people who appear rich - dress well, speak well, have a fancy car. A friend recently told me of how he went to his usual ATM, dressed in a crisp shirt with shades on instead of the normal tee-shirt and jeans. And the guard sprung up to hold the door open for him. At the pharmacy recently, the woman at the counter was being very rude to the people in front of me and saying things like 'this is the problem when we serve people like you...' although the issue seemed to be only that the construction worker ahead of me didn't have the right change. But when I stepped up, she was all sweetness and light.

What bothers me in these exchanges is the lack of any real motive... The man picking up the bags doesn't expect the girl to fall in love with his chivalry. Or reward him in any way for the inconvenience, beyond and smiling 'thanks'. The guard at the ATM knew he wouldn't be tipped...

But this differential treatment, without hopes of material benefit, seems to indicate a belief that these people 'deserve' to be treated better. That in just being good looking or richer (or appearing so), you are better human beings. And that goes against all my ingrained beliefs of equality for all.

So of the two - preferential treatment for your own benefit vs preferential treatment without hopes for any benefit - I would would consider selfishness the lesser evil.

Making your own road

2009-04-03T23:06:00.000+05:30

I know MBAs are a much maligned race. Esp by MBAs themselves. They are known for preferring the copy+paste function to actual hard work, for disgusing a lack of knowledge in words of more than 4 syllables and for being all fluff and no stuff. Of loving money above all else.

But as I look at all the MBAs around me, I find an increasing number of them breaking away. An MBA degree can teach you to faff. But more importantly - it teaches you to recognise faff. And that ability can make your vision surprisingly clear.

Not the same-old same-old

The reason I am changing my mind about my fellow MBAs is the discontent I see in them, in their cushy office jobs. In their routine and mundane lives, with all the material fitments. The dialogue has been going on for a long time - "I want to quit and start my own restaurant." "How do I get a job as a photographer for the National Geographic?" "I'm sick of living out of a suitcase! I want to quit and join a rock band!"

While some of this talk fizzles out into complacency and habit, not all of it does. There was the friend who kept talking of how he wants to be in sports management - and with a lot of follow up, he finally did get a break in that direction.

And another friend who has recently displayed amazing talent in photography and is well on her way to being a professional photographer, with media coverage and accolades.

Zara hatke

And then there is the approach - more than half the people I know want to start something of their own. But, to date, no one has suggested any business idea approaching the ordinary. It might be the marketing classes we had about 'filling a gap in the market', or the 'first mover advantage' that they told us about in Micro-economics. But no one wants to 'copy-paste' a successful BPlan. When I hear of start-ups, I hear an analysis of the model and how it is innovative - not how much money it is making. Although revenue estimates and projections also follow....

Live case study of the day

This brings me to one of the best ideas and implementations I have seen. veriCAR.

Having seen it practically unfold before me, I may be expected to be a little biased. But I am not. This truly something that is 'awe' worthy.

In brief - veriCAR aims to solve the age-old problem of the 'lemons' in used car sales. They act as an independent assessor, valuing a used car and giving the buyer an expert opinion on condition and price. Something like an auditor, or a ratings agency. But they avoid the 'conflict of interest' pitfalls that auditors and ratings agencies recently did stumble on, by being buyer funded and not dealer funded.

The concept itself, I think, is laudable. The problem of imperfect information in used cars sales is such an age-old problem, that it has become the classic case study in game theory. And yet, no one that I am aware of has tried to find a practical solution to it. If implemented right, this could change the way the entire industry functions.

An then there is the execution. Yes, these are highly qualified people, who could have chosen to get paid obscene amounts to sit in front of a computer all day. But they are not afraid to get out in the Mumbai heat and get their hands dirty. No - they are not hiring a bunch of underpaid minions to do all the work for them, while they sit back and 'strategise'.

I do see great things ahead for them. And it will be very well deserved!

As time goes by....

2009-01-14T00:22:00.000+05:30

I logged in to Orkut after a very long time. And checked through my testimonials again - the ones that were written for me and the ones I wrote.

Perhaps the best thing about online communities is that they let you keep a record of yourself. As I read through all that was written, I saw some common themes come up and realised that they were so true back then, but would not be written now. With some things it is a pity and a loss along the journey of life, but some others are the result of a conscious effort to move away.
And then, the rare few things that have stayed exactly the same....

And then there are the profile pics - classmates standing in formals, next to their company logos. Some others posing with their kids. And some more friends in foreign locales. Sometimes an unknown face looking back at you over a known name, since you simply haven't met in such a long time.... Each picture telling me how far they have come since the way things were.

Makes you wonder what more is to come. 3 years back, this is not how we pictured ourselves... 3 years from now, how will things be? How many of these dear friends will become just familiar names? How many more will come in and become dearer still?
Of the, say, 200 people on the list, how many will you have a major falling out with? How many of these will stun you - for the good or the bad - with what they achieve in their personal lives? How many will be in the newspapers - for the right or wrong reasons?

Chances are, all 200 will surprise you one way or the other. And the biggest surprise will be yourself.

The market has priced it in....

2008-12-03T21:14:00.000+05:30

There is this part in Dark Knight, where the Joker tells Batman that people are stunned and shocked not because of the degree of evil, but because of the unexpectedness of it. He says something to the effect of 'Today, if I were to announce that tomorrow at noon, I will blow up a bus full of people, then when it happens tomorrow, no one will be outraged. They have already adjusted to the idea'.

Human beings are said to have survived so well because of their ability to adapt so well - to extreme climates, to adverse circumstances, to noise and smell.

But what was once a survival tactic, is perhaps now threatening our existence.

Our famed ability to 'adjust' is what makes it possible for us to live with bad bosses, unhappy relationships, bad governance and rude neighbours. It is also what makes us blind to the possibilities of what could be and how things can be improved. Which is why a 'fresh perspective' is so necessary in most organisations.

When the Mumbai terror attack started, and through the three days that it went on for, quite a few people said that they were stunned - that it could happen at the Taj, that it be in Colaba. One cameraman said 'Kashmir main aisa hota hai, pata hai mujhe. Par Mumbai mein aisa ho raha hai!'

Maybe this surprise and the resultant outrage will move us to action - I hope. But about the non-surprising aspects of terror - the lives lost in Kashmir and the Northeast and the ineffectual government - how do we strum up the necessary outrage to fight them?

Can we get a 'fresh perspective' on them and make people say 'Just because it has been happening for years, DOES NOT make it alright!'?

Bombay CAN stop!

2008-12-03T20:27:00.000+05:30

'Resilience' is not a compliment anymore - it's an insult. The first time you bounce back, it is a sign of bravery. The second time, it is stoicness. The third time it is persistence.

But when it happens for the 14th time, it is because you have no other choice. You are back on the train, a day after a blast, not because of your resilience. But because your life is not worth much. Because if you don't risk your life to get to work today, someone else who is willing to risk his life will take that job.

Because our leaders have not been able to give us the dignity of thinking our lives are worth saving.

With all that talk of the industrious and generous people of Mumbai, they have not even given them decent roads and a proper transport system. Why must millions of industrious commuters lose hours of their life everyday, crammed into a smelly and filthy compartment? Why are all the jobs in South Mumbai, when affordable housing is only on Mira Road? How can the excuse for lax security at CST be - "everyone is in a hurry, no one has the time"? If you can spare 2 hours for travel to work, why can't you spare 5 minutes to secure your life?

Why don't we have more Mumbais in this country - places where people can find jobs, where women can feel safe at 1am, where anyone can feel at home 2 hours after arriving?

Why can't Mumbai and Mumbaikars afford to take a breather?

The extra-ordinary middle class life.

2008-11-27T00:09:00.000+05:30

You see people waiting for the train, the sea of faces. The supposed mass of mediocre lives. But do you really see mundane-ness? The teenager gossiping loudly on the phone. The mother shepherding her little toddler in to the compartment. The lady selling bangles, the girl in the shiny tee-shirt. Each face has a story behind it. A different set of hopes and worries. Those hopes may not include world domination, or a red Ferrari. But perhaps they are the worries that matter after all. It is the difference between Aditya and Joe in Rock On - why did Aditya's life and worries seem a sham to me, not worth the airtime spent on them. And why did Joe and Debbie's life strike a chord?

You see the old worn faces, but do you see someone who is obsolete and just coming in the way of the future? Or do you see a lifetime of experience and wisdom? The old lady in the cotton sari, limping across the road - who knows what life has shown her. The good times, the bad... Fortune and misfortune. Deaths of loved ones, the betrayal of those close to you and the shattering of life-long beliefs. Windfalls and the kindness of strangers. What places has she been to? The remote village and then the big bad city? Or has she travelled the world and compared other cultures disfavourably with ours? She has perhaps seen a word we will never see - pre-independance India. The brimming potential of a yound nation. The cosmopolitan Bombay. And then watching that city grow old and crowded and regressive. And then see the young arrogant brats take over and oust you from it. Watching children grow up and leave and friends grow old and die.

And then you wonder, what will life take you through? What surprises lay in store for you?

2008-11-18T00:32:00.000+05:30

Advertisement at CCD, for one of they innovative offerings - 'Almond Mango Slice (Eggless)'

Ummm....

2008-11-18T00:28:00.000+05:30

Milestone like marking (except it didn't show miles) at the beginning of the trek to Malangad. It says 'Pyar hi Pyar' and something about some fauji.

Found it kinda neat, that someone felt the need to put up a sign declaring 'Pyar hi Pyar'....

2008-11-16T18:47:00.000+05:30

Tombstone seen in a cemetry on Prospect Street, Marlborough, Massachussets, USA -

"Four praying Indians who rest within the ancestral praying field"

Died - 1665
Disturbed - 1951
Reburied - 1992

They lived and died in a time and space entirely different from mine. And I doubt the thought of people to come in lands across the world, ever crossed their minds. But when I saw this tombstone, I felt a bond with them, and wondered about their lives. Perhaps it was because of the epitaph field, and because some day I also shall 'rest within the ancestral praying field'.

Without blame

2008-10-20T01:15:00.000+05:30

I've never been a fan of war movies. Not because of the violence or the quality or the authenticity - some movies out there are brilliant pieces of art and go to great lengths to stick to the facts.

But I never have been able to stomach more than one movie on the same war - there is only so much you can say, and only so much you can watch. And at the end of the day, I'd rather not be told just how despicable and greedy people can be, if there is nothing I can do about it.

Which brings me to "Body of Lies" (which is one of these very well made movies) and a particular scene in the movie - a news clip of a bombing in a marketplace in Netherlands, "killing hundreds of innocent civilians".
Why stress the 'innocent' civilian? Are the soldiers dying in a war everyday 'guilty' some how? Is it less horrific if they lose their lives? Is the death of civilians tragic because we have nothing to do with the war and have not taken a stand for or against it?
What about the 'innocent civilians' who live in war zones, with the constant fear of death? Is their life and death just as tragic?

As Crowe says in the movie, is 'nobody innocent' after all? Are we, the civilians, also guilty for just turning the other way? And is this why these movies are made - so that civilians may know what we are supporting, by simply not protesting?

The Week

2008-09-24T01:14:00.000+05:30

September 13th - September 19th 2008.

The glory days for financial journalism. When there was a mad scramble for any news of the market, the Fed, the CEOs. When hundreds of photographers hung around office lobbies, looking for pictures of people walking out with boxes. When thousands anxious employees ignored all work, except for the immediate and necessary, to sit glued to google finance and CNBC. When a stock graph became the most fascinating thing to watch.

There will be books written about this week. Books that will probably misrepresent and wildly fabricate the details of what actually happened. Books that will build on the many conspiracy theories now circulating on the week and its happenings. And I will probably read at least one of these books, to understand what the heck actually happened.

But there is nothing that compares to living through it!!

More precious

2008-09-20T04:31:00.000+05:30

The words wouldn't come. He sat in front of his computer for hours everyday, but the words would not come. This didn't used to be so difficult. In fact, writing used to be as easy as breathing, and just as necessary. The words would dance forth, of their own accord, and settle in to beautiful and poignant prose. Prose that won him accolades and fame. Prose that won him the respect and acceptance of the intelligentsia and the bohemians.

But those days were a long time ago. His writing had brought him fame and friends. It had brought him that glittering lifestyle, the bright lights and the beautiful people, the parties, the liquor and the dope. It had brought him the most intelligent and beautiful woman he had ever known, and perhaps the only one he'd ever love.
But then, that lifestyle slowly drove away his talent, and with it, those friends and the fame and almost his very sanity. And in the end, it drove her away too....

He looked at the blank screen again. He thought of how easy it would be to fill that screen with the tripe that sells thousands of copies. He knew the formula, he could churn out those mindless, sappy thrillers and romances. It would not win him any awards. It would not win him respect, it would probably cost him the remnants of respect he had earned in the days when he could still write. And it would forever close the doors of that world to him.

He thought of the days when he had said that he'd never prostitute his writing this way. He'd said that his art was more precious to him to him than mere lucre.

And then he looked across the barely furnished room, at the 4 year old playing on the floor. And with a smile he thought to himself, well, he now had something more precious than his art.

He turned to the computer, and started typing again.

Unsinkable

2008-09-15T23:10:00.000+05:30

It's been an interesting week.

It started out with me complaining about how boring covenants were. It ended with me barely remembering what covenants were. (And man! did I waste so much time on those silly things)

Started with me laughing over how we may soon be working for the Koreans... and ended with me crying that we would not after all be working for the Koreans.

It started with me actually looking forward to the weekend.

Amazing how fast things can change. How easily the unthinkable can happen.
And for all your planning and strategizing, it is the black swan that will rule your life.

Look before you step

2008-08-01T00:01:00.000+05:30

I think I just saw my 'scariest live event': This kid was crossing the road, in a hurry to cross before the vehicles started, and just when he got to the gap in the divider, he disappeared. Accompanied by a loud 'splatch'. The gap in the divider was in fact a very nice rectangular hole in the road. And the kid had fallen into the gutter below. I think my heart really skipped a beat there, till I saw him get up, a little disoriented, and I'm sure a lot worse for wear. But he was up and trying to figure out to get out of it.

What the hell is wrong with us, if we can't even arrange to have safe, walkable roads?? Isn't it someone's job to ensure this happens? We aren't asking for a lot: not clean roads, not comfortable commutes, not that construction doesn't stop till the flyover is actually built, not even proper smooth roads. In Mumbai, you learn to live with all of this.

But when it comes to big gaping holes in the ground, we really should draw a line (in bright yellow, preferably with those red markers all around).

'Because he can take it....'

2008-07-24T02:33:00.000+05:30

I'm not very coherant right now. I just had the experience of watching 'Dark Knight'. Or should I say I 'experienced' Dark Knight? Maybe I'll post more on it once it has all sunk it. Or maybe after I've bought the vcd/dvd and watched it 4 more times, and actually have it all sink in.

Sometimes, movie makers do their audience a favour. They make a movie which is not just a piece of entertainment. It is that, and it makes you think, and it makes to you wonder and it is just a complete piece of brilliance. This movie, by far, is the biggest favour the movie industry has made to mankind recently. To the makers of this movie, a big 'Thank you!!!'

Ok, I will not ruin the effect by putting my stumbling words to describe this work of art.
If you haven't seen this movie, watch it! In a theatre, if possible.
You'll see what I mean.

The stories we could tell...

2008-06-29T12:27:00.000+05:30

So, I made it another Sunday morning movie screening by Enlighten. I beat my own very low expectations of how many movies I'd make it to, when I originally got the 6 month membership in February... In case you are wondering, the Taj Enlighten Society screens classic and foreign language movies every Sunday morning at Cinemax, Versova. More details at their site here. The biggest challenge with watching these movies is the 'Sunday morning' part, as it has a habit of following Saturday evenings and its revelries.

Today's movie L'Orchestra di Piazza Vittorio, marks the last of a month long Italian movie fest. It's a docu-movie on the stitching together of an orchestra of immigrants in Rome. A real life filming of things as they happened, started at the time when they didn't even know if they would be able to pull it off. The movie briefly touches upon many themes - A mission to save a historic theatre that has fallen into disrepair, the quest for music that spans boundaries, the bonds and chasms between people and styles so different, immigration and politics, and the creeping modernism of one of the oldest cities in the world. But that is not the most striking part of the movie.

What you cannot escape, is the individuals that make up that orchestra - their stories, their characters, their situations. The musician who became a threat to his government because he was teaching in the slums in Ecuador. The trumpeter, who at the age of 12, wrote a song on how he wants to leave Cuba. The two irrepressible Indian tabla players, and their infectious enthusiasm. The 'dude' arab and his constantly changing sunglasses. Each of them could fill a full length movie with their own stories.

And that brings me to yesterday's movie - Persepolis. Another auto-bio narrated in a different style. A story of living through a revolution, a war, so many personal losses and trying to straddle vastly different cultures. And the amazing sense of humour that still comes through.

Each story was narrated with love. And with art and music making it more poignant. And there are so many stories around us, if we ever stopped to ask.

Strangers again

2008-06-28T03:14:00.001+05:30

Been too tired and lazy to blog recently. Came across this lovely picture, and figured since a picture is worth a thousand words.....

And what a year!

2008-06-04T01:27:00.000+05:30

And thus we complete a year - a year in Mumbai, a year in Lehman Brothers, a year in this particular flat.

I won't comment on work, or on the flat. But I think Mumbai needs a whole post dedicated to it. It's one of those topics that everyone feels the needs to talk on. Books have been written on Mumbai, songs have been composed for it, movies have been made with it as a theme. And somehow, this constant dissecting of the city and what it's made of never gets tiring.

Now, I would never be presumptuous enough to simply say 'I like Mumbai'. Mumbai isn't that simple to classify. And it doesn't evoke just a simple 'I like' or 'I hate' emotion. The roads, the weather, the local trains, can exhaust you. The life, the speed, the beautiful buildings can take your breath away. And the simple practicality of everything here can stun you.

I like the way everyone here talks of Mumbai more as a process, than as a place. It's not just a lot of harried people from across the country that is called Mumbai. It's the way they all interact with each other. From the first auto waala who told me 'Mumbai mein to baaju waale ka naam bhi pata hota hai' on the first day I came here and was trying to ask around for the way to my apartment building, to the recent taxi driver who said 'Agar aisa hota, to Mumbai kabhi nahi chalta!' in response to a comment that some taxis have faulty meters.

Which brings me to the transport system. The biggest impact on an outsider in any city, is made by the auto and cab drivers. Which is where Mumbai has a huge edge over other cities like Delhi, Bangalore and Chennai. The autos here have spoiled me for anything else.

The city that never sleeps - yes, it's trite and a cliche. But I can't put it a better way. The fact that you can think of 11 pm as evening (ok, the job may have something to do with this), and find a coffee house packed, with autos lined outside till 1am, is perhaps the best thing that the city has to offer. It's like the city gives you more hours per day. But then, you need more hours per day just to get anywhere.

Distances - talk about putting things into perspective. A 45 minute, 80 bucks ride in a auto, is 'close by'. And, if someone calls you at 4pm, to go 'town side' - you regretfully decline as it us too late to go.

And what's with the weather here. Coming from ambiguous Bangalore, which has wintry mornings, summery afternoons and the rainy season whenever the clouds feel like it, such orderly seasons are hard to understand. Blazing hot and humid summers, followed by squelchy and depressing monsoons, followed by two months of nice weather. Every year.

Most people remember the city by one particular thing. For me, it's the attitudes here. The typical Mumbaiwaala. No, it's not the rush they seem to be in all the time. It's not the tough 'don't mess with me' attitude. I'm talking about the incredible rationality they display (at times). Take the local trains, for instance. Incredibly complicated and hard to gauge. And they have them all down pat. And the incident when all the residents in Vasai boycotted the trains for a day, in protest of the fact that they have so few trains. The feeling everyone seems to have, that we are all in this together, and each and everyone of us has to do our part to make things possible. Nash equilibrium - eat that!!

And it is true. Mumbai is a phenomenon. And it wouldn't be possible if the millions that live here didn't do their part. Or atleast half of those millions didn't do their part.

A Mirror Reflection

2008-05-26T21:29:00.000+05:30

He was in a very dangerous location. The enemy had been known to haunt this area. And he had to make his way through some dense jungle area, to reach his camp; and relative safety.

It was when he was hunched down behind a tree, sweat trickling down his forehead and praying like he'd never prayed before, that he heard the sound. A footstep, the light hum of someone breathing, very close at hand. He squinted between the branches and saw him. Someone from the other side, barely two feet away from him.

His life flashed in front of him.. that other world - his wife, his two kids. Waiting back home. The letters he got everyday. Yesterday she'd written to say that the younger one was having trouble in school, struggling with the subjects. Little household problems; the fridge was broken and she'd call the electrician again. Big household problems; Ma had developed a recurring pain in the chest and they needed to take her to the doctor. Life was going on, but at the same time, it was suspended. They were all waiting for him to get back. Waiting for this to be over.

Almost as a reflex, he pulled his gun into position. Like he had been trained to do so many times. Those training sessions seemed so long back. In another world, in another time. But it felt right, didn't need any thought.

It was as he pulled the trigger that it happened. The other man turned and their eyes locked. Barely two feet between them. And he saw eyes that were staring into certain death. The surprise, the incomprehension, the terror. And something else. A sorrow, not for himself, but for something else.

There was the sound of the impact, the glance lost focus and the man crumpled in front of him. And he just he sat there shaking. In that split second, he'd had the overwhelming feeling that he was looking into his own eyes. Eyes that had also bid good bye to a wife and two kids back home. Eyes that had sought the blessings of parents and elders. Eyes that were counting the days when they would see that other world again.

He knew he should move. The gun shot would draw others here, and this was a dangerous place to be. But he couldn't leave. He just sat and stared, in morbid fascination, at that inert figure, the blood pooling in front of him.

Half an hour later, or may be an hour, maybe two... he got up and, on unsteady legs, made his way back to the camp. Nothing had changed - he was the same man of an hour back. And then again, everything had changed. He was the survivor of the encounter. But then again, it was not him that survived. He knew in that moment, that nothing would be the same again. Each day he'd wake up with the knowledge that someone else would not see that day, because of him.

------------------------------------------------------

And he avoided mirrors after that. It was like he could never look into his eyes again.

Why can't it be the same here?

2008-05-19T23:45:00.000+05:30

I don't like people who whine about the city they move to (as a lot of my friends have found out).

I've seen it in Bangalore, and now I see it in Mumbai. People who would move for different reasons, and then bemoan the place they left behind.

In Bangalore it was the pathetic infrastructure (which is true enough) and how pubs close at 11. In Mumbai it is the bad roads and constant traffic.

What a lot of people don't realise is the cause and effect that works here.

You had great weather, wide roads and brilliant public transport. So if things were so great back home, why did you move here? For the jobs, the standard of living, the schools... things that your homes didn't give you. And that may be the reason why things are so much better organised back there. Because your city/town did not have to face the pressure of fast paced industrialisation, of a million people landing on it's railway platforms and looking for jobs, and a place to stay.

It's the cities that pay the price for the towns to stay charming. It's the people in the cities who live in that fast paced and draining world that make it possible for the towns to remain slow paced and easy going. Towns don't need to stock up on good jobs, because it can just send its ambitious few to the cities for those.

When the Government decided to promote Bangalore as an IT destination, it was the people of Bangalore who paid the price, as they saw all that they loved about the city come down before their eyes.

Show some respect for that adopted home. It's what's supplying your living.

Pretend you don't see them

2008-05-19T23:30:00.001+05:30

I'm quite impressed with this designer and especially her idea. I see why Louis Vuitton would be worried. Their multi-million dollar business runs on their name... and she is giving them a bad name. But I'm more taken with the idea of trying to jar people in to seeing what familiarity has made us blind to.

Everyday, I pass by this slum area on the way to work. And I don't see them anymore. At the traffic lights I see them, and then again, I don't. It's not apathy, it's just numbness. Thinking about their plight every time is more than I can handle. So I stop thinking about it.

There are so many messages out there, it's like we've become deaf to all the noise. And each new adverstiser needs to shout louder, getting his message heard, but making us a little more deaf in the process.

The message this designer is sending is pretty loud in itself. And it's worth hearing. But how long till all messages reach this decibel level and we need something louder?

Don't know what you're missing till....

2008-05-18T01:40:00.000+05:30

....you find it?

I've spent a couple of really lovely weekends. I was complaining about how much time I've spent in Mumbai, without going to a lot of the places I wanted to be to. So my similar minded friend volunteered to come with me and we spent a couple of days hanging around Colaba and Bandra - definitely the best of Mumbai. We even explored some of the IIT Mumbai campus.

And it was only then that I realised how much I've missed such days. The Bangalore kinda days. Low on excitement and generally without an agenda. Long pointless arguments with my sister and other girl-friends, on human behavior, origin of words, how societies and cultures formed, why people are nasty and a million other things.

'Daytime' days. Walking around the roadside stalls and picking things that looked interesting (and cheap). Shopping for clothes (with the difference that this time I actually bought things, compared to my earlier I'm-broke-and-only-window-shopping).

Being with people whom you can be nice and courteous too, knowing they will return the favour. This may seem a strange thing to say, but recently I feel I've been surrounded by people who treat you well only if you throw some attitude their way. One of hazards of having studied in a college with less than 8% women, is that most of your friends are men. And I had actually forgotten how much easier an all-girl outing is. There's no explaining it, it's just a lot lesser stress.

And now, suddenly, I'm missing these things again.

Generation Outrageous

2008-05-09T00:34:00.001+05:30

Aunt: So, what do you think? Isn't getting a new car better than getting a second hand car?
Me: Well, new cars are expensive. And the good thing about a Maruti 800 is that if you get it smashed up, at least it won't cost you that much.
Aunt: (stunned silence) Oh my goodness! My heart almost stopped when I heard the words 'Maruti 800' and 'smashed up' together.
Me: Huh? Oh! err.. I meant small scratches and dents you know.. not real smashing up....
(Note to myself: Watch what you say when talking to Aunt!!)

We talk different - my generation, I mean. We exaggerate the bad and gloss over the good.
Some of it may be the world scene and news papers and all the wars and crimes we have seen. Some of it is the American sit-coms, with the 'I'm so cool, nothing can surprise me' tone. Maybe even all the Warcraft and Age of Empires games. I used to get annoyed when my little cousin said 'Damn! I just died' in the middle of those games. Death is not something to joke about, I'd try to say. Now it's just another word, without the associated images of horror and finality.

There may be some psychological reason behind it - the mind tends to trivialize the painful. Or it may be social conditioning. Four letter words are not rude, they show that you are not squeamish or girlie (and how is that bad?). And being called 'nice' is an insult. Coz nice guys never win, and it's all about winning and losing here.

While I can be brutal myself, it worries me, if I ever stop to think about it. I believe that it all just a facade and that behind this show of cynicism and apathy, there are real hearts beating and that there are people who care. But how long before we start believing our own lies?

If clothes maketh the man

2008-05-04T02:06:00.000+05:30

In Mr and Mrs Iyer, the lead characters are supposed to be from diametrically different backgrounds. But when you see the woman, you know exactly what she is - a conservative South Indian Brahmin, married for just a few years, with a small baby, almost definitely vegetarian, who likes her coffee. The guy on the other hand, could be anybody. Which is what made the whole plot possible. Her identity as 'Mrs Iyer' is so firmly established, that just by sitting next to her, he seems a plausible 'Mr Iyer'.

I know I'm generalizing a bit here, but in most cultures, the female attire and manner seem to be more culturally pronounced than the male. A simple example would be dressing up to go out for dinner. Now, I always prefer to know all aspects of the outing, such as how we are traveling, which restaurant we are going to, what time we'll be back and if we'll be stopping by any other place on the way. If the group is all female, these details will be available right in the beginning and any changes in the plan will take into account the way you are dressed and what places are feasible. But when a guy is planning the outing, he'll look very annoyed if asked details of where, when and how.... and if you tell him you need it to decide what to wear, he'll give you the age-old look of 'Women!!'.

But it isn't vanity that's prompting the question (ok, not completely vanity). If I'm going to a dressy place, I need to dress up because that is part of the fun in going to a dressy place... But if I'm dressed up and land up at a regular mall, I'll look completely out of place and probably get some disapproving stares too. If the travel involves jumping into buses or trains, I'm better off in jeans and sports shoes... but if I'm taking an auto, I can risk a dress and sandals. Weddings and social functions are a pure nightmare; wearing westerns can be highly risky and the wrong colours may even put a shadow on the whole festivities. Make up of course is another mine field altogether - too much and you're a tramp, too little and this function is not important enough for you, or you are tom-boy (non-male in some terminology).

But guys get away with tee-shirt and jeans in almost all conditions - from a trekking expedition to a trip to a disco to a wedding reception. There are variations of course, western formals, indian formals, funky party wear, etc... But the scope is still quite narrow.

And this is why, in spite of an overflowing wardrobe, I still don't have the right clothes. And why about 80% of the clothes have never been worn - the right situation for them hasn't come up. And why I need to shop and update so often - high variety leads to low efficiency and inventory build up.

A geek's best friend...

2008-03-29T05:59:00.000+05:30

I've got quality time with my laptop after a long time...

It had been acting up for sometime, what with the My Documents path vanishing, .exe files disappearing and incredibly slow processing. Most people said it was a virus. Some people (the kind I don't like) said that this is what I got if I went messing with the computer all the time.

I think the lappie was just sulking from being ignored for so long.

It's been 2.5 years since I got this laptop. The day the laptops all arrived on campus and were handed out and checked for defects and all that.... I got this one and it looked like it had slight scratches on it. I guess I could have returned it, but I thought, what the heck... a few scratches don't matter so long as it works.... And work it did!!! Almost continuously for 18 months. All the installations, uninstallations, settings changes, restore to factory status.... Working on visio, while listening to music and with a couple of downloads in the background. Through all the commuting between Kozhikode, Bangalore, Chennai, Mumbai... I think the scratches remained just a few (even with my nephew playing the drums on the laptop - with real drum sticks).

But then came my job... and I began to use the laptop just to chat for an hour or so each day. And then the problems started.
No, it doesn't like to be ignored.

So now I've restored it to factory status (again) and am reinstalling all the programs I need. And discovering some more fun programs I don't need, but will probably put in anyway. Feels like the days we first met.... Ohh, joy!

IBM rocks!! But my 3 year warranty is coming to an end.And IBM doesn't make laptops anymore. I dread the day this lappie will die, and I'll have to go and replace with some funky looking higher capacity laptop... which will probably hang all the time, and crash the first time I show it what 'mobility' is supposed to mean.

But till then....

Bone-weary

2008-03-28T00:23:00.000+05:30

My net connection is finally behaving itself again! Yayy, yippee yayy!

This is gonna be another one of those posts, that will read a lot more depressing that is it meant to be. I'm tired, and being me, I can't leave it at that. I must make a list of all the kinds of tired that I've learned of in the last 3 years... the hard way.

The garden variety 'My legs can't hold me up anymore' kind of tired, when you realise you are more out of shape than you thought and this hiking trip was a bad idea. 'Fatigue' in the medical sense.
'I don't want to think anymore. I'll just wait till this passes' kind of tired, when your mind works on 20% efficiency and it's takes 2 minutes for you to even process what you are seeing. A profound disassociation from all that you see, and the feeling that 'Nothing matters'
The 'sick and tired' kinda tired, as in 'I'm sick and tired of my job' or 'I'm sick and tired of my family/friends/boyfriend/girlfriend' or 'I'm sick and tired of being poor'. Used very often and usually incorrectly. You don't know what it means till you've actually felt physically unwell with the thought of going on. Like fatigue, a sign that the correct time to stop was long long ago. And, hopefully, the kind of tired that spurs you to some positive and corrective action.
Body-mind out of sync 1 - When you are exhausted, but your mind refuses to stop thinking, and you just lie there and wait till you stop thinking.
Body-mind out of sync 2- 'I'm awake, but I can't move' feeling. This is something else altogether. Such deep and overpowering sleep, that you literally can't move a muscle, even if your life depended on it.
The good kind of tired. Where you are completely exhausted and truly know the meaning of the word 'Bone-weary'. But it's becauseyou just used your abilities to their full extent. Tiredness is just the by-product of accomplishment. And sleep will come easy and sleep will be sweet. For it will be the rest of the righteous.
The sad kind of tired. When you know all your effort was unrecognised and unavailing. And when you see no end in sight. Sleep will be a short period of escape and some repair-outage time, to face the next day when it comes.

And then of course, there are the times when you are just tired of being tired.....

Games people play...

2008-03-10T02:10:00.000+05:30

In Game Theory, you build everything on the assumption of 'rational and selfish behaviour'. Traits that are not necessarily observed in real life. And the reason 'rationality' and 'selfishness' are assumed, is that you can predict a person's actions only in these cases. As Rhett Butler says in Gone With the Wind, he'd prefer to work with selfish people, because you know they'll only do what's good for them, and hence they are predictable. But 'good' and 'charitable' people on the other hand, could swing in their loyalties quite fast.

I've noticed that most 'smart' people, are just the ones that show the most rationality. They are the chessplayers who have all the moves figured out and always do what makes most sense. And I get to meet a lot of these people nowadays - the ones who have the IRR of every action and every piece of effort all figured out.

But, as the saying goes, it is not the rational people who are the hope of humanity. It is the irrational. It is those who go out do things for no obvious gain, the artists who follow their hearts, or the Mother Teresa's who spend their lives improving the lives of total strangers. The ones who dance in the rain. They make the human race more interesting. And more 'human'.

'Irrational' is a common compliant against women. And I think it is a valid charge. I cannot imagine why any 'rational' woman would put up with the majority of the men out there. Or why she'd willingly go thru 9 months of pregnancy followed by a lifetime of the traumas and heartbreaks of motherhood. It must be the same irrationality that makes her insist that 'peach' and 'melon' are colours. Or that the pattern of the curtains really matter.
Women are irrational. And therein lies hope.

Sab Maya Hai...

2008-02-28T01:13:00.000+05:30

It may be an occupational hazard - getting bombarded with news about subprimes and CDOs and ARMs and other vague concepts that you'd barely heard of a year back. Watching this highly complex structure collapsing all around, and realising with a shock that big magnificient, engineer's fantasy castle, was built on nothing and some more nothing..... And asking yourself 'What's the real value in all this?' coz your job may depend on it...

Or it may be just a life stage. When all your friends and peers around are trying to come to grips with a suddenly complicated life. Rents and newly acquired spouses. 9-9 jobs and local trains. Way too much work, or way too little of it. And dream jobs that are proving to be nightmares. And forgotten dreams that have resurfaced. And you ask yourself 'What's the real deal?', for your sanity depends on it.

And then you start stripping away all the chaff. Trying to drill down to the core of it. If you're an MBA, you will probably use excel or visio for this.

But this question will probably haunt you the rest of your life.
What is real? And what is just a beautiful illusion?

Of love, in all its forms.

2008-02-14T21:51:00.000+05:30

To the ancient Greek, love was not as simple a concept as it is for us today. Ok, the Ancient Greek, by all accounts, we a little bonkers. But I've found their analysis of love pretty interesting (although not some of their practical interpretations of it).

CS Lewis once wrote a book based on this, called 'The Four Loves'. It was about the four different words in Greek, that translate into the English word love, but mean very different things.

Storge or affection - This is most akin to a family feeling. I guess something like 'mamata'. A love that exists just for the bonds between the two people. It is not earned or deserved.
Philia or friendship - A love that is earned. Two people who find something they share and so begin to care for each other.
Eros or romantic love - The kind of love we most easily recognise today. This kind of love may or may not have a carnal element to it. But it is not dependent on it.
Agape/Caritas or unconditional love - The most pure form of love. The love held by God for his people, however unworthy they may be of it. Humanity, charity, all stem from this love. The least rational, and so, the most beautiful form of love.

Love is perhaps one of the subjects most worthy of study. For it really does make the world go round. What makes people do the crazy things they do? You will inevitably find behind it some form of love. Love of self, love of power, love of fame... And love of another....
It could be your salvation, or it could be your destruction.

Who's your Valentine?

How to make a Rambo movie in 5 easy steps

2008-01-30T12:11:00.000+05:30

1. Look for a war
2. Look for a clean cut war - as in, there is clearly a 'good' side and a 'bad' side
3. Build a situation within the war, which will necessitate goras entering the picture
(The above 3 steps should lead to a politically correct reason to kill a lot of people.)
4. When all about ingredients are in place, throw in a woman... no, don't bother finding a logical reason for her being there, no one's gonna think that much
6. Get lotsa ammo, kill lotsa ppl, splatter them all over the screen (woman stands on the bylines and goes 'no, no, no'). This should take about 1 hr 20 mins of the 1 hr 33 mins of running time.

Faust

2008-01-30T01:33:00.000+05:30

"God forbade it indeed; but Faustus hath done it. For vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood: the date is expired; the time will come, and he will fetch me.”

Talk about bad bargains! Faustus sold his soul for ‘complete knowledge’. And the most important knowledge he got, was that he had made the wrong choice.

And yet mankind has a knack of repeating the same mistakes over and over again. Throwing away the precious for the ephemeral.

Maybe life is also like trading on the stock exchange. You use incorrect valuation models. You equate power, money and knowledge with happiness. And it is only when you are forced to sell out and close your position, that you realize that all that you have worked all your life for nothing. And that the moving against the herd was the best strategy.
Maybe that is why people smile less the older they get. For they accumulate bad bargains over the years.
What bad bargains have you made recently? And are you still making them?

On debits and credits...

2008-01-27T02:06:00.000+05:30

Accounts suck! And I dont mean only the finance kind.

The day you wake up and decide to tally all the gives and the takes in your life, and realise that you've got the short end of the stick. That's the day your life changes. And you become just another one of those people who are just watching their back, trying to make sure there are not the losers, the suckers, the ones taken for a ride.

There is a joy in giving. An intagible payback in doing something just because it is right. A brightness and lightness to your life.
But this is a joy only the naive know. The day you wisen up, is the day you lose this.

I've seen this with a lot of people I know. Naive, sweet, dependable people, who would always be taken for granted. But they were also the happiest ones. Perhaps, in their innocence, they were wiser than this street smart world.

But those people have grown up now. They only do what's best for them. They look at everyone with suspicion in their eyes. Like the child who is happy with a broken toy, who grows up into the man who is unhappy in his 2bhk and two cars.

Just don't go there. Some people can only take. They are built that way. And they are the ones who lose out.

Nada

2008-01-21T22:17:00.000+05:30

I hate competitions. I find them pointless and a criminal waste of value. Why put in all that effort if in the end, it’s just a zero-sum? Part of the reason why I never got sports (the other part being, I’m just plain lazy).
I’m more of ‘there’s place for one more’ and a ‘we can work this out’ kinda person. Mebbe I’m a wimp. But I like it this way.

But I’m changing. I’m so different from the person I used to be. And while I’m not sure I like the person I’m becoming, I know there’s no going back.
From the idealist I was taught to be, to the cynic I’m being molded into… I’m trying to find a middle path. I'm trying to manage my expectations...
Don’t expect too much, or the world will disappoint you.
Don’t expect too little, or you’ll disappoint yourself.

Ships

2008-01-09T00:07:00.000+05:30

She saw him at the supermarket. In the home cleaning aisle. A vaguely familiar face, checking his shopping list to make sure he had the right brand. And then he frowned, and that brought it all back to her. Fifteen years back, when they lived on the same street. Secret meetings, sneaking to the movies together, promises of forever...

It hadn't worked of course. Maybe they had always known it wouldn't. But they had pretended not to. They had pretended that they were really shocked when their parents refused, when she was married off to someone else. May be they even pretended that they had actually loved each other. Anxious for romance, for drama...

So this was where he was now. Good thing she was just visiting here, and would be leaving in a day. He looked a little more weary. A little more gray. But the frown was just the same. Strange, that in all those promises of forever, she had never imagined him growing old... But he still looked good. Dignified.

She gathered all this in a glance. And then whipped around and headed into the next aisle, the cosmetics section. Meeting like this would be embarrassing. What would she say? Would he even recognise her?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

He saw her at the supermarket. Turning into the cosmetics aisle. A vaguely familiar face, towing a teenage girl along. The girl looked just like someone he used to know. And he realised with a shock that it was her daughter. And that middle aged woman must have been her. Funny, he had told her that he'd always think she looked beautiful... Guess he had been wrong. Which was good, the way things had turned out.

He had always wondered about them. Why she hadn't put up more of a fight for them.
It had been difficult, but it could have worked. And life would have been so different if it had. It had taken so long for him to get over her. He'd just packed up and left the city, to heal better.

He looked down immediately, in case she turned around and recognised him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening, she wondered about him, and if she should have at least to spoken to him.
That evening, he decided to shop somewhere else next time.

The Manifestation...

2008-01-07T23:56:00.000+05:30

Jan 6th 2008, Sunday - Epiphany, or the Manifestation. The day when the 3 wise men found Jesus, led by the star.

I attended mass at Chakala Church. The priest spoke on the Star. And I felt that the sermon may have been made especially for me. He spoke about the signs that God sends us, to show us the way. He spoke of how the shepherds didn't see the star, for they would not have known it's significance. They got a different sign. And Mary and Joseph were given other signs, to show them what was God's will. And they were given signs that they could have easily missed, if they had been distracted by the noise of the world. And then the sermon moved to the signs we have in our lives. The way God nudges you in the right direction. And how sometimes, we lose sight of the star, and get lost.

I think I have lost sight of my star. I try to envision my future, and draw a blank. As Seneca said, "If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable". I know I need to change direction soon, but which way do I need to go?

Keep your hands off private property!

2008-01-05T02:48:00.000+05:30

I was shocked to hear of the news of the two women molested outside Juhu Marriot on New Year's. Not shocked to hear that it happened, for I know of worse things that have happened, but shocked that it happened in Mumbai.

I've seen how women are treated in many different cities. There are some places where women would not venture out after 8pm, even in a car. Some places where they would go out only in large groups or with male company. Some places where women wouldn't go out even in broad daylight. And this is not paranoia. You can just feel the nature of the place. I automatially feel unsafe and uncomfortable in some areas. Mumbai is the only place where I don't get this feeling. In the seven months I've been here, I've felt uncomfortable being outside only once. And that was an exception.

'Molestation' and 'Harassment' are clean words used to describe a wide range of dirty acts. It could be something from obscene language to groping to serious manhandling. While all forms of harassment are unpardonable and cause immense trauma to the victims, not all of society recognises it this way. In most places eve teasing and copping a feel would go unnoticed (except by the victim). Molestation in the public buses is quite common in most places. A bus conductor once announced in the bus that if you wanted to travel by bus, you should learn to leave all shame at home. My friends in school were experts in the use of 'the elbow' and travelled with safety pins in their hands. In a lot of places, I've seen groups of guys who consider it as part of 'fun and games'.

In cities like these, a report that two women were molested, or even raped, at 1:45 am would probably get the remark 'What were they doing out that late? Why weren't they more careful'.

But that is not Mumbai. I'm shocked that this happened here. And I'm stunned by the reaction of the Mumbai Police. But I'm also partly reassured at the attention it has received and that no one has dismissed it saying 'it was only that much'. I'm used to not having to be scared and wary in Mumbai. I don't want to start now.

One thing I'd like to state unequivocally: Unwanted physical attention is not excusable no matter what time of the day or night it is, no matter what kind of clothes the victim is wearing and no matter what state of inebriation or frustration the perpetrator has reached.

So this is Christmas

2008-01-03T23:48:00.000+05:30

I find it disturbing that we are borrowing 'Western' symbols for Christmas. That we equate Christmas with Marzipan, Rum cake and Santa Claus. And we listen to songs of mistletoe and holly. And the sight of cotton on a christmas tree always makes me sad. 'Dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the ones I used to know'???

No, those are not the Christmases I used to know. Mine were so much more....

Christmas through the years bring back fond memories. And they evoke such strong feelings. Family. Togetherness. Sharing.
The run up to Christmas. The sweets we made. When my aunt would shepherd all the family into the living room where we'd set up an assembly line production of kidi, tukdiyo, guliyo, laddoo, and my favorite - nyevori while watching TV.
Planning Christmas lunch. My mom would make a list of all our very close non-Christian friends to call for Christmas lunch. And then finalise the menu, which would invariably be double the food needed.
My sister would dig out all the decorations and draft volunteers to 'deck the halls'. And each year we'd have more decorations, till this year we had two trees, both hidden under stars and bells and angels. Lining the walls with cards collected over the years.
And the main event: The Crib. We'd carefully unearth our clay shepherds and kings. And so much debate would go into the correct placing of the manger scene.
Carollors from the church choir, or any bunch of people, who'd come with a guitar in hand. And sing 'Joy to the world','Silent Night'. And when we were asked for any special requests, we'd go 'Drummer Boy'!

The day before Christmas, when all the sweets were packed neatly and distributed among all the neighbours, family and friends. Anyone travelling at this time would be asked to take a package along.. to family in the Gulf or the US. And all those packages that made their way home, till the packages merged into one big box that everything was dumped into.

Christmas eve - Dressing up and bundling into the vehicle to go to midnight mass at St. Joseph's. It was always chilly. And all the fancy clothes would invariably be wrapped up under sweaters and shawls. But you'd see a smile on every face. That gentle and courteous crowd. The beautiful service. And the calm in the air. O Holy Night....
And the drive back always seemed magical. And my brother would be so happy that he finally got to drive on empty roads in Bangalore.

And Christmas Day, which went mostly in wishing people, and eating, and listening to carols.

And the aftermath... gorging through all the best sweets first, and then when they were done, moving to lesser sweets. Trying to gather the energy to take the decorations down, or waiting till they just fell of their own accord.

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to all Men..

Kaun Mukar Mukar Salta..

2007-12-13T01:18:00.001+05:30

Sal sal, munsha, sal sal
Tun mukar mukar sal

Kaun mukar mukar salta
To mukle paunth darta
Kaun pateens pateens rauta
To raula tains urta

Konkani song that I heard years back. Go ahead it says, or you'll stay where you are. Common sense, isn't it?

Ever feel that you are right where you started. And after all these years, you have made no progress at all? Sometimes I take stock, I look at my friends and wonder - Have I been left behind? Was I sleeping when they were forging ahead?

I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm heading towards my goal, or just walking in circles. I just pray that I am on my way and try to make sure that the journey at least is worth it....

You'll understand...

2007-12-09T18:21:00.000+05:30

One of the biggest compliments I received was when someone sent me a song with the note -'You'll understand'.

And I did understand. I understood what the song was about, why they like it and why they had sent it to me. I understood what it was they were trying to tell me without them needing to explain.

Ever had a friend who you know so well, that words are generally not necessary? You know what she is going to say before she says it. You know just what gift to he will apprecaite, when even he doesn't. When you see something funny, you share a glance and both of you laugh. And when you start a sentence, she starts nodding her head right at the first two words.. coz she was about to say the exact same thing.

Although I love words and language.. something about the 'coding-decoding' of language makes communication lose it's romance.

When ideas just skip the words and jump from one mind to another.. Then you know you have found someone who will 'understand...'

His eye is on the sparrow...

2007-12-03T22:50:00.000+05:30

So many times in my life, I wish there was someone else to take care of it.. to take care of those little troubles, little decisions, that make this life feel like a chore - not like this wondrous adventure.

But when I look back on my life, I realise that without my ever having tried, everything has been taken take care. I have received more than I ever dreamt of - in a loving family, innumerable friends, mind-blowing experiences, in an enviable education and more possessions that I ever dreamed of.

I know I don't thank my God enough. I don't profess my faith enough. And all too often, I forget that it is not me who has borne the burdens in my life. But inspite of all that, I live with the knowledge deep within, that everything will be taken care of. That I worry in vain, it was never my problem anyway. And it is just that peace that is worth more than anything else I will receive in life.

It is never too late to give thanks. And today I'll take just a couple moments out, to say -
Thank You!

Make the world go away....

2007-11-30T00:36:00.000+05:30

The one with the fancy penthouse suite is the one who probably lives in an office cabin.

The Ferrari with the city dweller..

You slog your youth away, and retire when you are too old to enjoy the money you've made.

You give your best times to the shallow, superficial ‘fun’ people. And your worst times to nice and trustworthy people. Because you know they'll take it.

The most important decisions in your life - whom to marry, what job to take, where to spend your life - are dictated by society, employers, teachers.. people you never cared for anyway..

Spend 500 bucks on a pizza. And another 1500 on a gym membership to burn away the pizza. And then never go to the gym. Money well spent.
But giving 2000 bucks to a child that needs it, that is too much...

The company that provides airconditioning and 24 hour support for it's computers. And makes it's employees travel 2 hours a day and sit on uncomfortable chairs.

Isn’t there something wrong with this world?

Mauja Hi Mauja

2007-11-28T13:40:00.001+05:30

I saw DDLJ again. A grown up DDLJ.
This time round, Simran didn’t ask anyone’s permission to ‘live her life’
This time round, the rich kid Raj had not failed his graduation exams, but he had failed other, more important tests in life.
This time round, the local suitor back home was not a pigeon hunting ogre, but a very salt of the earth owner of a fertilizer company.
And this time round, since it did not involve Karan Johar in anyway, the locales were all desi and the lines were not repeated more than once.
And she wore jeans while traveling, not inconvenient skirts and dresses.

I liked Jab We Met. Good music. Good execution. Good chemistry.
And why on earth did those two have to go and break up before a movie like this?

A tangled web

2007-11-26T01:24:00.000+05:30

And we got along so well, for so long...

For you told the truth with a laugh, and I disbelieved it.
And I told my lies with a laugh, so you believed them.

But now the web is untangling. And so many bonds are breaking apart.
And I know I'll always miss the person I thought you were...

Dard-e-Disco

2007-11-23T00:26:00.000+05:30

I was first bowled over by that song. Many people were stunned and disappointed at this. I think I'll just have to live with the knowledge that I have no taste.

Now I just got bowled over by the rest of the movie... it has some surprisingly good parts in it. I especially liked the parts where they take potshots at themselves. Whatever the film industry lacks, it does have a sense of humour... And that makes up for a lot. The parts where Shabana Azmi says 'I'm here to protest the demolition of the slums', the 'Add a Kapoor to your name', or 'Abhishek Bachchan in Dhoom 5'.... Little things like 'In my next movie, I want a ponytail like his, looks very smart'... It is similar to that other excellent movie 'Bollywood Calling', except here they are so specific...

Deepika Padukone surprised by actually seeming to act... after all those appearances in shows where she just smiles and looks dumb. Shreyas Talpade is always amazing in any role he plays...

Some things I did not like: like the repeated use of the word 'fish'. Very sissy. Either say the word, or don't. Don't use a euphemism.
Also, although Shahrukh Khan remains my absolutest favorite actor, I felt he was maybe not the best for a role that requires imitating other celebrities. He is always his own person, and does not remind of anyone other than himself...
I didn't like the lifting of themes from 'Singing in the Rain' either...

But these were little things.. This movie is definitely the greatest, and smartest, tribute ever paid to Indian cinema, as it was and as it is.

Lights

2007-11-09T20:10:00.000+05:30

Mumbai smells of Diwali.
Agarbathis and diyas and sparklers.

The people are dressed up.
The buildings are dressed up (in Christmas decorations for some reason - bells and stars???)

And everyone is smiling.

Happy Diwali.

Freedom is

2007-11-09T15:33:00.001+05:30

sleeping with the alarm switched off!!

Dreams

2007-11-08T01:22:00.000+05:30

I know one person who is following her dream.. It's just taking off and after a lot of false starts and loads of hard work. Am I'm really glad for her.

I know this other someone who really wants to follow his dream. It is still taking shape, and he's not sure how to go about it, and if it will work. And I really hope it all comes together for him, eventually..

I know too many people who have achieved their dream, only to realise that its not what they watned afterall. They've had to reinvent their dreams, or in some cases, live with what they have.

And then there are the rest us... people who don't really have dreams. Who just know that where they are is not where they want to be. And too scared to actually build a dream. And then build the courage to follow it.

2007-11-05T09:55:00.001+05:30

What's with all these Barbara Cartland heroines flooding recent hindi movies? Am I the only one who misses the old heroines who actually did something for a living, and had real lives?

I guess I should just be grateful that we haven't yet got in the Cartland heroes.....

Arbit

2007-10-27T20:23:00.000+05:30

Making money by making people read you
I just read that Scott Adams has taken some of his favorite blog posts and made a book out of them. And he's going to sell it and make money. Smart chap. And this is something I've recommened to some of my friends too (one friend actually. DBS. I really think he could make money off his blog. call it '7 ways to sell a fridge to an eskimo' or something...). I've sometimes thought it would be a good idea to print some of my chat transcripts. Since that seems to be the only time I'm profoundly witty...

Second Hand Books
I love second books. Who knows what stories they'd tell about their lives, if they could talk. Ditto for old currency notes. I love the inscriptions on the first page, esp one I found on an old Georgette Heyer 'Dear Maa, Found a book we may (???) not have!!!' - Bitti 'n Kailash (June '96)'. Being an avid Heyer collector myself, and always on the look out for one of her books that I don't already have, I could immediately empathize.
I just opened another Heyer I bought recently and found an old grocery bill in it. Apparently, in 1998, you could buy 5 kgs of Atta for Rs 80. Hmmm..

The Cosmos is telling you something. Unfortunately, it's in a different language.
Ever felt someone was trying to give you a 'Sign'? Like when you come back from a marathon of long-hour, stress-filled, nothing-going-right, week load of work and the movie on TV is about a depressed office worker who shoots all his colleagues, and the article in the paper is how everyone is 25 going on 60 because of work-related stress. Or just when you are fuming at condescending treatment from one of your guy friends, and then you have to attend a session on 'gender at the workplace' at work and then you watch 'Lajja' on TV....

I love maggie noodles
Ever got the feeling that you absolutely must have a coupla plates of maggie noodles? They are just so perfect...

Those graces...

2007-10-11T06:04:00.000+05:30

They say women have a lot of the 'social graces'. Well, I have none! I don't know the concept of small talk. I only open my mouth to put my foot in it. I don't know how to be a good hostess; if you ask for coffee, I'll probably point you in the direction of the kitchen. And making new friends? I'm scared of people I don't know. My conversations to strangers are restricted to 'ah, umm, err, eh, ah.....'

There must be a reason to this - a legacy of my frightful adolosence, of which I can only remember being the ugliest girl in the class, which didn't matter so much, since half of it ignored me anyway. Or maybe it was something further back in my childhood, when I didn't know the language the kids on my street spoke in so was reduced to speaking in 'ah, umm, err, eh, ah....' accompanied by frantic hand signals... (I think this is the reason why Indians in general don't do small talk like 'good morning' and 'thank you very much'. But that's stuff for another post). Or maybe it is a psychosomatic manifestation of something that happened before I was born..

Well whatever the reason is, I would like to ask the women out there who do have these graces, to please pass on some tips...

NY

2007-10-09T06:04:00.000+05:30

To those that I haven't complained to already, I'm in NY. And since it's the last of the 3 weeks I get to spend here, I finally mustered up the energy to get a little touristy. I've been so homesick the last 2 weeks that I figured if I just don't go out and see the city or anything, mebbe I can pretend this episode never happened :P Got a couple of hours free today, so went to see the Apple showroom. Over the weekend, I went to the mall here in Newport. And yesterday I went for walk around the park in front of the hotel. Yes, that's it. The sum of my touristy experiences :) Anyway, a summary of the last 2 weeks:

What impressed me: Kohl's
So I cave and go shopping like 75% of my acquiantance has been telling me to do. I go to Kohl's in Newport mall and actually find some nice clothes. It's only a couple of hours after I get back home that I realise I overpaid $30 on the bill. I pull out the receipt and it turns out they billed me for something I didn't take. So the next day, I'm back at Kohl's, at the customer service center, hoping against hope that they'll believe me, since there's no way I can prove it. The lady smiles at me and asks me to hold on a coupla minutes. Then she calls the security desk, gives them the time and counter on the receipt. They pull up the video of the check out and report back saying that I didn't buy that item. In a total of 20 minutes, I have my money back, no hassles, no arguments.....

What did not impress me: Coffee!!
For a nation that's supposed to run on coffee, they sure know how to mess it up! I drank the coffee here twice. And that was 2 times too many! For starters the machine looked more complicated than those options and derivatives problems we needed to solve. Had a whole lot of sachets on the side: French Vanilla, Hazelnut, Cuban Roast, Whatchamacallit... And apparently u were supposed to put u're choice in. So I do. And with names like that, I expect something awfully good.... And the 'beverage' that comes out smells just as heavenly as it sounds. And then you drink it...... and go 'gaaaahhhh, what was that?' Eww! How could you mess it up that bad?

What surprised me: The cars
I was really looking forward to swanky cars, convertibles, coupes, small cars, sports cars, Hummers, Jeeps, and the whole shebang. And what do I get? Hondas and Toyotas! Surprise, surprise! Not in NY so much, but in the suburbs, sensible cars reign supreme. Of course in NY, the parking may cost as much or more than the EMI.... So you get the boring, expensive IBanker cars.. sigh!

Learnings: I can get lost anywhere!
Most places here are remarkably well organised. Streets are all numbered, and in the right order too... But I've still managed to get lost. Yesterday I walked for half an hour looking for the church. Finally gave up, since it was a bright sunny day, and I was dressed for snow and hale. I can get lost within a subway station which has directions all over the place. I can walk out of a subway station, walk all around the block looking for my office, and then when I get back to where I started, realise that the subway exit was part of my office building!! I just had to turn around....