Hello Daddy

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

blog has moved to

www.truefictitioustruth.wordpress.com

lets meet there.

Jab haat marna bada marna...

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

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

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?

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

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...

Design

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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???

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

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-

1. 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).
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. 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.
6. Her amazing optimism and zest for life has rubbed on my head in the sand pessimism.
7. 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.
8. I have a better career because of her, she encouraged me to change, take risks - do whatever I wanted.
9. 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.
10. 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

Manoj

Sudip

Kundan

Anupama