Fictitioustruth

Hello Daddy

2009-07-14T20:16:00.002+05:30

How you grow old and learn about being a parent.

How you grow old and learn the pangs of distance.

How you grow old and learn something new from old memories.

When I used to study in Pune, there was no phone in my hostel (and this is before the advent of the mobile era, yes kids, there was a time like this and yes yes, i am that old) I used to call up home once a week. And it was really expensive, meaning I would try to keep the call as short as possible and would focus on absolute necessary and mandatory (read, send me more money). The conversation was dictated by speed of the bill meter, it would start with a nice jog, would catch some speed and by the second minute i would be speaking faster than i could think, with words tumbling over each other. By end of second minute I would be looking desperately at the meter running faster than Carl Lewis, and would quickly say bye.

At this point Dad would say bye and then add ekkkk ghal das Raman, followed with a long pause. I would be going frenetic, Daddy, ke? pucho?

And he would start again... Raman...... uh, hmmmmmmmm.... pause....

I: Daddy what?

Dad: "Kuch khas nahin..........

I: Yes

Dad: Tere padhayi theek chal rahi hai?

I: hanji, hanji, ok bye

Dad: Ok bye, ek minute

I: Hanji

Dad: Acha (pause)

I: Daddy Daddy,

Dad: Acha, paise tah hor nahin chahede

I: Nahin Daddy, ok bye

Dad: Okkkkkk .... pause..... bye

I: Pere pona

Dad: khush raho

You know there was a time, I used to find this conversation really funny and I would tell everyone this story with great mirth and humor.

Today I don't find it funny.

Today I realize the value of that conversation.

Today I know, the desire to hear the voice of your child and the pain of distance.

I call up home everyday to talk to Avni even when I meet her in the evening. And I used to go home only twice a year.

I still cherish those conversations but now I understand them better.

Moved to new address

2009-04-09T11:35:00.001+05:30

blog has moved to

www.truefictitioustruth.wordpress.com

lets meet there.

Jab haat marna bada marna...

2009-01-20T11:28:00.006+05:30

He was forced in the slums.
Not born there.
A victim of circumstances.
He needed to learn how to survive.
He needed to learn the ways.
He remembered the day when the cops came and took Bunty away.
He read the next day he was killed in an encounter.
So he asked his new best friend Shiva, why did they encounter Bunty.
He was just a pickpocket.
Shiva shook his head.
Put his arm around him
and educated him on the ways of life;
boss police can encounter only people like Bunty.
Choota khiladi.
They don't have the guts to touch the big players.
So boss zindagi mein kabhi bhi choota haat nahin marna.
Risk lena to bada lena.
He was sure slums was not his destiny.
He had to move up.
Get out of here soon.
Education was his only hope.
He was one of the better students.
Then they met.
She was different.
She saw his tomorrow.
Not his today.
She reminded him of his dreams.
She was life beyond.
She was the future.
She was hope.
Then dreams are such.
They take you away from the harsh reality.
One day the cops came.
He was found dead.
Shiva read the paper.
Shook his head.
Jab bhi kaam karna bada karna, chotta nahin.

Slumdog, Jodi and gajini...some thoughts

2009-01-19T12:56:00.009+05:30

This post is about movies but not just about the movies. Let's start first with Slumdog Millionaire (and if you have seen the movie, I recommend read the book too, both are similar yet very different) and the associated comments made by the legend Mr. Amitabh Bachchan. Mr Bachchan's contention, which he notes on his blog, is that the west focuses only on the underbelly of India and the poverty is not just an Indian phenomenon but global malaise, yet that is the only impression it seems the west propogates and imbibes, while filtering out every other reality about India. And he in turn feels affronted by this narrow approach of the west and he feels hurt that west chooses to celebrate this parochial view of theirs about India everytime.

I am sure what what he says with his vast global experience must be true at some level (and is true) but I think the issue is not limited just to what has been said by him and felt by others with membership to this niche achievers segment. The angst is deeper, the angst is personal and it no longer is limited to just him but to everyone in the affluent class, the class which has delivered, the class hunger for recognition and respect, the class that now claims its legitimate time under the sun. This acknowledgment and harping and glorifying of the poor by the west makes them feel ignored, shamed, disrespected and unacknowledged. These intelligent people despite their sheltered life and protected existence, would not be so blind and immune to the Indian reality. They would be well aware that whatever has been captured by Danny Boyle in the movie exists and things maybe worse than depicted. Can they challenge the fact that our police is corrupt and the poor have no rights or laws to protect them or that slums exist or that people defecate in public or that the basic lack of amenities or anything else shown in the movie as a reality (ignore the fable part, that is fiction and beyond contention and I am sure they are very comfortable with that part). Karan Johar or his ilk can create a facade of the rich, helicopter riding, designer wearing Indian but still the reality exists. I am also very sure that Mr. Bachchan is not so narrow minded to object to the fact that a westener has made that movie; when we did not stake any claim to the movie made on the most famous Indian (Gandhi not AB) by a westener than why would or should we cry wolf for this movie. My hypothesis is that Mr. Bachchan feels when the west laps this reality, it becomes the only reality about Indian and when this becomes a singular image about India he in turn becomes part of this image, he gets painted along with the slumdog and they now stand shoulder to shoulder, which in his mind is not true hence the outrage: I AM NOT A SLUMDOG. So when he has raised the issue, it was not due to any moral outrage, it was personal,very personal.

The second movie is Aditya Chopra's "Rab ne bana de jodi", a universally ridiculed movie and rightly so people believe. Let me start this by saying, I am not trying to be different and I do not think it is a great movie but nevertheless it is a movie that poses lots of interesting questions and answers them equally interestingly. I am not sure these meanings were interjected consciously by the creator or are there accidentally but these are there. I will start with the most debated and derided concept in the movie. When Raj and Sahni are the same people, how does it matter who gets he girl, they/he is afterall the same . Why indeed? But then it does matter and it matters because it challenges the very existence of Sahni. It makes his previous 30years and the values in which he has believed in and lived by redundant. It makes an identity called Sahni meaningless. His every previous action, his every thought, his every belief empty and pointless. It was as if face he saw in the mirror ebery morning will now be scorned at and mocked not just by the world, but by Raj. So it does matter to him. So what started as a joke became for him a quest and answer to his own very existence.

The second aspect he stands for is what every second Indian believes is the path to glory and a true way of life. Good people always win in the end; a reality propogated by Hindi movies for the last 60 years and believed by the people who struggle everyday for mere existence, that this is the path which will eventually give rewards and satisfaction. It has become a defacto path of the God. And this aspect has been captured in the movie that the movies have defined and constructed Sahni's beliefs and value system. Those movies have been the foundation of his reality and in turn our reality of every ordinary Indian. So Sahni and Raj are not mere characters they are concepts, concepts of the old India and the new India. And the movie says in the end, yes old India has to embrace the new India but new India also cannot eschew old India.

Last aspect is my comment on the loud behaviour of Raj. You know SRK could have easily played Raj of DDLJ, charismatic, charming (he has done that part so well for so long) but then director chose to interpret the role in this manner and SRK showed the courage to play this obnoxious lout. But do not look and seek SRK, remember the character, it is Sahni who is role playing, and his concept of cool comes from movies (yes the SRK movies DDLJ case in point), but it is an uncharacterstic behaviour for Sahni, something that does not come naturally to him. This behaviour is so alien to him that he should fail, and he did fail. Sahni as Raj is an absolute failure, and that is exactly what happened in the movie. So what's the crib. It is a victory of the director and not his failure, what is winsome about Raj are his values and those values are of Sahni. So only time Raj is lovable is when he is Sahni (in his thoughts).

Gajini - First comment. Do not watch this movie. I am not saying because it is a bad movie. My issue is different. The previous makers of the movie, in Tamil, malyalam and now in Hindia hve always harped on the fact that this movie is not a remake of Memento. Afterall what are the similarities, dead wife/GF, lost memory, 15 minute attention/memory span, revenge, polaroids, tatoos, that's it. Everything else is different, different story,different treatment, everything. Let's not even argue the fact that the value is of the idea everything else is just a veneer, you can dress it up in any form, the look changes and the idea does not. a rose is a rose is a rose. Again I do not have any issue with the South Indian original versions of the movie (i profess ignorance there), my issue is only with the Hindi version. And the issue is due to Aamir Khan, the intelligent actor. The actor who stands up for the causes, originality. He is so honest that he bought the remake rights from the makers of the Tamil version before making the Hindi version. SUCH HYPOCRISY, such dishonesty. Can a man stoop any lower? And he has the audacity of have that mocking smile on his face when he says on national channel, see the movie then tell me if it has any resemblance to Memento and continues to say poker faced, it has none. You MOTHERFUCKER IT IS A RIP-OFF. And now wipe that fucking smile from your face.

Happy New Year

2009-01-06T14:52:00.003+05:30

Wishing everyone a happy New Year. My blog resolution is to write atleast one post a week. Though the reason this year is the same as the previous years, writing is for self-gratification and to learn create a framework to express thoughts in a structured and a cohesive manner. Inability to do so in general is a bane.

Now the question is should I leave the post here and call it the first post for the first week or write something better (else) and put pressure on self to think something new for the next week.

Let me ask you something, which someone asked me sometime back, do we have any purpose as individuals or is everything collective?

My perspective on the same goes like this; the answer to the question depends on how you define yourself. Now if I define myself as an individual and see myself in isolation, then every purpose is individual and the greatest goal is nature/God. Every action that the individual would do would be to achieve the ultimate spiritual glory or self actualization. The way we define the world currently would be meaningless and the definition of progress wouldnot be expressed in terms of scientific or their material sub-structures but differently.

On the other hand if you see yourself as a subset of the collective then every action would be not directed inwards but outwards. The collective benefit would dictate the individual actions and not benefits accuring to the self. The definition of the collective also critical on what is seen as collective also dictates our actions and responsibilities. But remember what constitutes the collective is dictated by self and not any external influences or forces.

If one has to give an analogy to differentiate the two aspects. I clean my house, and throw the garbage outside the house, is an action of an individual. Against that if I see myself part of the community or neighbourhood, I would throw it outside that area so as not to be of any inconvenience to the neighbors. If we see ourselves not as 7th Main but as Indiranagar the responsibility becomes, it can expand to Bangalore to Karnataka to South India to India to Asia to the World. If I start with world as my collective, we would have a clean world. Though the fact remains our collective is not even the neighbourhood. But in plain theory this is how the collective works.

But I have not seen any example which proves this theory despite the fact we talk in collective and are governed as collective. This is due to the fact we see ourselves as individuals and others as collective. They need to behave like this or that so that I am comfortable.

Just one clarity here, individual does not mean feeding on others. Since I am concerned only about myself, I can murder someone or something similar for my benefit, I am above or not concerned about the law logic. It simply means my needs and motivations are internal and the manifestations different from that of the group.

I wish we can get our definitions right and live in peace for ever.

Next week: Who is more important, a soldier on whom the movie is made or the actor who plays it? Or, should actors (not artists, just actors) have any importance in the society, queestion with particular reference to Shah Rukh Khan?

2008-12-30T10:39:00.002+05:30

Tag stolen from One more why blog but with direct permission.

Answer as you want, even if you are here by mistake and for the first time. Please Please, i beg, someone answer, even if you have to say only mean things, ................

1. Who are you?

2. Are we friends?

3. Something I have and you want?

4. Give me a nick name and explain why you picked it?

5. Describe me in one word?

6. What was your first impression of me?

7. Do you still think that way about me now?

8. What reminds you of me?

9. If you could ever give me one thing, what would it be?

10. How well do you know me?

11. How do you see me in future?

12. Ever wanted to tell me anything, but couldn't?

The night when moon went missing

2008-12-15T13:16:00.006+05:30

My daughter and Iwere out for a walk last night, sky was clear but for few clouds here and there. We were generally having a good time and appreciating the beautiful evening, looking at the stars when I realized that there was no moon to be seen.

So I asked her "I can't see the moon, can you find it?"

She looked around and could not spot it either and said "No"

I: "Do you know where is it?
She: "It is hiding"

I: "Why is it hiding?'
She: "It is hiding from the hyenas" (Note: her favourite movie these days is The Lion King)

I: "Why?'
She: "Because hyenas will gobble him up"

I: "How?"
She: "They will jump and gobble it"

I: "But hyenas cannot jump so high, how will they reach the moon? I think moon should not be scared."
She: "They will climb on the clouds and then gobble him"

I: "But how would they climb the clouds they are also very high"
She: "I don't know, you tell me"

So we finally thought for sometime and came with the solution.

Hyenas will wait until it rains, then they would use the rain as a rope and climb up on the clouds, from there they will jump and gobble up the moon.

And finally after discovering that moon had a reason to be scared, we happily ambled back home.

bolo hanuman ke jai...

2008-12-02T11:45:00.004+05:30

Design

2008-11-24T14:46:00.002+05:30

I had a privilege of meeting (in a group obviously,where I was merely a presence) and hearing a billionaire last month (not bragging just establishing the credentials of the gentleman). We (the group) were discussing various things, when the discussion veered towards design and I quote what he said...

"The hardest thing to achieve in a design is simplicity. Simplicity takes effort and much more detailed thinking than a complex design. But simplicity sometimes is also harder to appreciate than a complex design. But the effort of the creator should always be to achieve simplicity. But there is another dynamic in a design, specially for public buildings, which is local sensibility. In such a case you cannot ignore the local sensibility and sense of design even if means sacrificing simplicity. India is a great example, in India people appreciate monuments, structure, for them design is an art form and sensibility is guided by the structures they have been exposed to; intricately carved temples, art forms etc. It would be difficult for the masses in India to enjoy anything that is simple. People might see simple as boring"

Just FYI, gentleman is 36 years old.

words, idea and a link

2008-11-24T14:42:00.004+05:30

Last weekend went out drinking (again) with friends, two of us were generally getting bored so reached the venue much earlier than planned. So rather than just hanging around and chatting about nothing we decided to play story-telling game. It’s an old game, many of you would have played at some point of time, but for you who don’t know, the rules are like this, one gives the other person three random words and the other person is supposed to construct a story or situation around it. The condition is that the story/situation must be complete and told in maximum of one or two sentences.

I enjoyed it a lot, so here are the situations and the stories. You are free to write your own versions.

Situation 1: One life, one death and a divorced couple on a boat
Story: A recently divorced couple meet again at the spot where there son had drowned and the wife tells the husband that she is pregnant.

Situation 2: Two people on different tables in a restaurant, one with the mobile wants the other out of the place
Story: Man with the phone makes a call that lasts for 3 minutes, gets up from the seat, puts the phone surreptitiously on other guys table and walks out. After some time cops come and arrest the other guy.

Situation 3: Gun, shoelaces and a man
Story: Man wants to die so that wife gets the insurance money. Suicide will get him nothing. Takes the gun, puts the shoelace on the trigger and other end to the door. Sits in front of the gun and waits for someone to open the door.

Situation 4: Bed, overturned quilt and an open door
Story: You see a bed, overturned quilt, open door and you hear the voice of a little girl from the next room “Mom I had that nightmare again”.

Situation 5: Woman at a bar, mobile and a cherry
Story: Woman at the bar, keys in a number on the mobile, places the phone on the bar, puts a cheery on top and walks out.

There were some more situations which I cannot remember but we were surprised to find friends in so soon, after two hours.

Thank you - A true story

2008-11-21T10:02:00.006+05:30

I must be around around 7 or 8 years old when this incident happened. To whosoever i have told this incident/story never believes it is true. As amazing as it may sound, it actually happened, I witnessed it. I have tried not to embellish the story but tell in a manner as i experienced it as a child and the way the memeory still holds it.

One day my brother and I were playing in the garden, when we saw this parrot stuck in the bushes. We tried to help him come out by pushing the branches here and there but somehow he was unable to come out and was very scared. Finally my brother reached inside, gently held the parrot and helped him out. Then we put the bird down thinking he would now fly off. But the bird just sat there looking at us. We tried to cajole him to fly but he just plain refused. So we finally decided we cannot just leave the bird there, we will bring him home to stay with us.

There were two issues one we did not want to keep the bird in the cage (and we hoped he might want/remember to fly at some point of time), secondly we had a dog at home. We were scared that he might harm the bird (with a dog named hiti, short for Hitler, it was a fair assumption). So we marked out the territory for the parrot and the dog so that there were minimal chances for their interactions. When the parrot was in the house, the dog stayed out and the other way round.

So the parrot happily adjusted to the new environ hopping from room to room, eating the food which we offered, and making our lives delightful in the process. He would sleep in our room, was generally quite, we tried to make him speak as we had seen in the movies, never succeeding. Everyone was happy,arrangement was final, we assumed he would be with us forever.

As is with every story, it was not to be. One day we were sitting in the garden, when my father picked up the a parrot and put him on his forearm and said this is how Maharajah Ranjit Singh used to put his hawk. Parrot stayed there for a second and then suddenly he just flew away. We looked at him in his flight, completely taken by surprise. We thought this was the end of the friendship. He was a joy till he stayed with us, sad he had flown away but then we always wanted him to fly, so it was mixed feeling of joy and saddness. I remember crying and clapping at the same time.

This logically should have been the end of the story but it was not to be. Three days had passed, when my sister screamed asking all of us to come out quickly. My father, mother, brother and I ran outside and we saw these hundreds of parrots flying on top of our house and from those this one parrot came down and sat in middle of us. We knew this was our parrot. He stayed with us for ten or fifteen minutes, met us all. We patted him, played with him while none of the other birds came down, they kept circling on top. After which he flew away after saying, I assume, a thank you and the final goodbye. This time all of us just stood there smiling at each other.

He never came back again but has always stayed with us as a shared memory of the family.

Now you know why people never believe it but i hope you would because it is true.

M(a)X-doms

2008-10-29T14:19:00.005+05:30

I had the honor and the privilege of working with MX. MX, a born leader, prince among men, a teacher, an institution, who in his inimitable demeanor; shared the wisdom beyond comprehension. To this day I grapple with the profundity of his genius.

I miss MX.

There are many that I can share with you, the little nuggets of wisdom that MX would dispense more easily than we breathe, but there are two which particularly stand out.

M(a)X-dom 1: Never let technology get you down.

And man did he stand up against the technology. He was the rock of Gibraltar, unflinching, steadfast in his abhorrence towards technology. E-mails, mobiles, IMs, were meaningless for him, the bane of human emotions and in his counter-offensive against technology he never let a tree stand in his way. He and his printouts – like brothers in arms. And he rubbed technology’s face in the mud, humiliated it to the core, wounded its soul by asking for three sets for everything –one for him, one for me and the third for just in case.

And in case you have made a any itsy bitsy error, no offense taken, he would calmly ask to simply cut some more trees.

And such meetings were never just about work, they went beyond business and delved in the realms of art. MX – you connoisseur of fine art – so subtle was his understanding that a neophyte, the philistine would never get the nuances at one glance. Every job needed to color coded, not just any green, that green or that red or that blue, never this always that.
But did the patient man ever take offense. No, never. He was almost a saint.

Got it wrong.

No problem, here’s the MX Axe, go chop.

Wrong again.

Chop chop and chop chop and……

Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my printouts to me.

M(a)X-dom 2: Nothing can stop me from meeting you, you and you.

MX was a great believer that social decline of our values, culture was due to lack of human interactions. He tried to stymie this degeneration by creating opportunities for interaction where logically none existed. But then such limitations were nothing in front of MX’s will and genius.

Let me give a simple specimen of his effort. I used to sit about three meters from him but whenever he had to ask me anything - inane to absurd to abstract – he would never ever call me, he always desired my physical presence in his room.

But the process was always open for innovation so that more can come in the fold of his benevolence.

He would call his secy and ask her to come to his room and then ask her to ask me to meet him, then the secy who had crossed my desk on the way to his room, would walk back to my desk and ask me to meet him and then lead me to his room and then inform him that what he had asked has been achieved and I am present in his room as he can see himself, then walk out and then MX would ask what he had to ask.

Do you see the brilliance of his maneuvers?

Where any ordinary person would have sufficed with a simple phone call, MX created four unique human face to face interactions – one MX with his secy, second secy and I, three, MX, secy and Iand four, MX and I.

In the deep jungles of Africa, legends say that MX is so busy in spreading happiness that he eats his breakfast at lunch time, lunch at dinner time and dinner only next day at breakfast time.

I wish everyone either has the privilege of working with him once in his/her lifetime or get a
boss who is at least equal to the shadow of MX.

Long live the master.

Reasonless post - Just trying to copy a writing style

2008-10-23T13:28:00.004+05:30

Hello sir, good morning, yes you sir I am taking to you , don’t look here and there, why the confused look, now don’t panic, no I am not trying to sell you credit card or insurance. No not even toilet paper. No I am not from any NGO or religious institution. What did you say, political party? I will not even answer that.

But you got one thing right. I am here to sell something. I am trying to sell you a concept; a concept that, hopefully, would break a myth.

No sir, you look a decent person, ordinary to the core, a good representative of the masses, if I see you tomorrow somewhere else I am sure I will not even recognize forget remember you, chances are I will probably mistake anyone else for you. That is the uniqueness of us common people, that there is nothing unique about us, we are one huge homogeneous mass of ordinariness – all are one and one is all.

Now see you made me veer away from the topic. Before I sell my product, I mean the concept, again you have the same look on your, no you will not have to pay anything but it might cost you a lot, can I ask you couple of questions.

Are you an honest person? Yes, hmmm…

Are you a law abiding citizen? Yes

Are you ethical? Yes

Do you have all the right principles, values, you know what I mean, the right thing stuff? Yes, ok
And I am sure you do not believe in violence, cheating, crime, amoral behavior etc etc. The way you are vigorously lolling your neck, as an Indian I know you mean yes, westerner would have been mightily confused.

Good, good, you are doing really well so far, actually exactly what I expected, I could have saved some time by not asking these questions, then I have all the time in the world and sir, don’t fidget I know you are in no hurry either.

Now why are you all that you said? Do you want to be that or are you expected to be that or has someone told you to be like that or since everyone like us is like that you are like that?
And I am sure you are all the above because you want to be like that.

Whatever the reason, it really doesn’t matter except that you are like that and would have stayed like that had I not walked in your house and disturbed your afternoon siesta. Ah I see you don’t like that.

Now let me tell you a secret, secret I heard from the mouth of the one who knows the real thing, this whole thing is a lie. A grand lie. A myth. An illusion. An alternate reality.
It is like that movie, Matrix, have you seen it. I did not particularly like Part 2 & 3 but the first one, had what do you say, depth.

This honesty, ethics, principles have been created just for the benefit of the few. It is like one those Ludlum “world is in danger” stories, except here it is real.

Now don’t give me that look, and no you cannot take a relief break. I know you think I am some lunatic and you right now want to run inside, lock the door and call the cops.

No sir, you have to sit here and listen to me. Look around yourself, politicians, industrialists, businessmen, criminals, crooks, dons, and again do you see any commonality. Yes they are rich, they live a luxurious life, they wear the best clothes, sleep with the epitome of human beauty, dine at the best places, rule us, scare us, guide us, decide for us. Overall are probably astronomically better off than us.

But look again, there is something else, look closely and you will find a mirror image of yourself. Now I see a frown on your head and you are concentrating, those little cells running here and there, connecting, forming, chemicals frothing, churning more neurons, old memories, logic, emotions going haywire, words coming and stopping on the tongue, yes sir, they are what you are not, they are dishonest, unethical, unprincipled, law breaking bunch of goons.

All this everyone knows, I assume you also now, and you know what you are because of them. The crooks, the goons, these goondas ensure that we tread the path which we think is the right path. Nah sir, it is not the right path it is a blind alley without an end.

Let me bring to your notice another aspect of their personality, have you seen how brutally system deals with the petty crime and how easily these gang lords escape the law. Now if you and I, no sir, I am not staying you do it, I am saying assume, you do a big heist, crime that makes you either rich or powerful I say you will go free without a hitch because you would not be you but them.

Now the question is why they want us to be us and not them.

Sir economics comes very handy here or you can look at jungle it is the same thing.

In the jungle everyone cannot be a tiger, there has to be deer too. More deer means tiger has more food. As in jungle as in economics our resources are limited now if everyone desires them and wants them the competition is so much higher. Assume everyone is a tiger, which we all are; after all human desires are the same, but then someone wants us to be deer and has transmuted us into deer. Only when there are more deer there is more food. Now when you revert back to the tiger, jungle rule applies again, feline family does not feed on each other. They just do not enter your territory, they might kill you but will never feed on you.

Now sir, it is not a question of right or wrong, you can choose to be a tiger or deer but you always have a third choice, to be an elephant, live life by your rules, and not by the tenet of someone else. You know deer and elephants both have almost the same needs the difference is they are not anyone else food. Unfortunately today in the human society we do not have elephants today we either eat or get eaten.

I can see a question trembling on your lips, what you should do. There sir I do not have an answer. My role ended here itself; I wanted you to know that you are what you are not by your individual choice but by the will of someone else. Your destiny is decided by greed, someone else pulls the strings of your life.

The question I leave you with is this; how can we be a society of elephants?

Sir, you can enjoy your sleep whatever time is left, no you would rather stay up, your choice sir, though must say it makes me happy. Now you are surely kidding. I can tell you some more secrets but then someone is waiting for me. Next time, I promise I will see you again shortly and in the meanwhile if you can keep your answer ready.

Foot Note: The last 2 books I read were “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” and “The White Tiger”.

Random thought

2008-10-14T14:59:00.001+05:30

Remember when you read or hear a great line, in it is hidden not just a great thought/idea but also a beautiful conversation.

New mind or old hand

2008-10-14T14:40:00.002+05:30

It is amazing the kind of delusions that corporate world believes in and the shit they dispense to a new employee.

I have changed quite a number of jobs and have heard it everywhere i have gone. But the saddest part is despite repeated disappointments i still believed them every time.

Oh yes, give it to me baby, the orgasmic words - "you will enthuse the team with fresh thinking", "fresh mind will give us new insights" - or some similar bull shit.

You hear these magic words and you have this surge of enthusiasm, maybe a suggestion or two pour out from your mouth under a misguided presumption that the utterer actually meant what he said. But even before you can finish your earth shattering, brand shaping and market shaking insight, the boss man says, hold on, hold on, I'm sure you have a wonderful thought which has lots of potential, why don't you first see how we do things.

Then the grind starts, this is the brand architecture, this is the brand soul and that is the essence, this is how we slice mangoes and that is how we peel oranges and this has to be there and that is a no-no. You cannot say this, this is not how the brand speaks and here is our language and there is brand palette. Guard books, scrap books, design books, brand manuals, zillion years research data, data mining, data processing and the works land in your lap.

Lo and behold, before you can blink, mind rebels and takes the next train home and there we have a old model of robot, ready to follow every command and tread the path where grass will never grow again.

So next time you hear those golden words kindly let these words echo in your old mind and raise your fresh hands to slap the fucking old face that says it.

The first story

2008-09-23T11:33:00.005+05:30

My daughter is 2 1/2 years old. She just loves to hear stories and also thinks she can tell them too. Her stories are largely anything goes disjointed sentences but I just love listening to them. Yesterday, and i assume inadvertently, she constructed a story which made sense to an adult mind.

So here it goes, enjoy the first story by her, narrated as heard...

She: Dada, I will tell you a story
I: Ok, tell

She: One day, there was a jungle
I: Then...

She: Jumbo elephant came from the jungle
I: Then what happened

She: He saw a little girl crying
I: Then what happened

She: Jumbo came and, and piched her up in his trunk and, aaaaaaaaaaa, and put her on his back
I: Did she stop crying?

She: No she cried again
I: Why did she cry now?

She: Little girl cried for her mama
I: Then what happened

She: Mama came and took the little girl
I: Then what happened

She: Then jumbo cried
I: Then what happened

She: Story over

Impressions from ThighLand and BangCock

2008-09-02T17:32:00.002+05:30

Post written in a hurry so that I do not lose the thread of thought. Would come back to it sometime later and try to craft it better.

Just back from a short visit to the Bangkok. The basic impressions I assume have been well captured in the post title.

But that is not the reason for this post though that would make a spicier post to write.

Here we go with the raison-de-etre of the post, albeit a short post.

Women dominate Bangkok. They are everywhere. They just control every sphere of that city, any and every kind of business. Men seem to play a secondary role and are hardly seen. Now and when you do see men they confuse you the hell out of you. They look, walk, talk and exhibit more female traits then men.

My theory (and I am sure there would be better ones) is because as a country they probably suffer from low self esteem. And this low esteem probably is a result of thriving sex tourism that exists in that country. History as witness, there have been more battles fought for the honor of the women than anything and even wars fought otherwise the victors first action was to ravage the women and humiliate the opponents by this public act of dishonor. And here is a country where people from all across the world come and pillage, despoil their women and there is no recourse for the men but to accept it. The suppression of the natural male traits leads to them cloaking themselves and changing more into like women. Seems like a good and probably the only recourse for the men to hide their shame. Be part of the shame than an audience.

Even this is not the reason for this post.

The point is that this behavior of men really stands and looks really odd. Rather weird. And at some level you feel embarrassed. But if you step back you find the world over women are doing the same thing. They are turning into men, for reasons which are valid enough, but then in their new avatar they are also as far away from their true self as the men in Thailand. And in turn weird.

The question that I ask is, should women lose themselves and evolve into something that’s not them just to survive? Is being men the only way for them?

Such men in Thailand are weak, spineless sissies.

But are you also the same?

The cloak of darkness

2008-07-31T16:36:00.002+05:30

What is the purpose of night club? Why do we go there? What joy do we seek? Or what sorrow do we intend to forget? Who do we want to meet? Who is a victim of our disdain? What is the trip and what is the high? What makes us seek and lose ourselves amongst the pulsating beats, the sweaty bodies and thumping hearts and sloshed minds?

Howsoever hard I try to rationalize and reason it out as good times and pleasure trip with friends it somehow doesn’t get a grip in my mind, including the variations of the same theme, “I love to dance, great place to loosen up, and so and so forth”. Even the assumption that these places are watering holes for the stressed out metro life, seems a trifle bit watered down logic.

If I were to propose our intrinsic desire for promiscuity takes us to such places, how would you react?

Let’s start by breaking the whole experience into some basic elements – drinking (an act of lowering the inhibitions), close proximity of strangers (physical immediacy), a sense of adventurism (fueled by heightened senses) and these in turn bring forth our natural physical desires to the forefront. Yes, alcohol does lead some interesting discussions, fun, bonding but situation-location axis is located in very different physical dimension. And when this does happen in this setting it cocoons us in a silo which is independent of the physical reality of the night club.

My query is when the mind is conscious of the place, vibes and the energy in which the milieu is enveloping us and our willingness to embrace and resonate with the vibes, revel in the weakness of the flesh. When we are conscious of our lust and the lust of others around us, spilling over, so close, so real that it can be touched, smelt, felt on the skin. We perform for the world around, a mating season, peacocks with their wares in display and baboons with their bums raised.

But surprisingly in India this rarely translates into a reality it demands. Despite our realization, need and desire we do not succumb, we do not give in. We ignore the world we have transcended into and clutch to the realities we want to let go.

What holds us back? What stops us?

Fear?

Values?

What is it?

If we don’t plan to transcend our mental barrier why make the effort? Why pretend?

Who do we fool? None but ourselves.

Where we can quench our desire, we only fuel our lust.

I suggest either give in or give up.

Either ways shed the cloak of darkness and lies.

Why are most Indian men such perverted pigs???

2008-07-31T13:41:00.004+05:30

Post open for discussion on sushi bar.

There was a girl who once went on a quest, from the dregs of history an answer she wanted to wrest, why are most Indian men such perverted pigs?

She moped over the question, in the day and the night, awake and sleeping, in mind and dreams, till on her forehead she had a frown. Cobwebs refused to clear, mop went calling, floor got a dusty crown.

Indeed why?

One day she has a vision and in a flash of inspiration, she found the key, why sit alone and whine when the answer could be found straight from the swine.

Without any rebate the question was up for debate. The question was up on the blog to be answered or to be flogged.

Sitting quite a pig thought why not I take a dig.

As a reaction, venom he wanted to spew and answer honestly you Indian bitches make us so. But he let the mind relax and answer that would be right for the sensitive ears of the weaker sex.

He picked the question and chewed on it a little, then he chewed a little more, till the jaws ached and the mind raked.

The pig was wise, the young lady he wanted to apprise but before he imparted the ancient wisdom and offer a peek in his kingdom, he wanted to be sure, as advised by astute men and prudent (assume the root is same as prudish) women, he understood the question’s core.

The question is full of assumptions which to the mind seem like presumptions, but the lady though callow, was smart not to make her choice of words shallow. She said most and not all, she wanted to be incisive without being divisive but it still is a tall claim and she should be game to get her share of shame.

Only Indian men she decided to slander, letting go scot free in general the gender, Indian within the present geographical, political confine, past, future, she allowed to shine. Whites we assume merrily can claim that they do not share any such blame. Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Nepali bhai can also rejoice and keep their head high.

The question we (or most of us) are pigs is never up for contest, just sigh and tell her why. Indian men are indeed perverted pigs is a foregone conclusion and have no choice, and a symptomatic understanding is required and hopefully corrective medical and psychological treatment reasoned.

But the pigs are stuck with a complex question and have not yet gasped the complete meaning; the question can still take many leaning.

From the muck the pig ambled and with the dictionary gambled. Lexicon offered some answers which made the question even denser. Here below you can find some things he read and try to decipher the right thread. Pig wanted to avoid the wrong path and not become a victim of a woman’s wrath.

Three meaning did he list, you can read too to get the gist-

1. Deviating from what is considered right and correct.

2. Marked by misinterpretation or distortion

3. Of, relating to or practicing sexual perversion or showing or appealing to bizarre or deviant tastes.

On one thing he was pretty sure option 3 was not his chore, a path he need not toil, even thinking like for almost all frigid Indian women in this light would make them recoil. This was a deduction without any disparage, and in this fight, he did not intend, female in particular, in any manner slight.

But the query never would swing where it sings, why are Indian men sexual deviant or kinky sex pigs?

Though I wish that was the facet it would have been cathartic to come out of the closet. Unfortunately it would be safe to say, for this today is not the day.

Option 2 is also out, pigs stay so much in the open, that there is no question of any misinterpretation.

Now the understanding is in light, it would be safe to assume that the question means why do Indian men deviate from what is considered correct and right.

Keeping the semantics aside, perverted is behavior that is not natural beside. Now if such behavior is natural and not a ruse than the usage of the term perverted becomes superfluous and we are still a little clueless.

What if the pig were to say, the conundrum in your mind, would read right and you come clean, if the question was why are Indian men perverted pigs according to Indian women, only then the answer you would find.

Pig has only tried to take away the question’s sheen but that does not warrant any spleen.

“A wicked man taketh a gift out of the bosom to pervert the ways of judgment”…Bible

Tagged

2008-07-08T12:44:00.005+05:30

Tagged by Gauri. Never been tagged before, but this one comes with a divine intervention for reasons best kept secret.

So the tag is about 5 things (i would double that) which the better (by a mile) half (just half???) has changed in me. That really requires not much of thinking, possible to answer with one word - EVERYTHING.

But I assume tag requires one to be more specific, so here it goes-

She has changed my outlook towards marriage. I assumed life would change after marriage and I was right and completely wrong. It changes but surprisingly for the better. Not only do I do all the things which i did (boys nightouts, golf, video games, all night movie watching, drinking insanely) before marriage but now there is a friend at home also to continue the party. Now i actively recommend marriage to everyone, including strangers, even people I hate (this I used to do before also but for different reasons).
A little (this one is miniscule but of astronomical proportions relatively) sense of responsibility. Reminders are required, but her positive attitude towards anything, home or office, has brought a definite change. And even that small change has helped in my professional life - I procrastinate less, take more responsibility, am little more proactive, less lazy. Its gradual but i am getting there.
I have been to, seen more places with her and because of her. She has this itch in the feet wherein we need to do things and visit places where we have never been before and things done before. Journey is still on and before we are done I am sure she would ensure we have visited every country in the world and every city in India worth seeing atleast once.
She has been able to change pronunciations that were genetically coded in my thick punjabi accent. Enunciation is better, I can not only write this word but say it too, and also entrepreneur, strategy, milieu and zillion more.
Due to her unparalleled cooperation i am today a superhero, conqueror of the universe, the bete-noire/nemesis of green goblin and father of an adorable daughter.
Her amazing optimism and zest for life has rubbed on my head in the sand pessimism.
I read better books, change my wardrobe once a year (against the earlier average of when the threads vanish with washing), have clipped nails, clean haircut and a shaved, well scrubbed face. And better manners - now i remember to say goodbye to the hosts when we are leaving their house.
I have a better career because of her, she encouraged me to change, take risks - do whatever I wanted.
I can tolerate my relatives now, just barely. I do not get angry while driving (that probably saved me from getting shot one of these days). I have learnt it is possible to talk to people you are meeting for the first time or don't like in more than monosyllables and about things other than weather.
I am in a better shape to flirt than I have ever been in my life, so good that I think I can probably manage another wife (hey come on, you can't expect me to say only the right things).

So thanks to her I am still ME but a BETTER ME.

i tag

The true wisdom of chick emancipation flicks revealed

2008-06-30T16:24:00.005+05:30

I was watching yesterday Break-up starring Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn for lack of doing anything worthwhile.

It was fine, going nowhere, but still throwing here and there some interesting moments. Then it ended. And what an enlightening ending.

Let’s revisit the plot. A nowhere going couple gets into a stupid fight, fight that gets stupider by the minute, till the woman has a Buddha flash of wisdom (copious tears all ignored here by me with a quick dash to the fridge for more beer) and they break-up. What caught my attention was the closure moment. They meet again after undefined but not too long period, she is now a successful high flying career woman and the man is kind of nobody, dumbass, at low end of life kinda person.

Moral of the story –Don’t leave a woman because if you leave her she will be successful and you a dumbass jack.

That’s cool. Good for you ladies.

Or maybe I should be selfish and not let you go for my own good.

Hey, hey now wait a minute….but that would mean you still would be good for nothing sorry ass, who I regret meeting in my life and the “living hell” goddess of misery.

I have a vague suspicion that I have missed a very vital point here.

Am I supposed to treat you like dirt so that you succeed or am I supposed to pamper you so that you rot?

Message currently decoded by simple male brain-

Mean, selfish men treat their women nicely and ensure women go nowhere, while they do well in their careers and lead a comfortable life.
Benevolent, caring, sensitive, gentle men, kick women around, are heartless and insensitive to their needs so that she succeeds.

I know there is a catch somewhere there. Could someone explain this conundrum and clear this fog of confusion.

Honest. Honestly?

2008-06-25T11:44:00.000+05:30

Is your virtue an offspring of fear?

A lot of us, including me, try to give our meekness a garb of honesty. We all are privy and participants in conversations wherein we crib about the growth of an aggressive, nasty, corrupt person in the organization while we stay on slower, normal curves. And collectively we moan, oh yes, he is growing fast today but in the end honesty shall prevail, the truth will be found out, he/she shall suffer, I will be rewarded, they would realize my worth and the other person’s shallowness.

Ah dear, sorry to disappoint you but that would never happen, you shall rot and he/she shall reign. And before I forget to mention they would prevail thanks to our so called honesty.

Let me try to explain my point with an analogy.

A meek person (the erstwhile believer in his honesty, a term I refuse to employ any longer in reference) is ‘honest’ everywhere. They are followers of law, rules, regulations and the works. Imagine this gentleman driving on a single lane road, staying within the well laid out rules and suddenly he finds a rogue driver trying to overtake him where there is no such scope and at the same time there is a big truck coming from the other side.

How does he react?

Yes, he slows down and allows the rogue driver to overtake and come in front of him.

Who was right, honest?

He was.

Who was wrong?

Rogue driver.

Who won?

Rogue driver.

Why did he win?

Not because honest driver was scared for the other person’s life and that was the right thing to do. He was plain scared of the situation and the possible damage to his car.

And his meekness lead to the rogue driver moving ahead and he falling behind.

As on the road, as in life.

We let them win.

The honest path for the driver would have been to stay on his path and risk the rogue driver hitting his car or ideally dying in a just accident.

Honesty is the toughest thing to practice. Path of honesty is not one of peace; it is violent, blood-spattered, aggressive choice. Only the bravest can take the blows of honesty.

Rest of us are just meek.

So I ask again….

Honest.…..honestly?

I am fine, how are you?

2008-06-20T11:33:00.003+05:30

Got this mail as a forward from my wicked dad with a note which read "Could not resist sending this on to you young folks!"

Not sure who wrote it but it would do me good to remember this note for the future not too distant.

I am fine, how are you?

There's nothing the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as can be,
I have arthritis in both knees,
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

All my teeth have had to come out,
And my diet I hate to think about.
I'm overweight and I can't get thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

And arch supports I need for my feet.
Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street.
Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory's failing, my head's in a spin.
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Old age is golden I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed.
With my ears in a drawer,
my teeth in a cup,
And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up.
And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?

The reason I know my Youth has been spent,
Is my get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went!
But really I don't mind, when I think with a grin,
Of all the places my get-up has been

I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and jump back into bed.

The moral of this as the tale unfolds,
Is that for you and me, who are growing old.
It is better to say 'I'm fine' with a grin,
Than to let people know the shape we are in.

I AM FINE HOW ARE YOU ?

You are a golfer when....... Concluding Part

2008-06-17T08:53:00.001+05:30

Contributed by a Golf Buddy

job satisfaction means weekends free for golf and weekdays free for golf research
you convince your wife to take up the game, just so you atleast have a 2-ball
the most important specification in buying a car is the boot size...it has to take your golf set, your golf cart and your friend's golf set and his golf cart- the words
"The woods are lovely dark and deep, and I have miles to go before I sleep" don't mean poetry to you, they just mean that you had a very bad slice on your tee-off
your wife stops worrying about you ever having an affair...where's the time for that?
"Paradise Lost" means your wife insists on joining you for your regular round of golf...henceforth
"Paradise Regained" means she gets pregnant
"Paradise Lost Again" means she is pregnant, but not by you...where was the time for 'that'?
you judge a man not by the size of his balls but by the brand on his balls
the cost on your golf set and equipment actually turns out to be an investment and not a liability
the only thing you want when stranded on a desert island is your sand wedge...why give up on all that potential practice?
you judge your friends for their easy availability to play golf and for their easy ability to lose always to you
all your vacation spots amazingly always seem to have an attached golf course...damn coincidence, you surely didnt plan it that way!
you instinctively note less than what you achieved and more than what your playing partner achieved, especially when you are the one keeping scores
your handicap is actually your calling card
everything else, including the rotation of the earth, is the cause of your disastrous shot, except your lack of skill
you start giving advice to your caddy on his game
you break 80 eighteen times in a row...till then you are just an intruder on a golf course

The weekend that was

2008-06-09T15:33:00.004+05:30

Delightful movies, pleasing company, till I dropped drinking, satisfying conversations, joyful reading…. Just the way weekends should be (and always are) especially when your wife is not around. Wives are delightful creatures but some part of genetic coding gets mutated to one which is a perfect match with that of Hitler and some which has an uncanny resemblance to that of Genghis Khan, post marriage. Despite the threat, weekend of absolute irresponsibility was too tempting to pass by.

Even now as I am writing this, I am fully aware my wife would read it at some point of time but then I am also dumb enough not to absorb in my little male brain, that is not numb with overdose of alcohol and conscious, the repercussions of the wrath of a woman.

Office got over at 1800 hours on Friday and before that calls had been made to the right numbers and plans frozen and the ball rolling. And before the time-space equation adjusts to the new reality and Einstein’s relativity I was standing in front of Koshy’s and sooner than earth could turn another degree a glass of chilled beer was inches away from my lips. For the next 3 hours the only time I exercised my vocal chords was to order more beer. Time to pay a zillion rupee bill and just then a friend, a true friend, a dear friend, god bless him friend, walked in and took the tab (I told you it was a great weekend). From there still with a steady mind (or so I believe) oscillating a little bit on unsteady legs I went for Sarkar Raj.

Detour 1: Review of Sarkar Raj

Before I start with the review, lemme share my parameters of evaluating a movie. While watching any movie, the joy or disappointment can emanate from various reasons – technique, story, novelty, acting, style, idea or a combination of these - I am an average cinephile and no critic. I do not seek a perfect movie, I can love a movie just for a very small interesting moment.

Sarkar Raj is an extremely satisfying experience. It is absorbing political-criminal thriller executed in a manner which does justice to the genre. Political thrillers require scale, multiple threads, conspiracies, surprises, twists, grey areas, machinations which are not obvious to the naked eye, behind the scene negotiations, drama, loss of innocence, tragedy of epic scale -all this when the viewer looks at the obvious and makes obvious conclusions. The skill of the director is in bringing all the threads together in a cohesive manner which will ensure each scene is played again in viewer's mind and finally understood. The mind should gasp when the curtain is finally raised and amidst tragedy the end must offer a poetic and complete justice. Where an average film achieves this through pulping the villain, Sarkar Raj achieves in exactly 3 seconds. A turn of camera angle, click of light and you know it’s done, revenge, wrath, justice achieved in that short defining moment.

Ram Gopal Varma achieves all this to such a scale that as a viewer you should be generous enough to overlook the obvious flaws in the story or characters or his indulgence as a director of overplaying some scenes with Amitabh or his over-crafting of some scenes.
As a viewer just enjoy the story and ignore other paraphernalia.

End of detour 1

In between the detour there was a short interval which was well utilized by raising the alcohol level to another abnormal level – thanks to another, God bless him friend.

Sub note: In what you have read so far and what you would read further, you would find a trillion screaming subtle reasons on why men should marry and why wives should never leave men alone for longer than 5 minutes (that too only when husband has trustworthy track record of longer than 6 ½ years). This post is truly an ode to all the wives all over the world.
We are now at the end of Friday night or were it Saturday morning by now.

Reached late, got up early, had an early meeting with someone at 10.00am. Reached there on time, finished it quickly and walked towards my car. I had to buy some stuff for my daughter’s 1st day at school. I could have bought that from any store but decided to go to my favourite book store, with a promise to myself since I had really splurged money this month, I would just look at the books and not buy any. Honestly, I made that promise. Exit after 1 hour after spending Rs 1878 – Rs 50 for Avni’s stuff and balance small change on extremely vital, life saving critical books (Return of Dark Knight and two books from Discworld series).

As I stood waiting, the god bless him friend (1st one, who paid for alcohol not the 2nd one, though he also paid for alcohol) called. He had managed to get three tickets for Aamir and I was supposed to collect them before 12. Pronto I reached the Cineplex collected the tickets and stood there waiting for him to join. Now as I stood there, involuntarily, from the corner of my eye I caught a very attractive signage – Bull & Bush, pub and restaurant. I didn’t see it, these eyes showed it to me and formed an inverted image on the retina which was made straight by the brain and then the image decided to play havoc with my strong resilient mind. So after a long debate and counter-arguments that lasted 7¾ seconds I found myself ordering beer. Time was short, movie was starting in 30 minutes, I really had no choice but to drink quickly. It was painful, joyless exercise. I was not even able to breathe properly between two sips. But a man gotta do what a man gotta do. I did it. I moved from the plane of senses to delirium at the same speed as a married man would whenever, wherever left alone (this is another of those subtle hints). Can’t disappoint the brethren.

Detour No. 2 – Review of Aamir

I do not care what the reviewers write about it or the movie-buffs call it a copy of Cavite, according to me this is the movie of the decade. Relevant, timely, compelling cinema - Amazingly crafted, soulfully enacted, significant story, haunting music and beautifully shot. I am sure some of you know the meaning of the word aamir (and in case you like me do not know, don’t google it, the impact of the movie would be even better) but when the final shot the title comes on the screen you would realize why the movie is called Aamir.
It is a story of a Muslim doctor who comes back from UK and finds no one from his family to receive him. Out of the blue two guys come and throw a cell phone at him and the cat & mouse chase starts. The man on the other end (menacing Gajraj Rao) asks him to follow his instructions. He takes the protagonist on a wild chase and in the process numbs his mind. Numbs to the state where cohesive thinking is lead astray and in its place survival becomes the lone objective, a form of brain-washing, torture turning the victim a mere puppet in the hands of the master . At this point the movie moves towards the climax, climax which hopes for a better future - An appeal for a better choice. I wish someone would have the courage to make a similar story about Hinduism.

My advise watch it.

End of Detour No. 2

So we came of the hall in a heightened state of delirium and this friend turns and says he knows Gajraj Rao. We made him call him and screamed our praises in a collective din –not sure he heard them as a praise or abuse. But that call made it perfect, to be able to tell an actor how much I loved his performance.

From this point onwards it was all downwards as we paid our obeisance to Lord Bacchus. Our devout, dedicated devotion was well received and we were rewarded with complete clouding and obfuscation of rational thought. In a trance and under his will we moved from one place to another and paying our respects with every color to every taste the he was benevolent to offer on the table till we were satiated with his munificent, bountiful Prasad and in could only say in praise a loud snore lying on the floor. One of us even returned some of it after accepting it.

All the drinks were courtsey God bless them friends 3,4 & 5. 2 was not there and 1 was enjoying God bless them moment himself.

Few hours are missing at this point. But at some point I found myself waking up on the back side of the car.

We are now at the end of Saturday night or were it Sunday morning by now.

Sunday never started it had actually ended on Saturday night itself.

I somehow managed to drag myself up sometime in the afternoon, drove back home, took out the life saving books, which I had managed not to lose, and read and slept and read and slept and slept and slept, till now.

So darling wife come back quickly before I kill myself.

P.S: I told you I should come along.

You know you are a golfer when....... (Part II)

2008-06-05T10:34:00.006+05:30

Contributed by Champ, THE Golf Buddy

You practice your golf swing everywhere – inside a loo, a conference room, a shopping mall, the parking lot…
Everything around your office environs feels like a golf course. The plant on the hallway – a tree hazard. The boss’s cube – a giant pit (avoid! avoid!). The narrow carpeted passages between cubicles – a beautiful fairway…
Honesty and fair play comes naturally.
Your wardrobe does not have the following items: Jeans, round neck tees, baggy pants…
Driving to the course at 4:00 am in the morning to chase a golf ball for 4 hours seems to be the most normal thing to you.
All your vacations are planned on the basis of proximity to a golf course. No course? No go!
You always carry the absolute essentials when going on a business trip – money, ID, blackberry, one glove.
You have an Excel sheet of all the scores of your last 52 games, complete with graphs, charts and SWOT analysis.
You take a break from this post at this point, and tell your friend that “Hey, I am done with the front nine, back nine to go”
You love nature. From within.
You realize that in golf, as in life, sometimes you are ahead, sometimes you are behind, the race is long…and the at the end, is only with yourself.
You go to pick up your buddy on a Saturday morning, you honk the horn, he comes out with his golf set on his back, and the cap on his head, and you drive off – and you know that, right at that moment, life cannot get better. (Note: This is a quote from Baz Luhrmanns song "Wear Sunscreen". http://www.lyricscrawler.com/song/3953.html)
Your favorite ads are those from Accenture. You wonder why they are not nominated to the Oscars.
Your idea of a fun weekend is to go to the golf practice range and watch others hit. And marvel at the flight of a golf ball that has been hit well. You can sit and watch for hours!
Your dream house is on a golf course. Facing the 18th green. So are all your golf buddy’s dream houses…
When you buy a new car, the first thing you check out is the boot space – how many sets can I fit into this thing? Will it fit three sets? And a cart? A friend’s cart?
Sometimes, grass can be more precious to you than gold. Especially if its grass from St. Andrews Golf Course. The Madikeri golf club has some of it, carefully placed in a jar for all true golfers to see and admire.
It takes you 18 days to write this, and you thoroughly enjoy every one of those 18 days.

Dumbass

2008-05-26T13:48:00.005+05:30

Strong Caution (no longer valid - offensive language deleted): The words used in this post are the only ones which truly and aptly describe the person(s)/personality being described here. So if choice of such real life, right emotion evoking words offend you this would be the right point to stop. And in case you choose to go beyond this point and do get offended then you are the person I had in mind while writing this post because you were “dumbass” not to stop even against the right advise.

I had first used an appropriate word but it was found to be too offensive so have changed it to a milder one. Ideally should have deleted the post but I like it so it stays.

We all meet “dumbasses” and say why the fuck is he such a “dumbass”. Doesn’t he know he is a “dumbass” and why can’t he stop being one.

My dear friends I have made the discovery that would assuage your discomfort and put your mind to rest whenever you find yourself in a company of a “dumbass”.

The mandatory pre-requisite for a person who is a “dumbass” is that he doesn’t know he is a “dumbass”. He simply doesn’t know.

The logic is irrefutable. All facts point towards it.

So let’s start with the premise that a “dumbass” knows he is a “dumbass”. I doubt anybody starts wanting to be a “dumbass”. If nobody wants to be a “dumbass” that means a “dumbass” would try not to do what makes him a “dumbass” and when he does that he no longer would be a “dumbass”. And if a person is capable to such lucid thought that would mean he was never a “dumbass”.

That means premise was wrong.

A “dumbass” doesn’t know he is one.

QED.

So next time you meet a “dumbass” you would know that he is a “dumbass” not by choice - he is just a “dumbass” by a stroke of nature.

And you who is thinking of leaving a smart comment that proves I am one by using my logic against me, I just have one thing to say “dumbass” didn't you read strong caution.

God's own country

2008-05-08T10:13:00.008+05:30

View to the room
Artisitic ambition

Taj Retreat in the night. The oil lamps are lit every night and managed

by women from a near by village. Place looks amazing in the night.

Lazing around

My malhar on the boat ride.

Still lazing

Sunset

Sunset.

It definitely took a long time for the sun to set on this see the sun set boat ride.

You are a golfer when….

2008-04-29T17:23:00.002+05:30

You find a crawling ant on the green louder than a screaming wife at home
You might be late for every meeting while you would be standing sharp on time for your tee-time
You might be an atheist for life but would think of God before hitting every shot
You stand on a beautiful beach and the sight of sand gives you a fright
You suddenly find yourself spreading your legs and wiggling your bum in a crowded room
You find yourself practicing writing with the golf grip
You see Jaani Rajkumar in a new light when you discover those hideous white shoes are actually golf shoes
You find yourself smiling at your mom-in-law after a great golf round
Your every holiday destination needs to have at least one golf course
Your wife says tea-time and your eyes light up
No one can tell you a golf joke you have not heard or read before
You take your golf set along when buying a new car
There is no posture of yoga that you cannot do
You convince your wife that caddying for you is quality time.
Swinging alone is also fun
All your friends have an handicap
You still have the hope of playing good golf week after week even after sucking at it for the last seventeen years
You are not a cow but grass makes you drool

My rejected advertising ideas

2008-04-29T13:41:00.004+05:30

The world will never see or hear or read or admire or award any of these ideas.

Why?

Elementary, my dear Watson, these are rejected ideas buried in the annals of advertising briefs. (a small detour here, the aforementioned phrase is false as the character of Holmes in the none of the books have ever said it. He did say Elementary in the story “the crooked man” but never the full phrase).

So why try to bring to life the dead ideas?

I have not written anything for a long time and am unable to think of anything, so I thought let this be the post for today.

Moreover these ideas had amused me then and might not be bad for another chuckle.

Disdainfully Rejected Idea No. 1:
Product: Mint
To take you back to the genesis of this idea. We were working to reposition a mint brand. The brief from the client was to break the clutter and research showed that the purchase is one occasion linked (immediately after smoke), impulse or an exchange for loose change. The time gap between the intentions to action is minimal or to say it simply what matters is TOMA. And TOMA is linked to advertising and POP visibility. Damn this is getting too academic, coming back to the idea, the problem was any possible position was already occupied – more attractive to opposite sex, fresh breath, throat etc etc. So we had an option either to say the same thing with a different creative expression or find something new.
My thought was that the benefit of the product is well established, the solution is to find a creative expression which is so absurd that it will stick through sheer amusement. But the idea need to be linked to the core product benefit of fresh breath.
So I proposed XYZ Mint means long happy life – Eat this and live long.
I had an irrefutable logic to the whole thing.
It is proven fact that people who have more friends and have an active sex life (ignoring the hazards of AIDS) live longer.
Now lets ladder.
Ladder 1: Mint -> fresh breath -> Pleasant personality -> more friends -> long life
Ladder 2: Mint -> fresh breath -> Attractive -> more Girl friends -> Active sex life -> long life

Add them and you will be lead back to the starting point of long life.

Ahem, now you know too why it was rejected.

Scornfully Rejected Idea No. 2: No preamble here straight to the creative line-
“Men who wear jockey will never understand bra-burners”

Contemptuously Rejected Idea No. 3: Isn’t it time you guys gave me a promotion?

I think I have embarrassed myself enough for a day. But beware there are millions more such “hall of shame” ideas which you would can be subjected to if you don’t leave some nice comments here.

And if you upset me, such ideas would infest your comment posts to ruin your blog.

Corporate destiny

2008-04-21T13:19:00.002+05:30

He was a dedicated, honest, committed employee. And he had a nasty boss who made his life miserable.

Boss was spiteful, malicious and ensured every day in office was living hell. None of his great ideas ever saw the light of the day.

Boss had an uncanny habit of creating some critical work every Friday evening ensuring nights in the office every weekend.

He had lost his hunger and had not had a restful sleep for months. The very thought of office gave him nightmares.

After another horrid day in the office, he was lying on his bed. He made a wish – God, I try to do my best in the office every day and fail because of my boss. I am the good person here and he the bad one. Despite this he sleeps peacefully while I rot. Why I am not the boss and he the junior? If I was in his position everything would be right.

And while still mulling these thoughts after much tossing and turning he slept.

He had another miserable night full of nightmares.

Next day when he woke up, his wish had come true.

God knows how but the universe had conspired to make his wish true.

And with a purpose he strode towards the office.

He was there at his desk sharp at 9.30 and waiting to discuss his ideas with the junior.

10.00 am – no sign of the junior. Must be busy, he thought.

11.00 am – still no sign. Now he was getting restive. As a concerned boss he tried calling but no response.

11.30 am – junior walked in nonchalantly and sat down.

He called the junior to his room and with great enthusiasm discussed his idea.

Junior aggressively argued against the idea and even after much persuasion refused to buy into the idea. Boss had committed a presentation to the management the next day.

At 5.30 junior walked out of office after giving the work-life balance spiel to the boss.

He had to stay back in office till 1.00 am to finish all the work.

He had another miserable night full of nightmares.

The full sunday

2008-04-21T09:07:00.000+05:30

I had a full sunday this weekend.

I ate the whole day.

Rolling Ball

2008-04-15T15:17:00.003+05:30

The traveller as he was walking down the road was surprised by the sudden appearence of the ball.

In one fluid motion he kicked the ball back to kids.

He stood there for sometime deep in thought.

He did not go any further.

Tourist

2008-04-15T11:48:00.002+05:30

I envy the people who become part of the new cities they move to.

People who embrace the change that comes with the change.

Read a beautifully written article by Gauri about Kolkata and the evolution of her relationship with the city.

People say cities have their own unique personality. And your interaction with their unique traits redefines you as a person. Each city carries with it its unique smell, distinctive sound, individual voice, singular touch. And with time you immerse yourself in it and become a tide of its flow.

I wonder how that happens.

I have lived in many cities but somehow my own voice muted any other sound around me.

I lived in Pune and was never touched by its spirituality. I lived in Delhi and never heard its boisterous voice. I missed Mumbai’s smell of sea. I never tasted Bangalore’s sweetness and never saw the vibrant colors of Panjab.

I look back at all those years and the tragedy of life stares back at me.

There are multitudes of worlds around me and in this myriad is a world that is mine, is me. And every time I see a new world I have two options, either bring my world to the new world or fight against the new world to protect my world.

I chose to fight and unfortunately won each time. I surrounded myself with the known, the comfortable and the familiar.

I have never have had friend in any of those cities who was a local. I moved with outsiders like me, their own microscopic worlds no threat to mine. We all saw this unique world from outside.

I was probably a tourist in each of these cities, clicking my pictures for the photo album to be
shared with friends & family once the vacation was over.

I know now what I should have known then and I still live in a new city.

Will I change?

Unfortunately no.

For me there is now only one world, world of my creation.

Microscopic, insignificant but mine.

Resident of my asylum & confined for life.

Free Tibet - Blog and Tackle

2008-04-08T10:27:00.005+05:30

Creative by: Manoj Jacob

Note from Manoj:

"I understand the theory of not mixing politics and sports, but I fail to understand its application with regard to the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The world's largest sporting event will earn a huge sum of money for the Chinese Government. And as you know the bullets being pumped into Tibet don't come free.

Whose side are you on?

If it's China, you don't have to go any further than this.

If it's Tibet, copy these ads and post them on your blog, and pass the word on to other bloggers. If you're not a blogger, save the ads on to your computer and mail them out to as many people as you think might care."

For more details log on: www.shoestringtheband.blogspot.com

Wayanad Trip

2008-04-08T09:07:00.015+05:30

Road to the resort
The resort - Fringe Ford

The day companion

Share the chair with someone surprise visitors

The view from the car

The dining room

Sunset time

The night guests

Fresh Food

Neighbours

View on the way

Some more

Pit stop in the middle of the jungle

The Holi Assassin

2008-04-08T09:05:00.002+05:30

Sca-Hairy Thought

2008-04-04T11:36:00.001+05:30

I read a very interesting piece of information in a book “Herd” by Mark earls on why humans are virtually hairless – the naked ape. Being hairless actually is a necessity for our survival. The hypothesis is built around neotenic mutation. Neotenic mutation is when an adult demonstrates infantile behavioural characteristics. The evolutionary advantage neotenic mutation offers is in our social behavior. The first lesson we learnt was that a man is a social animal. And we all know that our higher social skills are a pre-requisite for our survival.

“The infant mutation is advantageous because of the social capabilities it brings. Infant chimps are much less violent than adults and happily live in larger groups. In other words, being already of social ape stock, the infant mutation that is our species has been selected for its ability to live even larger and more complex lives. Being a neotenic mutation enables us to be the social ape par excellence.”

Now obviously to educate you is not the reason to share this information.

I was wondering can we conclude from this data that people who have more body hair are more chimps and less human?

This would be true if they display similar or close to the behavior exhibited by chimps, which in general are-

1. Extraordinarily hostile and bullying behavior towards outsiders
2. Competitive by nature and cooperative only under specific circumstances
3. Obsessed with sex

Now surprisingly most of the hairy people I know demonstrate very similar behavior.

I think what these people probably need are trainers and not mentors.

Please corroborate.

Neil Gaiman's Sandman

2008-04-03T12:57:00.005+05:30

"-His madness... His madness keeps him sane."
- And do you think he is the only one, my sister?"
Delirium and Dream, in Fables and Reflections.

"Do you know what Freud said about dreams of flying? It means you're really dreaming about having sex."
"Indeed? Tell me, then, what does it mean when you dream about having sex?"
Rose Walker and Dream, in SANDMAN #15: "Into The Night"

"-I am anti-life, the beast of judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds... of everything.
And what will you be then, Dreamlord?
- I am hope."
Choronzon and Dream, playing the oldest game, in Preludes and Nocturnes.

"What power would Hell have if those imprisoned were not able to dream of Heaven?" Dream

Once in a while you read a book, which fascinates you, thrills you, fulfills you as a reader yet confounds you. You know the story, you know exactly what happened, how it happened and why it happened but the story doesn’t belong to you. It somehow slips from your grasp, what you remember are the fragments, traces floating on a superfluous surface, the hint of the meaning, the sense waiting to be held yet slipping away.

Neil Gaiman’s epic Graphic novel Sandman is one such book. To give a gist it is 10 volume story of the Lord Shaper, Morpheus, the endless - king of the dreams from his unfortunate capture by a mortal till his death – death not of a body but of a concept- that brings alive a new concept.

In the book we are introduced to the seven endless siblings – Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair and Delirium (the erstwhile delight) – the endless who were born with the first life, existed before Gods, would be there after Gods and will exist till there is life in Universe. The story is pivoted around the lord of endless stories with others playing pivotal role in his journey. We get to know that Destruction has abdicated his duties, we get to know delirium was once delight and we meet the beautiful, compassionate, the rock star sister of Dream – Death. And you realize it is so logical that Death has to be a beautiful woman not some scythe holding horror character.

It is long linear story interlined with short non-linear episodes, you are introduced to multitude of characters and each has a role of play in the endgame. The short episodes are the most delightful part of the saga, Neil Gaiman picks up many real stories, myths, tales and with consummate ease retells the story, redefines it, molds it in shapes that refurbish the tales and where we saw a veneer, he gives us a glimpse of the story behind the story.

You learn how mythology is created. Every myth in the end is as real as the myth itself. We believe in them and this book is as real as any story we have heard before.

Under all its layers and layers beneath layers the story is about Change. Every change means the end of something, when anything changes either you adopt it or you die. But every time you change, the old you ceases to exist. You are no longer the reflection of what you were and you are not even a mirror of what you would be, you are what you are at that moment.

Sandman is a journey in and of dreams. Dreams are fickle, sometimes you wake up in the morning you have an uneasy feeling or a sense of delirium, you remember dreaming but you don’t remember the dream, Sandman is one such dream – a nightmare and a delight – both at the same time.

"People think dreams aren't real because they aren't made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they're made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes..." ~ John Dee

Happy reading

The Strange world of Ms. Twitty. Episode 2 - Deadly Combo

2008-03-27T15:19:00.002+05:30

Actors:

Ms. Twitty - Twisted mind female
Mr. Flummoxed - lets just call him another poor victim

Setting: The office lunch room

Mr. Flummoxed swaggers in to Ms. Twitty's table.

Mr. Flummoxed: Guys have you ever tried beer and grapes, it is a deadly combo.
Ms. Twitty (deadpan expression): Have you ever tried sex and marie biscuits?
Mr. Flummoxed: ......

Scene fades with Mr. Flummoxed still trying to get the concotion right in his mind.

The strange world of Ms. Twitty - Episode 1: Sex Appeal

2008-03-27T15:14:00.003+05:30

Actors:
Mr. Victim – 30 year old virgin male
Ms. Twitty – Twisted mind female

Setting: office lunch room. Mr. Victim and Ms. Twitty having a conversation.

Ms. Twitty: Why have not shaved today?
Mr. Victim (touching his stubble in a macho manner): This is my sex appeal.
Ms. Twitty: Sex Appeal? YOU better appeal to court for some sex.
Mr. Victim: ……

Scene fades with Mr. Victim eating food quietly and probably still thinking how to draw some blood.

Not for today post and there is no tomorrow

2008-03-27T11:42:00.002+05:30

Enamored by now.

A society as it progresses gets more and more self engrossed with the present. And the same gets inflected in the individual. Only the immediate realities get any attention from us.

Our choices bring forth this uncomfortable truth - choices from the inane to less inane. It is uncomfortable to look or think about the future. Art, culture, literature become victims of our existentialist thinking and living.

Everything gets compromised. Look at our cinema of today, we create escapist worlds or reflective cinema - Inane humor or dark realities. Unquestioning, unthinking worlds or sinister inner realms. Those 24 frames per second illusions are about us and are us. We root for the evil, brooding psychopath and not for the conscientious cop. The old villain is the new hero.

Literature is boring. We have no time to waste time on these fictional narratives. We would rather spend time reading the biography of the Richard Branson than peek into tormented soul of Edgar Allen Poe. We relish the one liners of Oscar Wilde while his foreboding warning of a egocentric, narcissist world catches dust in a corner. We would never see any correlation or debate about the George Orwell’s ominous Big Brother and the www.

Silliness , stupidity and ridiculousness of our discussions.

Imagine Paris Hilton is a celebrity while we have no idea who is our Vice President. We would know the names of our favorite actors dog or grandchildren or have an opinion about their choice of clothes but would have no talk about the Nandigram or Nihari Killings except the unmeant, insincere tutt tutt. Go tutt tutt yourself.

Have you ever wondered how economic disparity impacts your life?

Think why you are scared of the guards who guard your house? Or why you clutch your purse a little tighter when you see under-privileged? Or where the rampant consumerism is taking us?

Ever in passing has it ever crossed your mind, how hollow your life is? Or why moving from one mall to another is entertainment or probably your only hobby today?

Future is invented today and today we have no future.

We are today petty minds, with petty needs and pitiable lives.

Probably this was not the place you wanted to be for your daily high. Thank for reading and forgetting is faster than you read.

Goodbye and good luck.

Why not?

2008-03-19T17:14:00.001+05:30

Fathers and sons.

They have their small talk, healthy discussions, heated arguments but do they really ever have a conversation?

Teach to contribute

2008-03-11T20:47:00.003+05:30

It is sometimes amazing to think how our education system is skewed towards mediocrity. And when you look around it is so tragic to find we as people are so oblivious to this glaring fact.

This mediocrity which gets ingrained in our way of thinking from the cradle then cascades and permeates every facet of our life – work, thinking, living.

The question is where does this mediocrity stem from?

The mediocrity stems from the role educators give to the reason for education. The primary stress any institution delves on is “success”. We are trained to succeed.

And how do you succeed?

Simple, beat the average.

It doesn’t matter whether you beat the mean by 0.1 or by 49.9 as long as you are above the average you succeed.

It regresses our mental approach to survival and not evolution.

"Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will die. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you'd better be running."

If you have attended any business school this is the first adage you hear and are taught.

This is the current spectrum.

Imagine another spectrum where the focus is not on succeeding but on contributing.

Contribute.

It doesn’t matter which field you choose, what subject you study, what profession you pick, a child is taught to contribute.

Envisage a scenario where the teacher tells his class your chosen field today stands here, can you push it further? Improve not manage.

It no longer is about the capability of your peers, it is challenge to you?

Individualistic.

Your potential, your capability, your courage, your mind, your body.

This way of education is with a purpose and can start at every level.

Anything you are taught are small building blocks leading towards a bigger picture.

You are not taught to remember 1, 2, 3 but the meaning of numbers.

Imagine.

The only field where this approach is applied is sports. You have landmarks, benchmarks, bars which athletes, sportsperson are constantly thriving to beat and better. The coaches remind you constantly about these goals, these legends. These legends are used as tools of inspiration for child as well as a professional sportsperson.

If it can happen in sports why won’t the same tool be applicable in education?

Twice

2008-03-11T08:37:00.001+05:30

Some books need to be read twice.
Some stories need to be told twice.
Some lives need to be lived twice.
Some faces need to be looked at twice.
Some people need to be beaten twice.
Some chances need to be taken twice.
Some chances need to be given twice.
And some friendships need to be made twice.

No Smoking

2008-02-27T17:27:00.001+05:30

The most panned movie of last year, hated by the critics, derided by the audience (most of them at least). And I, the gullible trusting soul almost believed them.

Thank God, better sense prevailed and I actually did watch the movie.

But the reason I am writing this mail is not to sing paeans for this wonderful work of art but about something which really made me think.

There is no background to it and context will be only for those who have seen the movie.

Ranvir Shorey losing his fingers (rather forcibly cut by Baba) and Baba restoring the finger later and Ranvir accepting it like a reward.

What an analogy?

Someone took something precious from you, something that never belonged to him, and not only takes away, takes it away as if it is his right and finally returns something which was always yours and never his as a reward and you accept it with gratitude at the benevolence.

Isn’t this exactly what the state does to its citizens?

A small scene, possibly missed if you blink twice but captures the intent of the film maker so beautifully - The eternal struggle of the individual against the state.

It’s not about the cigarette it is about free will.

Move your word

2008-02-22T16:04:00.001+05:30

Have you ever played chess? If you have you will know what I am talking about.

It’s a beautiful addictive game. And people who play it love to play it every day, anywhere, anytime.

It is played in the mind but sometimes the mind also plays the game with the game.

If you leave the game once, for whatsoever short time, it is a very hard to start again.

Now if you would listen to me, I will share a secret - this our friend mind by nature is a lazy bugger- hates working, hates thinking – and if given a choice would rather sleep than exercise those grey cells.

So when the mind gets a chance to laze it gets practically impossible to raise it from the slumber.

Writing in that way is like playing chess, assembling your forces in the mind and then pushing your weapons forward, pushing a word here, hiding a metaphor there, tricking, weaving a perfect web where the reader will find no way of escaping your world and your logic.
So coming back to the original question, have you ever played Chess?

If you have you would now why I couldn’t write for the last so many days.

Checkmate, finally.

I win this time.

Film(s)y Heroine

2008-02-11T11:57:00.000+05:30

People say a man is intrigued with a woman till they have sex.

So say people not I.

But what ‘people’ say seems to find merit for the Hindi film heroine. But the sex is not literal here but metaphorical and finds its expression in what every actor dreams of achieving atleast once in their career– a role that moves the audience, makes them love you, hate you, lust you, despise you or whatever the performance requires – the moment when actor transcends the threshold which the mortals aspire and the God’s trapeze.

But unfortunately this moment of perfect union of the actress and the audience is also the most tragic one for the actress. It is the end of the love affair. The beginning of the end of the career.

If you look from the wide angle, an actress’s career traverses a particular path and as we will see would hold good for any name, irrespective of the era.

There is particular movie in which the ‘man’ (audience) ‘sees’ her for the first time (and this need not be the first movie) and falls in love. Then the chase begins wherein she teases him, promising the world but still playing elusive and one day the moment comes when sex happens. A role where she gives her all – sweat all moment –orgasmic, perfect, pure.
In that moment the enigma disappears.

The smarter actress ensures she has a headache as long as possible and has a little more prolonged careers, than some who had it all but lost it in the heat of the moment – deceived by lust once again.

Now I get down to the brass-tacks – proving the hypothesis right.

Sridevi the seductress managed her career well but her moment of weakness was ‘chandani’. That is the role which catapulted her as the serious actress. Ideally ‘Lamhe’ should have been her moment of glory but the audience enjoyed that role but her moment of toasting was long over by then.

Rani Mukherjee after playing in the fringes for a number of years was discovered in “Chupke Chupke”, teased in her next couple of movies, her moment of glory was “bunty and bubli” and then it was curtains. You might see her around for some more years but the unadulterated adulation she received before would never be achieved again.

I can probably have multiple other examples, but you will find a similar chart everytime.

A career leading to that perfect moment, followed with a downward slope.

While male counterparts manage maybe 4-5 immortal roles, women at best manage 1. Two is an exception never a norm.

Sridevi – Chandani
Madhubala – Mughle Azzam
Madhuri Dixit - ????
Hema Malini – Sholay
Rekha – Umrao Jaan

One exception has been Kajol. Then when she first came to screen, she took the best possible persona that ensured her longevity – my favorite sister. So when she wore that white short short wet mini-skirt in DDLJ one was not aroused but rather disappointed. No wonder she attracts audience despite, the cardinal sin for a hindi film actress, being married.

How about the male actors?

There life is simpler - it boils down to straight hair.

http://mapsofmymind.blogspot.com/

2008-02-01T11:14:00.000+05:30

Thank you for making my day.

30th January

2008-01-31T16:36:00.001+05:30

Yes we all know that Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated on that day.

But we live in busy times and details sometimes slip from our cluttered mind.

Yesterday I completely forgot about the day.

I came home from switched on the TV and saw, as expected, the news covering the story.

As I sat there watching TV, my subconscious pricked me, reminded me, goaded me, yes Mahatma Gandhi was killed on this day, but dude there is a much bigger, titanic scale tragedy which happened on this day.

I tried to clear the fog and then I remembered it was also Sudip and Anu’s wedding anniversary.

Congratulations Anu and my heartfelt sympathies are with you Sudip.

Prince and his horse

2008-01-30T10:48:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time, prince was riding through a deep jungle on his horse.

Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop

After a long time of galloping the horse turned to the prince and said “Prince, I am thirsty, can we take a break for water?”

They saw a stream of fresh water.

Prince rode the horse to the stream and got down so that horse could drink water.

Horse immediately trotted towards the stream and drinking water greedily…

Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp,

Prince thought while the horse is drinking water he can eat his food. He started eating his food.

Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp.

Horse came back and saw prince eating his food and he thought he should also eat his food.

Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp.

Prince finished his food and went to the stream to drink some water.

Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp, Slurp, slurp

Prince and horse actually overate, so they decided to sleep for some time…

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

They woke after couple of hours and decided to start on their journey again…

Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, Gallop, …………………………………………….……………..

I looked down on my angel, smiled and quietly put her in her bed.

Sweet dreams, darling.

Barbie Dolls

2008-01-28T13:37:00.000+05:30

Picking up another contentious issue to discuss which has been much debated topic with my wife.

The issue that I plan to put forth is my point of view about bringing up a girl child and would very conveniently ignore the counterview expressed by my wife.

The genesis of this debate started from a general observation/comment by me that parents make a big mistake to doll up their little young daughters – Armani clothes and Gucci shoes.

You can see today little girls as young as two-three sashaying in their designer clothes with parents adoring these little models with starry eyes – my daughter prettiest.

I believe this supposedly indulgent innocuous action by parents puts a much disadvantaged female child at an even weaker position.

Such actions reinforce, propagate and establish the very stereotypes women are trying to fight at that young age itself.

A child’s mind is open to suggestions and how she will view herself will be established at that very age.

“You need to look beautiful” is the worst suggestion that a parents can give to their daughters.

I have nothing against people dressing up their kids smartly, what is an issue is the unnatural degree of emphasis on this dumb activity. This simple suggestion becomes a singular focus as they grow up.

Imagine the strength of this vicious cycle, girls as they grow up have other girls as friends who have been trained themselves to consider this as a vital life defining activity, and looking more beautiful than the peer group becomes a singular focus of achievement.

What right do women have to criticize the advertisers and marketers parading beautiful women and building typecasts when that is what they need and talk about the maximum.

Keep a hand on your heart and say this is not true.

It bleeds my heart to see young girls preening themselves in front of the mirror – wasted life, wasted opportunity.

Before the world defines their position in the society, women themselves become slaves of this image. It takes away so much of their energy, attention, focus, capability.

If you ask me it is bloody unfortunate.

Why?
We all know that men look at women as objects and if women also look themselves as objects (beauty a primary focus) that must indulge the male eye, it’s doom written all over – twice.

Before women scream from the rooftops about their rights, I believe they need to look inwards about the role they play themselves as mothers, sisters, friends, colleagues in shaping the stereotype.

Power of suggestion.

Only you can decide whether your daughter will have an ambition to be another Sushmita Sen or a Marie Curie.

p.s: before any "tare jameen par" flag bearer start taking about the tragedy of putting pressure on kids for achievement, let me clarify, this topic is not about degree of achievement (irrelevant point) but about shaping destiny.

Please read this book

2008-01-23T09:28:00.000+05:30

A short story by Ernest Hemingway

2008-01-22T13:33:00.000+05:30

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Hail Master

2008-01-16T10:34:00.000+05:30

A long forgotten experience was remembered in the most unlikely circumstances.

It goes back to days when I was a student (and still had ambitions of being educated and before I decided to stay illiterate by shifting to management from science) we had a gentleman called Prof Deb (his Bengali roots are not unimportant but definitely incidental to this story) as one of the teachers.

Prof. Deb was an acknowledged genius world-wide in his chosen field of Physical Chemistry (theoretical Chemistry) with expertise in some abstruse dense field of quantum chemistry.

But even with his awe-inspiring stature, he probably was the most humble and accessible teacher I have ever studied under (and there were other towering personalities in our college - he was the BIGGEST - but none as approachable ).

Anyone could go up to him and ask the stupidest, dumbest, most basic question and he would explain patiently the query till the student was satisfied. Howsoever busy he could be, no student would ever get rebuffed.

I am probably unable to explain what a stalwart he was. And the questions which he answered probably were a waste of his time and an insult to his intellect and time.

Enough ambling, coming back to the story.

So one day I was having a discussion about him with another professor and I happened to mention to him that I find it so surprising the fact Prof. Deb is so very humble.

Prof. Laltu said something which probably I should not have forgotten but would remember for the rest of my life.

He said “The branch that bears fruit hangs low.”

Diamonds, gold and a little silver – Part 1

2008-01-14T14:54:00.000+05:30

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who is the most beautiful of them all?”
Of course, you my lady.

Every fashion, beauty, cosmetic brand has been giving this answer to the consumer since eternity.

Actually all these brands go a step further – they promise beauty. No ordinary beauty - transcendent beauty.

Is anything wrong with this?

No, not at all.

To be noticed, to be attractive, to stand out is the reason we dress up, invest in gold, diamonds, designer clothes and other fashion products.

Colored hair, torn jeans, ear-rings, bald look nothing but renditions of the same need.

All these are in a way are substitutes for success – I’m better than you. I’m special.

Humans are driven in their effort to be exceptional, brilliant, extraordinary.

The leader of the pack - Everyone wants to be special.

These products primarily address this innate need of the humans and beauty is an expression of this need.

Beauty makes you special. Makes you more than what you are or in a human logic shows your true worth – bow you minions to my glowing personality.

Now if you translate this logic into communication for say a jewelry brand, we will find advertising with beautiful women, products proclaiming their uniqueness, intricate designs.

To a detour here, unique is also an expression of beauty. Only unique will make you stand apart from the herd.

In creative expression terms all communication for beauty and jewelry brand stems from – all eyes upon you (person or the product).

But hey, here is my question, if such brands are addressing this special need, can communication for all these brands be clone of each other?

Another no will not be out of order here.

But that is all what we see… beautiful women, focus on designs, drawing attention to uniqueness –in various creative ways but always in the same form.

Now if a new jewelry brand has to enter this industry, how should it convey its differentiator?

Conventional wisdom will take the new brand to the same playing space. It will create footprints in a field already made dirty by many.

Is there a way in which the brand can differentiate itself without breaking away from the core reason for existence?

For this let’s move back and re-look at what is happening there.

Most of the brands have looked at beauty in a uni-dimensional way and focused on the softer aspects of the term - Mushiness, softness, love, longing, yearning.

But enter the deep recesses of your soul, the need does not stem from these feelings.
The true DNA of beauty is based on a baser human – DOMINATION.

DOMINATION
POWER
CONTROL
LUST

Beauty must give you CONTROL. Control over the emotions of others.

A new truth.

A new reality.

To be continued…..

The Game of the Name

2008-01-14T09:27:00.000+05:30

There are four people, named Anand Roy, Rajiv Dutta, Nitin Bakshi and Sandeep Reddy.

Now Anand would be called Andy, Rajiv will become Dutta,, Nitin would stay Nitin and Sandeep Reddy may acquire a random name like Comet.

We have seen such things happen all the time around us.

There are two interesting things to mull over-

1. How do people give such names and the internal logic behind the game– e.g Roy is short enough but Anand will be Andy or why/how for some names we prefer surnames and in others first names?

2. And why even when these people change friends, cities, schools, jobs, they end up with the same name… andy, comet, and so & so forth?

Any thoughts.

Social Trends 1: The changing “Father – Child” relationship

2008-01-10T15:50:00.000+05:30

One social change which probably will find resonance with lots of people with or around young kids is the changed ‘father-child’ dynamics.

Today we find fathers spending more time with their kids and being concerned about their upbringing on a day to day basis.

This is a phenomenon of the recent years, as earlier, at least during my growing up years (and as corroborated by others in my social group) fathers were less involved with their kids and largely limited their roles to the providers of the family. This is not to take away the huge influence they had as role models and custodians of the family values.

The question that begs to be answered is what brought this change?

One can hazard multiple guesses for the same.

One acceptable theory could emanate from the recent trend of ‘metro-sexual’ behavior expected from the men. The society is creating an extraneous pressure and defining acceptable behavior. This in turn gets internalized by men at a micro-level leading to changed behavior and attitude towards certain facets of life. After all what is ‘metro-sexual’ but to exhibit certain female traits (with family as the fulcrum of this definition).

We can approach this from another direction - the nuclear family and working moms. In this case it is not a question of intent but of compulsion. If this was true, there is no change in the desired attitude but the manifestation can be seen in behavior. But this assumption will be bear out on all the parameters.

But in my opinion the reason for the same is different. And there has not been in any change in the attitude. Fathers of the previous years and the fathers today have a similar psychological make-up, what has changed are the social dynamics. And the change we are experiencing today has a direct correlation with the social pressures and expectations.
The fathers measure their success (as a parent) with the success of their children. They largely limit their role to ensuring that the kids are able to realize their potential in the outside world. Twenty-thirty years back (maybe much less) it meant ensuring that they are able to provide the best facilities and amenities. And this would ensure success. The competition probably was much less severe and the definition of success - the bar – was pegged much lower. Doctor, engineer, government official.

Today the parameters of success have changed. And the parents of today find themselves struggling in the new world. The face the ignominy of the unknown every day. Uncertain future. Missed Megabucks. They crave success which was fiefdom of the only the born rich for themselves. But for the majority the opportunity probably is already missed (lack of training, talent, ambition, fear).

To ensure the success of the kids (mega success or the new acceptable benchmarks and standards of success) fathers no longer can play passive roles. They need to actively train their children for the success that they missed.

The responsibility that fathers always believed has remained unmoved only the manifestation & expression has changed.

Why Mountian Dew will never do well in India

2008-01-10T10:15:00.000+05:30

My views on the current position of Mountain Dew in the category.

Let’s first look at the current TG profile.

At the face it is youth which is further filtered basis the attitude. When addressing the youth the common platform that is taken is “different” but the Mountain Dew youth is the “on the edge different”. If one had to take a typical example if the normal “different youth” would be bunking the class to showcase his freedom, the Mountain Dew youth would be having fun while staying in the class. Everything about him would be an expression of a strong individuality and self-expression, would read Chuck Palanuik rather than Shantaram, would have seen “Old Boy” rather than “Zinda”. Unknown/ Obscure is more exciting than the popular/ known.

The issues

According to me the product faces three issues-

1. A non-cola normally is a substitute drink and not the primary choice. So a category which per se is not very large (in comparative terms), we have a product which is a sub-set of the category and targeted at a segment which in itself is an extremely smaller sub-set of the total market.

2. If one looks at the category the consumer makes a choice over something – I prefer this over that – “Identifiable enemies”. Pepsi vs Coke, Mirinda vs Fanta. So at a product level the “identifiable enemy” should be “Sprite” but for Mountain Dew the enemy is basis the attitudinal point of reference – “Thums Up. So the question that arises – Is it a good anti-point of reference? Maybe not. Thums Up is able to deliver on the attitude basis a very different taste in the category – strong/masculine – and automatically gets clubbed in the parent segment of colas. Though the communication of Mountain Dew has been able to capture the consumer attitude it has not given any clear cues on the product difference.

3. The third key issue is occasion/location of consumption. The non-colas have defined very clear occasion/location situation. Limca/Sprite for thirst, Mirinda/Fanta for taste. “Mountain Dew” the name suggests freshness and the communication cues outdoor but the extreme nature of the communication does not make that easy link with either as the attitude overshadows both. And this leads no reminder for consumption.

The way forward

We will go ahead with the assumption that we are not looking at re-positioning the brand. And the opportunities need to be identified within the existing realities.

Youth – This segment is the high consumption segment, so largely the most attractive segment. If we can make with the Mountain Dew a everyday part of the repertoire of CSD there can be a potential for growth.

a) Associate location/occasion with attitude rather than a physical rendition.

b) Activity seekers – The most visible trend today is the need to be associated with “activity” away from the sedentary fun. People are no longer looking at normal regular modes of enjoyment they are rather seeking something new, something exciting. One can plug in the product with everyday possible but unique activities.

c) Cross-category cues – Maybe I’m going berserk here – direct association with certain brands in similar domain (in attitude or uniqueness) can be used for creating that unique identity of Mountain Dew user. Nike wearers Just Do the Dew.

Overall it is critical that the attitude is owned and rendered into a form which would act is a reminder for consumption.

A very happy new year in Pondicherry (ECR)

2008-01-09T08:46:00.000+05:30

MCP

2008-01-08T11:14:00.000+05:30

Read very interesting trivia yesterday...

Practically in all species females live longer than the males.

That reminded me of a joke about married men-

"Why do married men die before their wives?"

"Because they want to."

Why Harbhajan cannot be racist?

2008-01-07T14:10:00.000+05:30

Oh, Indians probably would be the most discriminating people in the world. But the discrimination that Indians indulge in is very different from what is perceived or assumed as discrimination world over.

We can discriminate over anything - language, color, caste, religion, looks, social status – and everything.

But you would say that is same the world over. So why is Harbhajan not a racist?

Simple, our taunts and comments are blunt and straight forward. We do not have the subtleties to insinuate or have vague innuendos to convey our bigotry.

South Indian – madrasi
Black – Kalu

And so and so forth.

And I don’t think Bhajji given his education level and his assumed intelligence (QED) would have any clue about the aborigines of Australia and monkey being a slur for racism.

He probably could have called him a monkey (though I would assume that the repertoire of Bhajji to be more colorful and impactful and given a reason he would prefer to use the right adjective than a sissy Monkey) and he would have meant just that monkey. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The ban on Bhajji just proves that Australian team is a bunch of chutiyas (translation so that is no ambiguity… Motherfuckers) and the match refree a gandu (asshole) and BCCI by continuing the tour , the biggest hijras (eunuchs).

I would recommend for the next match Indian opens the bowling with Dravid and batting with RP Singh.

And Left arm bowlers to bowl with right hand and the right hand batsmen to bat left hand.

Play this mockery of a tour in the same spirit.

After all it’s a gentleman’s game.

The world's most popular billionaire

2008-01-04T10:23:00.000+05:30

He has business which is spread across the length and breadth of the globe.

You see him often making appearances on TV, gracing the covers of the glossiest magazines and you also see with equal frequency giving comfort to the underprivileged in the farthest, remotest, neglected corners of the world.

Both rich and poor call him a personal friend with confidence.

Equally comfortable in the rich mansion of Vienna and under the grimy roof of Dharavi.

He can share a drink in the swankiest club or in the dingiest hut.

Secular, non-discriminating, friendly, warm, racially non-prejudiced. Color, caste, creed have no meaning for him.

His name is Cola…Coca Cola.

Beauty

2008-01-03T15:36:00.000+05:30

Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder but I hope there are universal standards for ugly.

Buying Books

2008-01-02T17:09:00.000+05:30

Hushed silence, tentative hands, unsaid promise, cozy quilt, warm tea, the crowded solitude of reading a book.

Bookstores can mean so much when you go to choose your new lover for the next two weeks and hopefully a fond memory for a life time.

For me where I buy my books is as important as the book.

Lots of people rave about this bookstore or that bookstore which has a great collection or books which are littered all across that it is impossible to select a book and so and so forth.

Books are anything but products, they are bought but are definitely not commercial.

The best bookstore in the world is a library. Not only can you feel the respect for the books over there but the silence that pervades over is an integral to the reverence you must feel for the books and the pleasure you feel looking at people quietly sitting, delving, imbibing, travelling, creating, the universe hidden in those little drops of black and white ink.

An ideal bookstore must create the ambience of a library. It must make buying a silent, personal, respectful selection process. As soon as bookstores neglect this basic tenet they lose the respect of the book lover.

Business will not come from the greed of selling but participating in the joy of selection. A reader who finds his new lover and rather than scream at the top of his voice rushes with a deep breath of satisfaction quietly quickly towards the payment counter should mean more to this business.

“Lord! when you sell a man a book you don't sell just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night - there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book.” ~Christopher Morley

It is so sad to find bookstores selling toys to movie CDs to other rubbish along with the books.

Choose your book well but choose your bookstore better.

Remember a bookstore that chooses to sell only books is not only displaying tremendous courage by limiting itself to a shrinking business & respect for the books but also showing respect for you as a reader (& not as a buyer).

Role Reversal

2007-12-28T13:19:00.000+05:30

Life is short. World is round. Be nice.

How do you know you are friends?

2007-12-26T17:44:00.000+05:30

Really how do you decide whether someone is an acquintance or a friend? How do you differentiate?

And how do you know which relationship is a matter of convenience and which of choice?

In my case, I know some people for years but I also know they are not my friends (or rather I am not their friend) even though I meet them regularly and enjoy their company.

So this definitely is not a perfect measure.

And there are people I do not meet very often or know them not for very long but consider them friends.

Time is also not a prerequisite.

I have had 'friends' with whom I have had lots of arguments and fights (and ego was part of sometimes and in some cases I have not spoken to them since but still remember/consider them as friends) but still survived.

So the concept of "no ego" also doesn't work.

It is so easy to introduce someone as a friend but when do you honestly mean it?

And when (and how) do you know someone is your friend?

I wonder and seek answers.

You talkin to me

2007-12-24T15:25:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: This is just a rough draft and initial thoughts.

When was the last time you had a conversation? When the last time you met someone interesting?

Chances are some of you might say, today, yesterday, or maybe some time in the near past.
But did you really have a conversation or there were two or more people talking about themselves - all talking and no one listening.

It has become so difficult to find someone you can talk to, have a discussion, say or listen to meaningful words.

I believe there are many reasons why we cannot have a conversation.

The primary culprit is our inward focus. ‘I’ has become the center of the universe. We are so concerned about our needs and concerns that we do not pay any attention to things around us. And this need is largely materialistic. I for example - and this is also true for lots of people I know and meet - find it so difficult to think of things which are not management. Success is measured in INR or USD or GBP. My role models are people who are richer than me. People no longer listen to others and are not interested in their thoughts. Only words which offer personal gratification are of our interest everything else nothing but white noise.

"Years ago, I tried to top everybody, but I don't anymore, I realized it was killing conversation. When you're always trying for a topper you aren't really listening. It kills communication." - Groucho Marx

The fall out of this is that any ‘irrelevant conversation’ is target of our derision. If we go to a small town (where real conversations still exist) or hear someone from the lower strata of the society discussing politics or talking about the world affairs, we find the whole thing absurd, if not downright hilarious – dude first change your own miserable world before you think about changing the world.

We have become a society of cynics.

Third and the biggest killer of conversation are our limited range and interests. Money, money, money. Management books today probably outsell the more relevant books. We find so difficult to pick up a book that will make us think. Frivolous books, talk shows, reality shows have a wider audience than radical thoughts and ideas.

When was the last time you read about a real issue and if you did, you found someone to share and discuss it?

We indulge in many personal monologues but have no conversation.

Remember words change the world even before action does.

Conversation is about listening,

Conversation is about understanding,

Conversation is about sharing.

To listen well, is as powerful a means ofinfluence as to talk well, and is as essential to all true conversation.

Conversation is about being alive to the world around you.

Last words –

"You want people walking away from the conversation with some kernel of wisdom or some kind of impact." Harry Dean Stanton

Progress needs men - Contd.

2007-12-20T09:42:00.000+05:30

Nobel Laureates

Women - 34

Men - 743

Total No.of women who won Nobel Prize for Science: 12

Last Year in which a woman won Nobel Prize in Chemistry: 1964 (Total 2)

Last Year in which a woman won Nobel Prize in Physics: 1963 (Total 3)

No. of women to win a prize in Economics: 0

Parting thoughts - A couplet from Baba Bulle Shah

Rati jage kare ibadat

rati jagan kute

tethon ute

Phokan band te mool na hunde

Jah rori te sute

Tethon ute

Kasam apne da darr na chhad de

Bhave bajan jute

Tethon ute

Bulleh Shah koi rakh vihaj leh

nahi te baazi leh gai kute

tethon ute

Evolution depends on men

2007-12-19T11:12:00.000+05:30

Now that I have made a habit of making sweeping statements why break the pattern.

So here comes another hare-brained theory.

I believe the reason why men have been at the forefront of most of the inventions and discoveries cannot be attributed just to the simplistic explanation of opportunity.

Most would argue that lack of contribution by women can be attributed to the fact men repressed women and they were always at a disadvantage due to the constraints that the society imposed on them.

There is no denying these facts but the fact also remains these shackles have been more or less negated in the last 50 years and despite this the contribution of women especially in the field of science (or any other field for that matter) is at best miniscule if not negligible.

“Exceptio probat regulam.”

When I say inventions I have in mind products or thoughts which changed the course of a field or changed the paradigms of thinking and living.

Time for the explanation – personal and without any scientific basis.

The way men think is random and without any order. If you have ever watched two men or a group of men having a conversation, it can be quite an irksome experience for any outside observer. The conversation will travel from the inane to the profound. In the same sentence you can find a man quoting Socrates while discussing about the finer points of Angelina Jolie’s legs. The conversation never sticks to a single topic and can range from movies to religion to terrorism to philosophy of Nietzsche to latest office gossip to any other idiotic or ridiculous or reflective theme. And this change of topic is fluid. No man finds anything out of the ordinary when the change happens. It’s normal. It’s natural.

Against this the conversation between women or with a woman is more linear in structure. Discussion is focused and exchange measured. I am not disparaging the quality of the theme; it can be as thoughtful and weighty as it comes. But the conversation never wavers; it does not traverse any heights or depths like a male banter.

So how does this simple comparison prove that men help societies evolve? Is just the conversation?

My dear Watson, conversation is just an analogy for the male mind.

Think of male conversation/mind like dots - what seems random, when connected can sometimes create a masterpiece. The beauty of the male conversation/mind lies in juxtaposing disparate thoughts and subjects next to each other and that opens a realm of possibilities.

Only in chaos you can find order.

Bitch

2007-12-18T12:03:00.000+05:30

There is a concerted effort in the media today debunking the artificial beauty.

And who are these synthetic beauties - the wafer thin models parading down their wares on the ramps, adorning the billboards and generally peering down on us from every shop window.

The rationale for branding this class as non-natural -not unnatural or ethereal but non-natural -
is the fact that they make the everyday woman feel inadequate. They bring psychological and physiological disorders and are proponents of general misery in the majority.

Today every writer worth his ink is championing the cause of the everyday woman – “the real beauty”.

Hmmm… interesting.

Logical.

Maybe yes, maybe not.

But is it possible we decode the above mentioned sentiment in some other manner and stretch the argument in another “irrelevant” direction.

Tiger Woods is not a golfer.

Somerset Maugham is not a writer.

Brendo is not an actor.

Why?

Because the years of dedication, hard work and commitment they put in to perfect their craft, change what is acceptable, set new standards, is nothing but a devious ploy to deride us.

Those bitches and bastards punish their bodies and minds just to humiliate us.

It is not a commitment to their art and craft but a conspiracy against us – “the real people”.

That pain is not real.

It is just a sham.

That reminds me of a conversation that a “real beauty” had with a “synthetic beauty”.

Real Beauty: “You are not real, I am”
Synthetic Beauty: “True. I am a thing of dreams and you an ugly reality.”

Accept the fact you lack the commitment to exercise.

Accept that you cannot resist those delicacies.

Accept the fact you don’t have the resolve to get up every day and burn that fat.

And accept you are fat ugly blob.

Or Celebrate mediocrity.

And this post makes me a writer par excellence, Hemingway is a just a figment of our collective imagination.

P.S: And don’t you write back about eating disorders, bulimia or any such thing. I am not condoning any such acts. It is our hatred towards anything that tries to rise above the average that disgusts me.

Don't cry for me Delhi

2007-12-14T09:48:00.000+05:30

I left Delhi some three years back. And I have some fond memories of the place.

Once in a while I think about shifting back to the place but these bouts of insanity are cured thanks to some timely meeting with a Delhite (when I say Delhite, pls read archtype North Indian).

Lets count the habits which would ensure that I stay away from the place as far as possible. And do I pray for the day when habitation on other planets would be a possibility.

1. The overbearing habit of over-familarity. The first meeting will start from"I have shared your underwear" relationship. Hey, I am meeting you for the first time, we are not lost buddies and lets keep it that way. And i do not share my underwear with anyone in any case.

2. And if best buddy syndrome was not bad enough, god forbid, if the gentleman you are meeting belongs to the same state, or has just transited through the city you belong, that would make him your bonafide relative. Dude, even by the highest ratio of the improbable probability if i had met you earlier, chances are i would have ignored you there also, if not kicked your butt out of the stratosphere.

3. "I am the undisputed lord of the universe". Me lord, you job is at the lowest end of the corporate food chain. My best wishes are with you, but till you become what you are not, I would prefer you behave and stay like a minion that you truly are.

4. They would end professional meetings not with a handshake but with a hug, and if you are not quick in your reflexes, you might get treated witha slobbering kiss also. Stay away from me you sex depraved pervert.

I can probably continue but I really need to go and take a bath.

Om Shanti Om.

3:10 to Yuma

2007-12-13T10:33:00.000+05:30

Fantastic dialogue in the movie...

"A man has to be big enough to realise how small he is"

मेरा अफसाना

2007-12-13T10:31:00.000+05:30

बड़े गौर से सुन रहा था ज़माना

हमी सो गए कहते कहते फ़साना

A thought

2007-12-11T12:33:00.000+05:30

I face two perennial problems.

One I find myself unable to put my thoughts across to others in a cohesive manner, that means most of words that come out of my mouth are jumbled and without structure. Second problem is my failure in retaining some knowledge that I try to garner from books which I have enjoyed.

I really enjoy reading. And I read all kinds of stuff - pulp fiction, business books, comics, graphic novels, non-fiction, anything and everything that catches my fancy.

Ideally I would like to make some of these ideas part of me -words crafted so beautifully, thoughts expressed, connected, organized, weaved as l would never – my thoughts, my ideas, just said so much better.

As someone said once, the knowledge becomes part of you if you say it. Now, if you would remember the first sentence that is a problem – incoherent speech.

One day, I have no idea how; I found the solution to both my tribulations. A single action that would help address both the issues.

Read slowly.

The manner you read, is the manner you think and is the manner you speak.

Read fast, you tend to think fast and that means ideas and words flow in your mind in a supersonic pace, without structure and must come out at the same pace – without logic, without structure – confused audience.

Imagine it like a long chain of unconnected bogies of a train, each following the other and moving at the same pace. Each bogie is a thought which you want to convey to a passenger.

The way this will work is only when the passenger is able to board each bogie and if he misses one, the subsequent bogie cannot be boarded leading to an incomplete journey.

Now since the bogies are unconnected so the one in the front cannot control the next one, if you slow your pace, all the bogies would crash into each other, leading to a carnage of conversation and thoughts.

Ideal solution is to slowdown the pace.

Pace your thoughts and that would automatically pace your speech.

Read slow.

P.S: Can someone corroborate the theory?

Whose life is it anyway?

2007-12-07T16:21:00.000+05:30

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimcry, their passions a quotation." Oscar Wilde

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

what?

Baby Talk

2007-12-04T08:40:00.000+05:30

Last month I was travelling to Delhi with my daughter.

As we were being transferred via the transit bus to our aircraft, the bus came to stop in front of a plane.

Avni is all happy and excited to see the plane.

She looks at the plane, turns to me and says "Dada, look plane nose"

She then again points to the plane and says "Dada, look plane eyes"

After which she gazes at the plane with quizzical expression for some time, turns towards me and asks "Dada, where plane teeth?"

Is the human brain wired to see everything from a single lens or we train it to find a reflection of ourselves in all objects?

I wonder, is this the reason we are so disdainful & inhuman towards anything - animate or inanimate - which is not US?

Binary world

2007-12-04T08:38:00.000+05:30

1 or 0

Parent Trap

2007-10-31T08:50:00.000+05:30

A conversation between me and my little less than 2 year old daughter.

Me (with one finger raised): "Avni, what is this?"

Avni: "One"

Me (two fingers raised): "This?"

Avni: "Two"

Me (three fingers raised): "This?"

Avni: "Three"

Me (four fingers raised): "This?"

Avni: "Four"

Me (open palm): "This?"

Avni: "Hand"

Love Story

2007-10-25T10:30:00.000+05:30

He sat still with a knife on his wrist.

He remembered the dream life, the joyful mornings and the tempestuous nights, the sunny silences and the stormy fights, the loving kiss and the passionate bite. He remembered every moment.

And he remembered the fateful night.

A single tear dropped from his eye.

“If not together in life, we will still meet”

At the first drop of blood I slowly moved towards him.

Sad they will never meet again.

Writer

2007-10-24T15:34:00.001+05:30

“The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say but what we are unable to say”.. Anais Nin

Mr. Death

2007-10-24T14:26:00.000+05:30

He was death.

Mr. Death.

Or that’s how he imagined himself to be.

The snatcher.

The cruel.

The unexpected surprise.

That unwanted guest.

I heard him once.

“Life.

When I was born I was not a beginning of a dream.

I was condemned to a nightmare, waiting to wake up.

What is life?

Nothing but a delusion.

A trick, a cheap trick conjured by an amateur magician.

An illusion.

They say find a reason to live.

They say find purpose.

Hypnotized hoodwinked fools.

I will find them and I will wake them up.

I will find them all.

One by one.

Life does not begin.

It ends.

.”

He stalked the day.

Babies.

Blooming love.

Carefree youth.

Joyous families.

Indulging rich.

Besieged poor .

Life.

He would never know.

He would never understand.

One day I plucked him as gently as everyone else before him.

And everyone after him.

Voice

2007-10-09T10:49:00.000+05:30

Scratch. Scratch.

You can feel something gnawing from inside.

Feeling of restlessness.

You want to say something.

But no words come out.

Mind seeks meaning.

Body seeks redemption.

Empty world.

Shallow soul.

Meaningless life.

I was not meant to be this way.

This is not me.

I see a stranger everyday in the mirror with a familiar face.

Sell soap.

Pander beauty.

Where are the lost causes?

Unheard screams?

I must.

I would.

I will find my voice once again.

Octoberfest 2007

2007-10-08T13:36:00.000+05:30

Ah, the pleasures and the perils of drinking.

I finally know how much beer this alcohol worn body can still take.

It is 330 ml x 20 glasses.

I plan to break this record next year without falling on my face (unlike this year).

P.S: Make it part of your calendar next year. Any reason is fine...beer, music, women

I Know

2007-10-03T11:48:00.000+05:30

Nature exits.

So do artists.

Nature.

God.

No reason asked, no reason given.

Sourabh, Sudip and Venkat - Thank you.

I was there

2007-10-03T11:43:00.000+05:30

I was maybe a blink on the TRP of Zee Saragama but I was there.

I heard Anik, Raja, Poonam and Amanat perform on the same stage.

I will never say anything better on my blog.

Intelligence

2007-09-25T09:27:00.000+05:30

Never mistake intelligence and juxtaposing your opinion of what is intelligent as same things.

One is a fact, other just an assumption.

Mr. Richards

2007-09-19T11:07:00.000+05:30

I don't know how many of you have seen this ad and i don't remember the product except that it is for some bike model from Hero Honda.

The ad shows this guy rejecting the job offer from some Mr. Richards.

While watching this ad I wished he had accepted the offer.

You need to watch the disdain and the non-chalance with which he tears the letter and just throws the litter on the street and zooms away and you can still see the little pieces of paper getting scattered around (probably screaming it's not our fault, please throw us in the dustbin)

It would be good to get rid of junk like that from the country.

Black & White

2007-09-19T11:03:00.000+05:30

Just wondering, black and white is supposedly a classic combination.

In sartorial sense, when you see a white guy dresssed in black he looks pretty neat but how come the reverse is not true.

Nothing is more hideous to see a dark indian dressed in surf washed white clothes.

I wonder.

Young men and Old boys

2007-09-11T13:46:00.000+05:30

Men in their 30, 40 today behave, dress, think like teenagers. And feel proud of the fact.

It is an interesting phenomenon and requires some introspection.

I am going to suggest one theory, see if you find it interesting.

For any behaviour to become permanent it requires time. Only when your mind is in a steady state it becomes stable and is longer transient.

Till a decade back, couple of years here and there, men never had this stable state. Babies, then it was school time, then the pressure of college, immediately after college the struggle for a job, as soon as job was secured, it was marriage time, and within a year one had babies, then the babies turned young, struggle for their school, education, then career, marriage and before they realised they were grandfathers and a couple of years (again ignoring some years here and there) they were dead.

See the cycle again, no phase lasted longer than 3-4 years.

Against that today, there is a long gap after job before men move to the next challenge of life, and mind you I'm not talking about marriage.

They for a long time stay in the young,independent,financially stable, no responsibilty, hedonistic state of mind - The boy mindset.

The changed social mores have ensured that society will spiral down to more juvenile and frivolous mindset. This also means society would lose serious and mature thinkers, people who can help the world improve and evolve.

Naughtier minds, dangerous toys.

So yea old boy, drop that playstation, now don't pick up that bazooka either, it's time to grow up.

Gangaram

2007-09-07T14:49:00.000+05:30

It happened such a long time back.

Like yesterday.

Gangaram wanted to die. He had lived once.

When Gangaram was young he had only one dream, to be a soldier.

He was born poor and was an orphan.

Rejected by his parents at birth.

It would have been so easy for him to embrace me. When nobody wanted him, I was there for him.

But he fought me from the beginning.

He hurt my ego.

Maybe to be a soldier was his destiny.

Gangaram, the foot soldier.

First in the line.

Challenging me, mocking me.

So close, still so far.

Always just beyond my reach.

It was not the time. I knew I will have him one day but never on that day.

He was never afraid of me.

Then a strange thing happened. We became friends.

We started riding together.

Other soldiers wanted to stand next to him on the battleground, he always came back.

He had new friends.

He was popular.

He was somebody.

He thought he was living.

But now he was scared of me.

I who was so close to him, his first enemy, his first friend.

This time he did not fight me.

He rejected me.

He had hurt me again.

Then one day fate dealt a cruel blow.

His lost his fighting arm.

His reason, his identity, his life.

If I was there I would have made it easier for him.

Soldiers want to die as soldiers.

He called me, he begged me.

Today he wanted me.

I refused to oblige the old friend.

Everyone doesn’t hope to live.

Some hope to die.

Gangaram. The proud Gangaram.

The soldier, now an object of pity.

I am cruel.

I am proud.

I wanted my revenge.

My revenge was to let him live.

We were again there from where we started.

We fought again and this time I won.

I waited till there was no life left in him.

I didn’t kill him, I killed his spirit.

He was born unwanted and he died unwanted.

The lonely flower

2007-09-07T14:47:00.000+05:30

Flowers are not an entity but a concept.

An idea that transcends reality.

Flowers are a manifestation of what is normally hidden from us by nature.

They are the touch of lovers, they are lost memories, they are the joy of a child, they are the ecstasy of meeting & the sadness of leaving, and they are hope, desire, success, faith, love.

They give meaning to life and they are the meaning of life.

No one knows how he came into being in middle of nowhere.

But he was there resplendent in his colors.

Full of life, sure of his destiny.

But he was lonely.

He still wasn’t a flower.

He desired to be a flower and its meaning.

Desire is life’s biggest folly and strongest ally.

Days passed, weeks passed.

He knew he didn’t have much time.

He could sense me, feel me waiting patiently.

He would push himself a little higher, blush a little stronger.

Not yet, he would say.

One day he could see them.

The little brother and sister, jumping all over, playing while their father stood in a corner looking at them with indulgent eyes.

But he was too far away. They could not see him.

He tried to push himself from behind the stones.

Then they saw him and together ran towards him.

And together gleefully they blew away his drying petals.

He smiled and came in my arms.

Sometimes you live your life in a moment.

Spent

2007-08-28T10:01:00.000+05:30

I read a book yesterday, and I am still trying to understand why does that book exist.

The book in question is Spent by Joe Matt, technically it falls under the category of a Graphic novel or sequential art or illustrated novel or a comic (whichever term you are comfortable with).

But for me it is none of above, true it has panels, there are characters, dialogues everything but the question that still begs to be answered is why?

It is not a unsatisfying book either, it was fun to read, it had its poignancy, witty conversations, character definitions, everything that a conventional book should have but the question still remains why?

So many whys?

Let me explain the plot in brief so that you can understand my confusion better and hopefully as I write it I would be able to fathom its rationale and its raison-d-etre (i hope I spelled it right).

The book is about the author's obsessive-compulsive behaviour and the twelve years he spent in Canada as an illegal resident there.

These are just some facts, the book does not delve on all of these facts.

It is primarily about the author and his personality. It starts from no where (actually in a book store where author is with one of his friends and he discovers one of the comic books that his friend is fond of and he buys the only copy available to infuriate him) and is focused on the author's addiction to pornographic movies and masturbation.

Joe Matt has projected himself as a loner due to his unnatural addiction,unable to find a steady girlfriend (he made his last one leave to pursue his self-afflicted carnal pleasures). He spends most of the time editing porn movies to have the purest collection of the best scenes and the best basest women. He is the miser to the extent of not eating food,staying in a sub-human dingy accomodation, he is a socio-path to the extent that he keeps jars to pee in his room, so that he doesn't have to meet his landlady or other inhabitants in the paid accomodation (they share a common loo). He does this despite being decently off. He refuses to spend any money, tries to fleece his friends and has only two pre-occupations, thinking about sex and money.He is so very addicted to these that he even compromises his career (as a graphic novelist) and has not done anything for years (he apparently spent lots of years on this book, which could have been possible in months).

Nothing wrong, these all can be and are interesting premises to create an interesting story (which he has).

So why I am perplexed or disturbed by this book?

What I am unable to fathom is the extent to which the author willing to depreciate himself in the public eye. He is not ashamed to embarass himself and lay bare his darkest thoughts. He is willing to show (it's a graphic novel) his sexual organs, the way he masturbates, his selfish focus on himself and his needs.

All laid bare for public ridicule.

This humilation is so dark, so stark, that the fact suddenly seems fictional.

Is it real or an alternate fiction diguised as a biography?

I wonder and I reel.

I will clean the puke from my carpet in the evening.

Passion

2007-08-27T13:33:00.000+05:30

Passion.

Such a commonly used word.

Passion for life.

Passion in life.

Do things passionately.

He is such a passionate worker.

Passionate lover.

Passionate spectator.

Fact is, despite its liberal usage, passion probably is the hardest to define, forget practice.

Passion is a commitment.

It gives meaning to life and is the meaning of life.

It's not about doing something or anything well. It is also not even about enjoying something.

It is loving it, loving it more than anything else in life.

People generally say the word passion, while actually mean desire.

Desire is a thought, empty, meaningless, an end without beginning.

People seek life and look outwards for it. At friends, icons, symbols, they project others life, their world, their reality their passion unto themselves.

Another fallacy which is associated with passion is success. Success defines passion.

Success is external.

Passion is I, within & without.

It can be enjoyed with many but shared with none.

Seek passion, revel in passion, wallow in passion, burn yourself.

So what is passion?

It is nothing or everything. Because it is you.

And the day you find yourself, (to paraphrase a friend) you will leave your footprints on the sands of time.

FAHRENHEIT 451

2007-08-21T16:11:00.000+05:30

If you want a commentary on modern life, there might be no superior book than FAHRENHEIT 451.

Extract from the book-

"We know how to nip most of them in the bud, early. You can't build a house without nails and wood. If you don't want a house built, hide the nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top heavy, and tax mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of non? combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely. I know, I've tried it; to hell with it. So bring on your clubs and parties, your acrobats and magicians, your dare-devils, jet cars, motor cycle helicopters, your sex and heroin, more of everything to do with automatic reflex. If the drama is bad, if the film says nothing, if the play is hollow, sting me with the theremin, loudly. I'll think I'm responding to the play, when it's only a tactile reaction to vibration. But I don't care. I just like solid entertainment."

Tragic but true. In our hearts we always suspected that we lead a shallow life but the book makes us aware of the abysmal depths we have plunged to.

I am less Indian

2007-08-17T14:25:00.000+05:30

Indians in company of foreigners try to emphasize only on one point that they are more like them than the uncouth,uncultured Indians.

Yes I am an Indian but I am less Indian.

Can we stoop any lower?

Sanjay Dutt

2007-08-02T13:21:00.001+05:30

For the last two days there is debate on every news channel whether the court verdict on Sanjay Dutt is fair.

Let me say in the beginning that I belong to the group that belives he should have been freed and my opinion is biased since I have been his fan for the last 20 years.

I have two rationale for believing this-

Rationale 1: The purpose of law is not to punish the individual but the act. This means either there should be an action of malice or an intent of malice.

Now it is easy to say that how can one prove whether an action would or would not lead to the wrongdoing (in this case Sanjay Dutt possessing the gun).

In normal circumstances (with common citizens) it might be difficult to differentiate but with a celebrity, whose every action has been in public eye for the last 48 years, it is easier to establish the intent.

Also unlike Salman "Black Buck" Khan where the illegal activity actually caused harm, there is no reason to believe that it would have led to any action.

The history of entertainment from Sinatara to Sanjay is full of such stupid follies.

I firmly believe that the very foundation of justice has been ignored through this judgement.

Rationale 2: There should be different laws for such entertainers. As simple as that.

I apologise if I have offended anyone.

The civil civil-servant

2007-07-06T14:52:00.000+05:30

I was talking to a Gentleman who was a government employee sometime back and now works for the same organization where I am employed.

This esteemed ex-civil-servant was ruing the day he decided to quit the govt. job to join a private entity and how humiliating it has been for him to work since then.

He continued in the same breath, that when he was with the govt. how he could make people wait or not meet them at all for no rhyme or reason. Also either those guys followed (rather obeyed) what he said else they were just thrown.

The first thought that came to my mind was “Good For You”.

But not really, he has only changed the job, not the attitude.

Some people the more they change, the more they remain the same.

Affluent Effluence

2007-06-29T17:16:00.000+05:30

Have you ever thought about the economic boom and its implications?

To a majority of people who would read this, robust economy would only have a personal meaning - fatter pay packets, more job opportunities, dream about bigger car, next house, next vacation and spending couple of thousands over drinks every week without guilt.

But this individual relation and personalization of the unprecedented growth has a darker side to it, a much darker side.

We all are familiar with the 80/20 rule, which means that the economy grows due to the contribution of 20% of the people as these 20% people consume 80% of the goods. This can be translated in another manner growing economy makes only 20% people richer and leaves the balance 80% people on the fringes and with time poorer.

Why? When the income levels go up the sensitivity towards prices come down and the companies are able to increase prices without losing sales, these include basic necessities.

So child born in the lower middle class will never know the taste of apple, never lick an ice-cream and maybe with time also learn to eat a little less.

No growth in that sense can be exclusive or should be so damn insensitive & one sided. Growth has to be defined by the society, emanate from the needs of the society and not dictated by greed and self preservation.

The growth paeans that we are singing today are nothing but tomfoolery. This growth is meaningless and unsustainable in the larger picture. When I am asking for twenty or thirty or forty lakh salary for selling something which is as superfluous as a soap or a cola or aero-grip high traction aerospace soled shoes, I am also telling someone please go hungry.

Is this the meaning of growth?

You tell me and you tell yourself when that 6 year old little girl gets your scotch glass.

Someone

2007-06-26T10:53:00.000+05:30

Someone knocked.
Someone knocked down.

Someone was waiting.
Someone came calling.

Someone was ready.
Someone was dressed.

Someone was nothing.
Someone was everything.

Someone said everything.
Someone heard nothing.

Someone was living.
Someone was alive.

Someone hoped.
Someone was hope.

Someone wanted nothing.
Someone gave nothing.

Someone was I.
Someone was you.