Tuesday, December 02, 2008
The Mum-bay
Over the last few days, much has been said and written. The Mumbai topic was on the top of a lot of people's minds. A nation of over a billion people felt united through the common thread of emotions and reactions. Some of them who had the gift of the gab (http://shobhaade.blogspot.com/)were able to reverberate aptly what most of the nation felt and even managed to provoke thoughts and inspire some positive reactions.I, like a lot of others, was a mute and helpless spectator. A lot can be corrected, repaired, rebuilt and recovered. But for all those people who lost someone they knew and cared for, the loss is irreversible. For all of them, mum's the word.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Un Dino
A friend of mine talked me into this paper writing competition for a Project Management conference at work. As with everything at the start, I got into it very enthusiastically and chalked out an impressive plan for this paper writing. I checked out some of the relevant books from the library, planned out what all I would do to make this paper almost Nobel-prize worthy if nothing more! After all that initial hype, I got myself busy with work, play and all the other regular stuff and the paper writing didn’t figure in my list of things to do till the very last day! On the day of submission, I realized all I had really done towards the paper writing was repeatedly renew the library books which I had checked out without even reading one page of it! In the guilt and shame, I decided to not even attempt to write the paper. But then when my colleague said ‘Hey…your abstract got selected…how can you not attempt to submit something’ I just couldn’t give up the challenge.
I started writing the paper in the n+1th hour! Once I got into the mission critical task, there was no time for anything. There was no time for cooking, working, gym, phone calls, TV, friends…nothing! That one day, was solely dedicated to paper writing…and I decided to do a ‘night-out’ for the sake of the paper. I sat up till 4am trying to make progress. My brain was working at 25% capacity so was dead slow (if it hadn’t stopped altogether)! I don’t know why I thought I could listen to music and work at the same time! I enjoyed the music looked up the lyrics, kinda even learnt some of them up! As expected, a 25% multitasking brain, couldn’t have been very efficient! At 4am, I had 1 page written of the 6 pages I intended writing for the paper! And the content didn’t impress me. I was too bored to even review what I myself had written!
Anyway, all of this self-inflicted torture, reminded me of Un Dino...days at school and college. At school, I was reasonably ok. More or less was prepared for tests and exams. But still there were times, the evening before the exam, I would realize that I was totally unprepared. Then in all the panic, and for lack of a better strategy, I would take a decision of going off to bed at 8pm so that I could wake up at 2 or 3am to study. Waking up that early had some incentives! Mom would make me some steaming hot coffee and even get me some goodies to eat. (It is incredible that 20 years later, I remember, so vividly, the food aspect of the early morning study sessions!) After getting me all that, she would sit next to me awhile, to make sure I wasn’t dropping off to sleep and then she would herself nod off. More often than not, when she woke up at 6 or so, I would be panicking and crying about failing in the exam…because I would feel just as blank as I was the evening before! This happened a good number of times at school…even though I would keep promising myself that the next time around, I would be better prepared. Luckily, got out of school without any major fiascos!
After all the struggle in school, high school and the entrance exams, once I entered engineering college, I think I must have told myself ‘Yep, you have arrived. Now you can stop caring about marks and exams…just make it through these 4 years somehow, and life’s set’. All through the 4 years, I don’t remember studying AT ALL. The fretting before the exams happened…there was no change in that. All of us roomies would be up late in the night, trying to look up previous years question papers and prepare some 4 or 5 questions and leaving the rest to the all knowing benevolent almighty! During the exam month, the hostel used to be alive at 2am. Am sure, Un Dino, the canteen within the hostel increased the supply of Maggi to meet the increased demands of the nocturnal beings. In spite of the casual attitude got out of college with a degree and a job!
The situation in post graduation wasn’t very different. Well, how could it be! It was the same me...adding up a few years to my age didn’t necessarily mean adding up more goodness into me! The same struggle continued in the mornings of the exams during MBA. At times, all the studying for the exam happened in the 20 minute rickety auto ride to the institute! Seriously, isn’t it astounding, that I couldn’t find 20 calm minutes the evening before? Well, I never found it all my life, so I don’t expect today or tomorrow to be any different.
The irony of it all is the fact that, today, my primary responsibility at work as a project analyst is planning and scheduling for programs and products spanning across 2-4 years!
I started writing the paper in the n+1th hour! Once I got into the mission critical task, there was no time for anything. There was no time for cooking, working, gym, phone calls, TV, friends…nothing! That one day, was solely dedicated to paper writing…and I decided to do a ‘night-out’ for the sake of the paper. I sat up till 4am trying to make progress. My brain was working at 25% capacity so was dead slow (if it hadn’t stopped altogether)! I don’t know why I thought I could listen to music and work at the same time! I enjoyed the music looked up the lyrics, kinda even learnt some of them up! As expected, a 25% multitasking brain, couldn’t have been very efficient! At 4am, I had 1 page written of the 6 pages I intended writing for the paper! And the content didn’t impress me. I was too bored to even review what I myself had written!
Anyway, all of this self-inflicted torture, reminded me of Un Dino...days at school and college. At school, I was reasonably ok. More or less was prepared for tests and exams. But still there were times, the evening before the exam, I would realize that I was totally unprepared. Then in all the panic, and for lack of a better strategy, I would take a decision of going off to bed at 8pm so that I could wake up at 2 or 3am to study. Waking up that early had some incentives! Mom would make me some steaming hot coffee and even get me some goodies to eat. (It is incredible that 20 years later, I remember, so vividly, the food aspect of the early morning study sessions!) After getting me all that, she would sit next to me awhile, to make sure I wasn’t dropping off to sleep and then she would herself nod off. More often than not, when she woke up at 6 or so, I would be panicking and crying about failing in the exam…because I would feel just as blank as I was the evening before! This happened a good number of times at school…even though I would keep promising myself that the next time around, I would be better prepared. Luckily, got out of school without any major fiascos!
After all the struggle in school, high school and the entrance exams, once I entered engineering college, I think I must have told myself ‘Yep, you have arrived. Now you can stop caring about marks and exams…just make it through these 4 years somehow, and life’s set’. All through the 4 years, I don’t remember studying AT ALL. The fretting before the exams happened…there was no change in that. All of us roomies would be up late in the night, trying to look up previous years question papers and prepare some 4 or 5 questions and leaving the rest to the all knowing benevolent almighty! During the exam month, the hostel used to be alive at 2am. Am sure, Un Dino, the canteen within the hostel increased the supply of Maggi to meet the increased demands of the nocturnal beings. In spite of the casual attitude got out of college with a degree and a job!
The situation in post graduation wasn’t very different. Well, how could it be! It was the same me...adding up a few years to my age didn’t necessarily mean adding up more goodness into me! The same struggle continued in the mornings of the exams during MBA. At times, all the studying for the exam happened in the 20 minute rickety auto ride to the institute! Seriously, isn’t it astounding, that I couldn’t find 20 calm minutes the evening before? Well, I never found it all my life, so I don’t expect today or tomorrow to be any different.
The irony of it all is the fact that, today, my primary responsibility at work as a project analyst is planning and scheduling for programs and products spanning across 2-4 years!
Monday, July 07, 2008
The best of tennis!
They are calling yesterday's Wimbledon final between Nadal and Federer the 'Greatest match ever'...and rightly so. We got to see two players who seemed to have perfected the skill of playing tennis! They seem to have tuned not only their bodies but their minds too for a perfect game of tennis. Who wanted the cup more, is debatable....but we can be sure that for both of them, in the moments when the match and the cup tilted in the others favor, it would have been very tough to not feel an ounce of desperation and focus on just giving back a perfect and sensational shot!
Read this about Federer's demeanor in some article, which I thought perfectly described him 'With the casual aplomb of a gentleman pouring a glass of wine...'!
I absolutely loved Federer's calmness during the match. He almost reminded me of Arjun (ya ya, from the Mahabharata...:) who could see the ball and nothing else. It din't matter...if the match was almost going to Nadal..or whether it was just a point in the starting game of a set. He wasn't unnerved EVER. He seemed totally detatched from any emotion whatsoever! I wonder how they do that! I was a bunch of nerves, just watching the match. :-) To me, the way he spoke at the award ceremony was almost an epitome of sportsmanship spirit. He made no bones about the fact that he was disappointed but at the same time, totally accepted that Nadal was just a better player yesterday. And no...he hasn't given up...he finished his little interview with 'I'll be back on this court next year to win' :)
This line about Nadal was so true about the perfection with which he played yesterday 'But then, that's the story of Nadal. He always makes you hit one more shot than you want to'. That was just how the way it was yesterday. You would think the point is gone to Federer and Nadal was just reach out miraculously and hit the ball and even make it land in the right place! Though his serves and aces were nothing compared to Federer's, Nadal was just able to play better yesterday. More of his shots landed where they were supposed to. He made fewer unforced errors...and he really deserved to win yesterday. It was interesting watching an emotional Nadal climbing up to the spectator stand to share the moment with his family and then walking on the roof to acknowledge the members of the royalty! Someone commented 'Leave it to Nadal to take the most difficult route' :D
All in all, it was the best of tennis! :)
Read this about Federer's demeanor in some article, which I thought perfectly described him 'With the casual aplomb of a gentleman pouring a glass of wine...'!
I absolutely loved Federer's calmness during the match. He almost reminded me of Arjun (ya ya, from the Mahabharata...:) who could see the ball and nothing else. It din't matter...if the match was almost going to Nadal..or whether it was just a point in the starting game of a set. He wasn't unnerved EVER. He seemed totally detatched from any emotion whatsoever! I wonder how they do that! I was a bunch of nerves, just watching the match. :-) To me, the way he spoke at the award ceremony was almost an epitome of sportsmanship spirit. He made no bones about the fact that he was disappointed but at the same time, totally accepted that Nadal was just a better player yesterday. And no...he hasn't given up...he finished his little interview with 'I'll be back on this court next year to win' :)
This line about Nadal was so true about the perfection with which he played yesterday 'But then, that's the story of Nadal. He always makes you hit one more shot than you want to'. That was just how the way it was yesterday. You would think the point is gone to Federer and Nadal was just reach out miraculously and hit the ball and even make it land in the right place! Though his serves and aces were nothing compared to Federer's, Nadal was just able to play better yesterday. More of his shots landed where they were supposed to. He made fewer unforced errors...and he really deserved to win yesterday. It was interesting watching an emotional Nadal climbing up to the spectator stand to share the moment with his family and then walking on the roof to acknowledge the members of the royalty! Someone commented 'Leave it to Nadal to take the most difficult route' :D
All in all, it was the best of tennis! :)
Monday, June 09, 2008
A veiled vision
I sat in the lobby of a beach resort in Penang, observing people. Some of them were checking-in/out and some of them were returning from the beach or the pool. There were very few business travelers. Most of them were there on a holiday, it was obvious. There were people from all over and I sat there using one of my favorite techniques of killing time-watching people and wondering about their lives and history! Some of them were on a honeymoon and there was the ‘did-I-get-married-to-the-right-person?’ look on some of their faces. I wondered if at the end of the trip, the apparent tension would vanish and they would go back to live happily ever after. And there were some who seemed blissfully happy and thoroughly enjoying the time off with their families and friends.
But in this session, what hijacked most of my thoughts were not people whose faces I tried to read…but those that, I couldn’t read. Couldn’t read..not because they had expressionless faces…because their faces were covered in burqas. It struck me, that these women, couldn’t use their facial expressions to emote. They would have to express anger or displeasure at say, the hotel staff either with strong words, bang of a fist or through their partners! Well, this is definitely not the biggest inconvenience a burqa clad woman faces, am sure…just that it was something that struck me only now. Maybe they are different people than what their friends and families know them as, because of a lot of the body language being hidden under the burqa. And then, of course the more obvious thought grazed by…they were here having flown miles and miles away from home, at a beautiful beach,all covered up…just watching their husbands and kids splash around in water…Were they smiling underneath? Did they really feel the warm sun and crisp sea breeze from under that burqa? Did they want to let out the child in them and scream excitedly in the water…go jet skiing or parasailing? Did they feel that it was all worth the while…flying half way across the globe? I wondered on…what more were they missing out on because of the piece of cloth on them? The good part is that a lot of them are probably not even aware of what they are missing out on…simply because the thought or desire to do this and that, doesn’t even occur to them.
I recently finished reading ‘Sold’. ‘Sold’ is the true story of Zana Muhsen and her sister who were born and brought up in the UK and were forcibly sold as brides to grooms in Yemen. Their father sells them off to his friends and sends them to Yemen at the pretext of a holiday. The young girls who were used to the british upbringing till they were about 15 find it very hard to cope with the life that Yemenis women are expected to lead. The ironical part of the whole thing is that, as time goes by (Zana finally manages to escape after 8 years) these free thinking girls feel very insecure without their burqas and don them even if they aren’t forced into them.
At the end of it all, I realised, maybe the burqa doesn't bother them at all...but I decided to value my freedom a little more…and went for a jog by the beach! :)
But in this session, what hijacked most of my thoughts were not people whose faces I tried to read…but those that, I couldn’t read. Couldn’t read..not because they had expressionless faces…because their faces were covered in burqas. It struck me, that these women, couldn’t use their facial expressions to emote. They would have to express anger or displeasure at say, the hotel staff either with strong words, bang of a fist or through their partners! Well, this is definitely not the biggest inconvenience a burqa clad woman faces, am sure…just that it was something that struck me only now. Maybe they are different people than what their friends and families know them as, because of a lot of the body language being hidden under the burqa. And then, of course the more obvious thought grazed by…they were here having flown miles and miles away from home, at a beautiful beach,all covered up…just watching their husbands and kids splash around in water…Were they smiling underneath? Did they really feel the warm sun and crisp sea breeze from under that burqa? Did they want to let out the child in them and scream excitedly in the water…go jet skiing or parasailing? Did they feel that it was all worth the while…flying half way across the globe? I wondered on…what more were they missing out on because of the piece of cloth on them? The good part is that a lot of them are probably not even aware of what they are missing out on…simply because the thought or desire to do this and that, doesn’t even occur to them.
I recently finished reading ‘Sold’. ‘Sold’ is the true story of Zana Muhsen and her sister who were born and brought up in the UK and were forcibly sold as brides to grooms in Yemen. Their father sells them off to his friends and sends them to Yemen at the pretext of a holiday. The young girls who were used to the british upbringing till they were about 15 find it very hard to cope with the life that Yemenis women are expected to lead. The ironical part of the whole thing is that, as time goes by (Zana finally manages to escape after 8 years) these free thinking girls feel very insecure without their burqas and don them even if they aren’t forced into them.
At the end of it all, I realised, maybe the burqa doesn't bother them at all...but I decided to value my freedom a little more…and went for a jog by the beach! :)
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
The Reluctant Fundamentalist
Mohsin Hamid's second book, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, has gotten rave reviews, won a lot of awards and even been nominated for the 2007 Man Booker prize. There are a lot of reviews and opinions online and I don't really want to repeat and reinforce what has already been said and take up some more bytes in the virtual space. I want to put forth some thoughts about the protagonist, Changez.
The story of Changez and his move from Pakistan to US and back is narrated in this book as a monologue. Changez meets an American visiting Lahore and ends up telling him the story of his life, the impact the 9/11 attack had on him and how it eventually lead him to come back to his country. Even as Changez started his narration, I immediately connected with him at some level. His aspirations of going to a good university and coming out with a nice job felt so much like how I and most of my friends thought and felt in our late teens. Once you connect with the person on some of the very important aspects of life, you tend to think of him/her as someone very much like you. You unknowingly settle down, lower your guard and get comfortable and open-minded. I was in that frame of mind, totally unsuspecting when I reached the part about the 9/11 attack. Changez heard about the attacks like many of us did...turned on the TV and saw the early unedited reports trickling in. He saw the chaos and the confusion, just like many of us did. I felt deceived when he spoke of his reaction. He smiled! He felt a certain pleasure at the symbolism of it all...of the fact that someone had brought America to its knees. From my understanding of human psyche, I am not able to fathom how someone (sane, like Changez) could smile watching something like that. That's just inhuman. I can understand hard core criminals, hardened soldiers not flinch at the sight of a thousand people being killed. I can understand a religious fanatic feel nice about something like this. Changez was just a normal citizen of Pakistan. If the intent of the book was to portray how civilians of impacted Muslim countries have come to feel this way, then his narration wasn't compelling enough. I for one, haven't got any better understanding of his people, his country's perspective than what I started off with.
The protagonist is a 22 year old. Some might argue that his thoughts and actions at times reflect some immaturity and in-experience.In my opinion, some things are very inborn. One doesn't need to have grey hair to be able to see that the opinion and decisions taken by the head of the country might not necessarily be in-line with a citizen of that country. Changez's mentor, Jim,in the company he works for is a true friend and guide. In some situations, Jim goes out of his way for Changez's sake and entrusts the firms reputation and a lot of responsibility on Changez. During one such assignment, Changez figures himself out, and decides that he truly belongs back home, in Pakistan and not there in the US. Once this realization dawns on him, he drops the task in hand and puts Jim's position and the firms reputation in jeopardy and walks out. His inability to shield a true friend and supporter from the impact of his decision surprised me. In my opinion, his priorities are to the people who loved and cared for him. There's no rule that one must return all the good that one has received...but there definitely is an expectation. Changez fell short of my expectations.
The story of Changez and his move from Pakistan to US and back is narrated in this book as a monologue. Changez meets an American visiting Lahore and ends up telling him the story of his life, the impact the 9/11 attack had on him and how it eventually lead him to come back to his country. Even as Changez started his narration, I immediately connected with him at some level. His aspirations of going to a good university and coming out with a nice job felt so much like how I and most of my friends thought and felt in our late teens. Once you connect with the person on some of the very important aspects of life, you tend to think of him/her as someone very much like you. You unknowingly settle down, lower your guard and get comfortable and open-minded. I was in that frame of mind, totally unsuspecting when I reached the part about the 9/11 attack. Changez heard about the attacks like many of us did...turned on the TV and saw the early unedited reports trickling in. He saw the chaos and the confusion, just like many of us did. I felt deceived when he spoke of his reaction. He smiled! He felt a certain pleasure at the symbolism of it all...of the fact that someone had brought America to its knees. From my understanding of human psyche, I am not able to fathom how someone (sane, like Changez) could smile watching something like that. That's just inhuman. I can understand hard core criminals, hardened soldiers not flinch at the sight of a thousand people being killed. I can understand a religious fanatic feel nice about something like this. Changez was just a normal citizen of Pakistan. If the intent of the book was to portray how civilians of impacted Muslim countries have come to feel this way, then his narration wasn't compelling enough. I for one, haven't got any better understanding of his people, his country's perspective than what I started off with.
The protagonist is a 22 year old. Some might argue that his thoughts and actions at times reflect some immaturity and in-experience.In my opinion, some things are very inborn. One doesn't need to have grey hair to be able to see that the opinion and decisions taken by the head of the country might not necessarily be in-line with a citizen of that country. Changez's mentor, Jim,in the company he works for is a true friend and guide. In some situations, Jim goes out of his way for Changez's sake and entrusts the firms reputation and a lot of responsibility on Changez. During one such assignment, Changez figures himself out, and decides that he truly belongs back home, in Pakistan and not there in the US. Once this realization dawns on him, he drops the task in hand and puts Jim's position and the firms reputation in jeopardy and walks out. His inability to shield a true friend and supporter from the impact of his decision surprised me. In my opinion, his priorities are to the people who loved and cared for him. There's no rule that one must return all the good that one has received...but there definitely is an expectation. Changez fell short of my expectations.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
An idea worth spreading...
http://radar.oreilly.com/archives/2008/03/jill-bolte-taylors-amazing-ted.html
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Scuba Diving
In Dec 2007 I dived in the bay of Bengal very near Havelock island, a small island among the group of islands comprising Andaman and nicobar Islands. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life! The only reasons I went diving was cause it was listed among ‘activities’ in the resort website and almost anyone I spoke to about my trip to Andaman said ‘Oh, you should try diving’. I hadn’t thought too much about it before getting to Andaman and din’t really know what to expect, other than the seemingly simple act of going under water and seeing some fish and under water life. I had the impression that you just get fitted with some gear that will make everything very simple and you will be lowered into water and will be shown everything. It was only when I put on all the gear and got off the boat did I actually realize what I was getting into and most of the excitement changed into fear and I looked around sheepishly and said ‘Ah ha…this is what it is all about. You guys go ahead…keep the 4.5k that you are charging me for this…just spare me’ :D I was so much reminded of my bungee jump a couple of years back. I let the crane like thing take me all the way up, 60ft high…looked around and thought to myself ‘Wow…Bangalore is so green..has lakes…is so beautiful’ and then told the instructor ‘Thank you very much, very beautiful! You must be crazy to think that I’ll jump! Now will you please lower me down to ground...and please oh please, keep the money I paid…I won’t ask for it just cause I din’t jump!’. The look on the bungee instructor’s face and the PADI certified scuba instructor was very similar. Something which said ‘ya..seen a lot of your kind…we deal with the likes of you everyday…now just jump/dive…’. But after the fact, I am so glad I jumped and dived. I don’t know if I’ll ever do another bungee jump again, but I’ll never miss another opportunity to go scuba diving!
Our instructor was a british man named Jez. He so much loved Havelock and diving there (when he came for a trip to India) that he decided to relocate from London to Havelock and became an instructor there with Barefoot resort. He is very proficient and had a lot of patience. If it wasn’t for him, I would have actually just given up just after trying out the gear and getting a hang of it. He started with a very detailed explanation of what was involved in the whole process. Theoretically he explained what happens to the body when you go under water most of which I remembered studying in Physics in class 6/7. It felt weird….when you learn about these things as a kid….its just something in the book…some logic. Though you understand all the logic, I remember reading about it very indifferently. But here I was neck deep in water, trying to put into my head, that a few meters of water above your head could actually kill me if I wasn’t careful!The fact that all the logic and science could actually happen on your body is so unbelievable.
We dived at elephant beach which is about 40 minutes by boat from Beach no.3 in Havelock. Once you get there, Jez helps you with all the equipment and then lets you try out all the hand signals and tricks and tips that he spoke about. As I did that, I got this totally claustrophobic feeling under water. I thought I would never get used to the weird feeling of breathing in and out through the mouth. The 1st few times, I just couldn't breathe in through the mouth. After a couple of attempts I got ok with that. Then the mask was a problem. It was a little too big for me so water kept entering my mask. ‘What’s the big deal’ you might think. But water right in front of your nose kinda gives you a very scary ‘am drowning’ kinda feel. Well, it probably won’t for people who are really comfortable with water. But I am a little paranoid and tend to over imagine! :D Jez seemed to know just what to do with me. Even as I was struggling to get used with all this, he just started pointing out some lovely shoals of fish near the shore. The sight of these beautiful fish so gracefully swimming about in their territory is so amazing that I don’t even remember when I gave Jez the ‘go-ahead’ of taking me into deeper waters. I ensured he was always in sight and that I was always within his reach. Gradually I just got totally used to breathing through the mouth, probably cause the beauty underwater did leave my mouth wide open! The corals, the Nemos, the colors are something I can just never forget. It was almost like we were in some fantasy world…it just din’t look real out there. We were careful about not touching anything and not disturbing the fish. We watched them eat, nibble and even have their small squabbles. Well I could go on and on….all I wanted to say here was ‘if you get a chance to dive, don’t miss it!'
Our instructor was a british man named Jez. He so much loved Havelock and diving there (when he came for a trip to India) that he decided to relocate from London to Havelock and became an instructor there with Barefoot resort. He is very proficient and had a lot of patience. If it wasn’t for him, I would have actually just given up just after trying out the gear and getting a hang of it. He started with a very detailed explanation of what was involved in the whole process. Theoretically he explained what happens to the body when you go under water most of which I remembered studying in Physics in class 6/7. It felt weird….when you learn about these things as a kid….its just something in the book…some logic. Though you understand all the logic, I remember reading about it very indifferently. But here I was neck deep in water, trying to put into my head, that a few meters of water above your head could actually kill me if I wasn’t careful!The fact that all the logic and science could actually happen on your body is so unbelievable.
We dived at elephant beach which is about 40 minutes by boat from Beach no.3 in Havelock. Once you get there, Jez helps you with all the equipment and then lets you try out all the hand signals and tricks and tips that he spoke about. As I did that, I got this totally claustrophobic feeling under water. I thought I would never get used to the weird feeling of breathing in and out through the mouth. The 1st few times, I just couldn't breathe in through the mouth. After a couple of attempts I got ok with that. Then the mask was a problem. It was a little too big for me so water kept entering my mask. ‘What’s the big deal’ you might think. But water right in front of your nose kinda gives you a very scary ‘am drowning’ kinda feel. Well, it probably won’t for people who are really comfortable with water. But I am a little paranoid and tend to over imagine! :D Jez seemed to know just what to do with me. Even as I was struggling to get used with all this, he just started pointing out some lovely shoals of fish near the shore. The sight of these beautiful fish so gracefully swimming about in their territory is so amazing that I don’t even remember when I gave Jez the ‘go-ahead’ of taking me into deeper waters. I ensured he was always in sight and that I was always within his reach. Gradually I just got totally used to breathing through the mouth, probably cause the beauty underwater did leave my mouth wide open! The corals, the Nemos, the colors are something I can just never forget. It was almost like we were in some fantasy world…it just din’t look real out there. We were careful about not touching anything and not disturbing the fish. We watched them eat, nibble and even have their small squabbles. Well I could go on and on….all I wanted to say here was ‘if you get a chance to dive, don’t miss it!'
Ahem...
Blogger: Huh..who are you?
Shilpa: Its me, Shilpa.
Blogger: Who Shilpa?
Shilpa: Er...i used to write in this space before. I used to come by often.
Blogger: Hmm..I don't quite remember. You haven't been here for a while now.
Shilpa: Er, ya..am sorry, will try to be more regular in the future.
Blogger: Ok, hope you mean what you are saying. Just this once, I'll let you write.
Shilpa: Thanks! (Phew!)
Shilpa: Its me, Shilpa.
Blogger: Who Shilpa?
Shilpa: Er...i used to write in this space before. I used to come by often.
Blogger: Hmm..I don't quite remember. You haven't been here for a while now.
Shilpa: Er, ya..am sorry, will try to be more regular in the future.
Blogger: Ok, hope you mean what you are saying. Just this once, I'll let you write.
Shilpa: Thanks! (Phew!)
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Tech bubble
Another one of those videos on the tech boom:
Am putting this up here on my blog, cause I kinda felt obliged to do so! ;) The song in the video (tune based on billy Joel's 'We din't start the fire', one of my favourites) has a couple of lines which goes..
"Blog blog blog it all, Blog it if it's big or small"
"Blog even if you are wrong, won't you blog about this song":)
Am putting this up here on my blog, cause I kinda felt obliged to do so! ;) The song in the video (tune based on billy Joel's 'We din't start the fire', one of my favourites) has a couple of lines which goes..
"Blog blog blog it all, Blog it if it's big or small"
"Blog even if you are wrong, won't you blog about this song":)
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
A Successful life
Last weekend I was at the Jagjit Singh concert in Bangalore. The indoor stadium was packed. People had driven from all over Bangalore on a Saturday evening (the worst day of the week in terms of traffic) to attend his concert. It took us about an hour in the queue just to enter the stadium. (The smart guys had set up just the one metal detector for thousands of people :-/). After all the confusion and chaos we settled down and the show began. Within a few seconds of hearing his voice the crowd seemed to have forgotten all the hours of frustration and was totally mesmerized by his voice. It was interesting observing people, some of whom really looked intoxicated by his voice. That got me thinking...this man, sitting there on the stage playing a harmonium had engineered a successful life. 'Successful' per the commonly accepted definition of the word. They say, he has had a tough life and really struggled to make his way to the top. His voice might be God gifted, but success wasn't served to him on a platter.
As with many such things, this led me into some introspection. I wondered how I would rate my life when I was a 60 years old. Then again, why should I wait till I am 60 to rate myself? What about my life up until now? Can I rate myself a 'successful'? Shouldn't I be able to extrapolate about the rest of my life on the basis of what I have 'achieved' till now? Am I behind target on my plans towards stamping 'successful' on my life?I realized that my definition of 'successful' for myself has a number of sub-bullets, some of which won't appear in the popularly accepted definition. Infact a lot of my sub-bullets wouldn't even match with those that appear in the lists of people I gel with most in terms of wavelength. I must admit, that there was some discomfort about the possibility of being labelled 'unsuccessful' according to the populary accepted criteria. That was soon replaced by the bigger discomfort of having to change my criteria just for the sake of tallying it with someone elses. After all the thought, I decided to freeze on my very own criteria and chalked out small plans towards achieving my goals, none of which has to do with world hunger or any such thing! (I get goose bumps thinking of me reading this page when am 60! Blogger, please save all this up for me to come back and reminisce!)
To think, Jagjit Singh struggled and worked hard for a life time, got a 100 awards, got himself an entry into wikipedia, came to perform in Bangalore and there I was wondering if he thought of himself as ‘successful’ per his own criteria!
As with many such things, this led me into some introspection. I wondered how I would rate my life when I was a 60 years old. Then again, why should I wait till I am 60 to rate myself? What about my life up until now? Can I rate myself a 'successful'? Shouldn't I be able to extrapolate about the rest of my life on the basis of what I have 'achieved' till now? Am I behind target on my plans towards stamping 'successful' on my life?I realized that my definition of 'successful' for myself has a number of sub-bullets, some of which won't appear in the popularly accepted definition. Infact a lot of my sub-bullets wouldn't even match with those that appear in the lists of people I gel with most in terms of wavelength. I must admit, that there was some discomfort about the possibility of being labelled 'unsuccessful' according to the populary accepted criteria. That was soon replaced by the bigger discomfort of having to change my criteria just for the sake of tallying it with someone elses. After all the thought, I decided to freeze on my very own criteria and chalked out small plans towards achieving my goals, none of which has to do with world hunger or any such thing! (I get goose bumps thinking of me reading this page when am 60! Blogger, please save all this up for me to come back and reminisce!)
To think, Jagjit Singh struggled and worked hard for a life time, got a 100 awards, got himself an entry into wikipedia, came to perform in Bangalore and there I was wondering if he thought of himself as ‘successful’ per his own criteria!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
When did we unlearn...
My two year old niece, Avantika, managed to teach me a couple of valuable management lessons amidst her goo-goo gaa-gaa gabble. So what if she calls me 'Shil-pa-pa'...cause she doesn't know when to stop the 'pa'...so what if she calls a tortoise a 'to-to-toise' cause she doesn't know how many damn 'to's are there in tortoise, she seems to know a thing or two about some very important inter-personal skills that we try and learn from these management courses at our firms!
In my opinion, managing a house maid and other such unskilled workers who work for you in a non-professional set up is much tougher than managing educated/skilled people in a professional environment. Keeping a maid motivated enough to come to work every single day and perform well continuously is not a petty task. The feedback system doesn't work most times....the way most maids react to feedback is by quitting!Paying above the market is not always a solution. Most of these people have very tough personal lives. Some of us, do a good job of making the maids working hours as pleasant as possible. But the way my niece handled the situation was so different...that it was almost eye opening! She met my maid for the 1st time a couple of days back and greeted her very pleasantly first thing in the morning. To her the maid was an aunty, just like I was. There was no differentiation. She called her 'anti' just like she addresses me..! The next day, the maid got an even warmer welcome. Avantika, was maybe a little shy to express all her love and affection for the new 'anti' so fell short of hugging the maid when she came in. But she ran around the house, declaring to everyone that 'anti' has arrived (probably expecting all of us to queue up in a line and greet and hug 'anti' etc). After that kind of a welcome and unabashed display of her affection, I doubt if the maid would be able to refuse any task that Avantika requests her to do for her!
When most adults are treating maids as if they are inferior, the kids' approach seemed so much like the right thing to do. Most kids are that way...they come in with a fresh perspective...with no preconceived notions, without these walls that we build while going around the sun. For the life of me, I can't remember, when or how I unlearnt all these things that I must have come in with! Worse still, I am not even sure, if I can learn these things again and effectively implement them! :(
In my opinion, managing a house maid and other such unskilled workers who work for you in a non-professional set up is much tougher than managing educated/skilled people in a professional environment. Keeping a maid motivated enough to come to work every single day and perform well continuously is not a petty task. The feedback system doesn't work most times....the way most maids react to feedback is by quitting!Paying above the market is not always a solution. Most of these people have very tough personal lives. Some of us, do a good job of making the maids working hours as pleasant as possible. But the way my niece handled the situation was so different...that it was almost eye opening! She met my maid for the 1st time a couple of days back and greeted her very pleasantly first thing in the morning. To her the maid was an aunty, just like I was. There was no differentiation. She called her 'anti' just like she addresses me..! The next day, the maid got an even warmer welcome. Avantika, was maybe a little shy to express all her love and affection for the new 'anti' so fell short of hugging the maid when she came in. But she ran around the house, declaring to everyone that 'anti' has arrived (probably expecting all of us to queue up in a line and greet and hug 'anti' etc). After that kind of a welcome and unabashed display of her affection, I doubt if the maid would be able to refuse any task that Avantika requests her to do for her!
When most adults are treating maids as if they are inferior, the kids' approach seemed so much like the right thing to do. Most kids are that way...they come in with a fresh perspective...with no preconceived notions, without these walls that we build while going around the sun. For the life of me, I can't remember, when or how I unlearnt all these things that I must have come in with! Worse still, I am not even sure, if I can learn these things again and effectively implement them! :(
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
A thousand splendid suns...
The India Pakistan world cup final victory for India felt nothing short of a thousand splendid suns! In the end, it was all worth it. The whole day planning around the match timings...all the tension and anxiety that all of India went through. That evening, all of Bangalore seemed to be leaving from work in time for the match at 5:30pm. It was so obvious...the regular 6-7pm traffic jams were happening at 4-5pm that evening...but for once, seeing the crazy traffic that evening at 5 felt good...it felt like all of the country was united in something...all of us were one big team...and doing our bit of sending positive energy to our representatives on the playing field at Johannesburg that evening! :)
I am glad, I came out of it alive! I was really worried that the next days news would read 'girl in Bangalore dies of heart attack watching India Pakistan cricket match'. The last ball of the match, where the cool Misbah made the mistake of trying to hit a 6 in the wrong side of the field, and getting caught instead and thus giving the cup to us...caught us all by surprise. We were all hopeful, obviously, but the way Misbah was going there seemed to be no stopping them. The surprise victory was actually too much to take...I realised we were all so caught up in it all...so involved in this...I for one, couldn't say anything for a couple of seconds..voice just didn't come out, I was so dumbstruck! After the jumping and screaming..and crying and laughing, we all picked up our phones to share the moment with our folks who were watching the match in another city...and guess what...all the networks were jammed...and no calls went through!
That evening was a treat to this cricket crazy nation. A day all of us will remember for a very long long time and cherish....just like the '83 victory for all of us who were old enough to remember seeing it. The picture of Kapil Dev in his navy blue jersey, cup in hand, the team behind, the champagne...though 14 years old, hasn't faded from memory. Its nice to have another picture of a young raring-to-go team lead by Dhoni to cherish! :) Nothing short of a thousand Splendid suns!
(BTW, Khaled Hosseini's latest book 'A thousand splendid suns' is worth a read!)
I am glad, I came out of it alive! I was really worried that the next days news would read 'girl in Bangalore dies of heart attack watching India Pakistan cricket match'. The last ball of the match, where the cool Misbah made the mistake of trying to hit a 6 in the wrong side of the field, and getting caught instead and thus giving the cup to us...caught us all by surprise. We were all hopeful, obviously, but the way Misbah was going there seemed to be no stopping them. The surprise victory was actually too much to take...I realised we were all so caught up in it all...so involved in this...I for one, couldn't say anything for a couple of seconds..voice just didn't come out, I was so dumbstruck! After the jumping and screaming..and crying and laughing, we all picked up our phones to share the moment with our folks who were watching the match in another city...and guess what...all the networks were jammed...and no calls went through!
That evening was a treat to this cricket crazy nation. A day all of us will remember for a very long long time and cherish....just like the '83 victory for all of us who were old enough to remember seeing it. The picture of Kapil Dev in his navy blue jersey, cup in hand, the team behind, the champagne...though 14 years old, hasn't faded from memory. Its nice to have another picture of a young raring-to-go team lead by Dhoni to cherish! :) Nothing short of a thousand Splendid suns!
(BTW, Khaled Hosseini's latest book 'A thousand splendid suns' is worth a read!)
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Bheja Fry
Bheja Fry....Great movie, Must watch….all that’s ok. You can sit and laugh at Bharat Bhushan’s comical face and Ranjeet Thadani’s plight. When something like that happens to you, gosh, it is tough. I had the misfortune of having to deal with a nutcase who really fried whatever little bheja I have! All along while interacting with this really low IQ guy, I kept telling myself ‘I definitely am smarter than this dud…I should be able to handle him and not let him effect my mood’…but I failed. Every interaction with him, actually frustrated me so much, I had to call someone and vent out to get back to my state of equilibrium. Even with his real low IQ, he is able to create so much of an impact. Should that be admired? I don’t know!
Even though I have no qualms about mentioning his real name here, I’ll just change names, because that’s how it is always done!
Once upon a time, not too long ago, (like 6 months back) we requested for drinking water cans to be delivered home. It seemed like a very straight forward thing. You pay deposit for the cans and dispenser and pay for the water every time it is delivered. To be on the safe side, I requested for 2 cans, so that as soon as one can is empty I could place my request for refill and I would still have one can to go in case the delivery is delayed etc. The 1st time the agent, Ramakant, came home it was quite eventful...more eventful than you would expect out of a situation involving water cans and money. I should have known that the 1st meeting was indicative of eventful times ahead! He was late and it was quite obvious he was totally out of schedule for the day. When he was at home, he got a number of calls from irate customers asking ‘when will you be here?’ and he responded with things like ‘Sir…I am right in front of your house’…’madam…I am just about to get into the lift of your building’….He din’t look like someone who had the ability to be in our living room and at 2 other places at the same time! He came home without all the stuff that was required to set up the cans and after saying all these blatant lies to a couple of thirsty people in Bangalore he looks straight in the eye and says ‘Sir, promise I’ll get it for you tomorrow’. Dippie smiled and said ‘boss…I had to make a 100 calls to you before you finally came…you stand here and lie to other people right in front of me…and you expect me to believe your ‘promise’?’ To that, his response was a stupid smile and a‘He He He…sir..I’ll come tomorrow na…’. I don’t quite remember how many days passed by for ‘tomorrow’ to come. But then it finally did..and we had drinking water cans set up in our home. After one can got empty, I promptly called Ramakant to ask for a refill of 1 can. He says ‘no no…I wont come all the way for 1 can’. I tried explaining to him about the logic of taking 2 cans…the fact that one was a backup in case of delays in delivery. Isn’t that a really simple logic? How come then, he, who delivers cans day in and day out couldn’t understand my logic? He speaks hindi and English…so it wasn’t a case of language barrier. He just din’t understand what I was trying to say. I tried putting myself in his shoes…to think the way he thought…to explain in simple terms. I think in his simple mind, he thought people ordered 2 cans together because 1 would be lonely all by iself! I just started to manage the water a little closely instead of breaking my head over Ramakant.
Gradually, even 2 cans became a problem for him! He would say things like ‘Mam, I can’t come for 2-3 days…am in the hospital’. Initially I gave him the benefit of doubt. Then I started to lose patience, having to wait for water cans for a week when the promised SLA was 1 day. I had tried everything out…contacting his boss…offering to go pick up the cans myself….nothing really seemed to work. That’s when I decided to go with another vendor. But exiting wasn’t easy…because the deposit of the cans was with Ramakant. When I called him to give him the bad news that we din’t want water from him anymore, he wasn’t upset or din’t even try to convince me to stick on. He just said ‘ok..will come and return the deposit and collect the cans’. I was pleasantly surprised…that I din’t have any explaining to do. But the pleasantness was shortlived when I realised he kept giving excuses and never turned up. 3 weeks passed by with this and that. I would call him and he would say ‘mam..can you call me later, am in traffic, driving’. I would call back later and he would say ‘mam..I cant come for 1 month, I met with an accident’. I should have began to feel guilty…cause my phone calls to him seemed to bring him bad luck and he wound up in the hospital at least 3 out of 5 times after my calls! I called his boss, and spilt the beans. Ramakant called back 5 minutes after I spoke to his boss with ‘Mam…did u call my boss?? Ok I will come in 2 days and return the deposit…’. Huh..? I imagined Ramakant in hospital all plastered up, leg hanging from a hook all settled in there to stay for a month. What amazing sincerity for his work to want to come out of all that in 2 days for the sake of my 1k deposit! I asked him ‘I thought you said you cant come for 1 month?’. He would just plain ignore my statement as if I never said anything and say ‘mam..I told you na..I’ll come on Monday….promise’! I started to hate his promises! Come Monday, he says, he came home and din’t find the watchman and he waited for 10 minutes. The building watchman is so old, that he hardly budges from his chair by the gate. Sometimes he is so tired (sitting), that he doesn’t even get up to open the gate when I want to park the car. Ramakant ‘promised’ that he was there at my building and that I could speak to his accomplice if I had a doubt about that. Yes, right, that’s just what I wanted…to talk to another Ramakant like guy who would vouch for him!’ How come you din’t call me when you got to my building? I would have come in 5 minutes?’ *IGNORE* (How does he do that? I wish I could learn to do that….just ignore when someone asks something I din’t want to answer). ‘Anyway, where are you now? I’ll come by home’ ‘No Madam, I am in Yelahanka now’. Now, if I want to go from Indiranagar to Yelahanka, at 2 in the afternoon, it would take me 30-45 minutes in the best traffic conditions. But Ramakant gets there in 15 minutes flat? How does he do all this?
I concluded, he has supernatural powers. He can be in 3 places at one time. When he stares at a broken foot for about 5 minutes, miraculously it cures…and he has a solution to the Bangalore traffic….he flies!
Even though I have no qualms about mentioning his real name here, I’ll just change names, because that’s how it is always done!
Once upon a time, not too long ago, (like 6 months back) we requested for drinking water cans to be delivered home. It seemed like a very straight forward thing. You pay deposit for the cans and dispenser and pay for the water every time it is delivered. To be on the safe side, I requested for 2 cans, so that as soon as one can is empty I could place my request for refill and I would still have one can to go in case the delivery is delayed etc. The 1st time the agent, Ramakant, came home it was quite eventful...more eventful than you would expect out of a situation involving water cans and money. I should have known that the 1st meeting was indicative of eventful times ahead! He was late and it was quite obvious he was totally out of schedule for the day. When he was at home, he got a number of calls from irate customers asking ‘when will you be here?’ and he responded with things like ‘Sir…I am right in front of your house’…’madam…I am just about to get into the lift of your building’….He din’t look like someone who had the ability to be in our living room and at 2 other places at the same time! He came home without all the stuff that was required to set up the cans and after saying all these blatant lies to a couple of thirsty people in Bangalore he looks straight in the eye and says ‘Sir, promise I’ll get it for you tomorrow’. Dippie smiled and said ‘boss…I had to make a 100 calls to you before you finally came…you stand here and lie to other people right in front of me…and you expect me to believe your ‘promise’?’ To that, his response was a stupid smile and a‘He He He…sir..I’ll come tomorrow na…’. I don’t quite remember how many days passed by for ‘tomorrow’ to come. But then it finally did..and we had drinking water cans set up in our home. After one can got empty, I promptly called Ramakant to ask for a refill of 1 can. He says ‘no no…I wont come all the way for 1 can’. I tried explaining to him about the logic of taking 2 cans…the fact that one was a backup in case of delays in delivery. Isn’t that a really simple logic? How come then, he, who delivers cans day in and day out couldn’t understand my logic? He speaks hindi and English…so it wasn’t a case of language barrier. He just din’t understand what I was trying to say. I tried putting myself in his shoes…to think the way he thought…to explain in simple terms. I think in his simple mind, he thought people ordered 2 cans together because 1 would be lonely all by iself! I just started to manage the water a little closely instead of breaking my head over Ramakant.
Gradually, even 2 cans became a problem for him! He would say things like ‘Mam, I can’t come for 2-3 days…am in the hospital’. Initially I gave him the benefit of doubt. Then I started to lose patience, having to wait for water cans for a week when the promised SLA was 1 day. I had tried everything out…contacting his boss…offering to go pick up the cans myself….nothing really seemed to work. That’s when I decided to go with another vendor. But exiting wasn’t easy…because the deposit of the cans was with Ramakant. When I called him to give him the bad news that we din’t want water from him anymore, he wasn’t upset or din’t even try to convince me to stick on. He just said ‘ok..will come and return the deposit and collect the cans’. I was pleasantly surprised…that I din’t have any explaining to do. But the pleasantness was shortlived when I realised he kept giving excuses and never turned up. 3 weeks passed by with this and that. I would call him and he would say ‘mam..can you call me later, am in traffic, driving’. I would call back later and he would say ‘mam..I cant come for 1 month, I met with an accident’. I should have began to feel guilty…cause my phone calls to him seemed to bring him bad luck and he wound up in the hospital at least 3 out of 5 times after my calls! I called his boss, and spilt the beans. Ramakant called back 5 minutes after I spoke to his boss with ‘Mam…did u call my boss?? Ok I will come in 2 days and return the deposit…’. Huh..? I imagined Ramakant in hospital all plastered up, leg hanging from a hook all settled in there to stay for a month. What amazing sincerity for his work to want to come out of all that in 2 days for the sake of my 1k deposit! I asked him ‘I thought you said you cant come for 1 month?’. He would just plain ignore my statement as if I never said anything and say ‘mam..I told you na..I’ll come on Monday….promise’! I started to hate his promises! Come Monday, he says, he came home and din’t find the watchman and he waited for 10 minutes. The building watchman is so old, that he hardly budges from his chair by the gate. Sometimes he is so tired (sitting), that he doesn’t even get up to open the gate when I want to park the car. Ramakant ‘promised’ that he was there at my building and that I could speak to his accomplice if I had a doubt about that. Yes, right, that’s just what I wanted…to talk to another Ramakant like guy who would vouch for him!’ How come you din’t call me when you got to my building? I would have come in 5 minutes?’ *IGNORE* (How does he do that? I wish I could learn to do that….just ignore when someone asks something I din’t want to answer). ‘Anyway, where are you now? I’ll come by home’ ‘No Madam, I am in Yelahanka now’. Now, if I want to go from Indiranagar to Yelahanka, at 2 in the afternoon, it would take me 30-45 minutes in the best traffic conditions. But Ramakant gets there in 15 minutes flat? How does he do all this?
I concluded, he has supernatural powers. He can be in 3 places at one time. When he stares at a broken foot for about 5 minutes, miraculously it cures…and he has a solution to the Bangalore traffic….he flies!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Little Miss Sunshine
Spoiler Alert: This post contains some details of the movie, "Little Miss Sunshine". Don't read further if you don't like hearing parts of the story before watching a movie.
I got to watch the academy award winning "Little Miss sunshine" recently. It was a simple movie and in my opinion, made very well. There were no major schemes, plots, clandestine activities, love affairs, wars, gadgets or spooky characters. It was just a simple story of an ordinary family and their journey together to a children's beauty pageant called ‘Little Miss Sunshine”. The youngest member of the family a cute, smart 7 year old ‘Olive’ aspires to walk away with the "Little miss sunshine" crown. There was no anti-climax at the end. No moral of the movie. No people turning from Good to bad or vice versa. It was just a slice of this family’s life. Maybe I loved it, because it was just that. It was something that anyone could somehow relate to. There are so many things we go through in course of our lives that no one makes a movie out of. It feels nice to sit and watch some slices of your life in an entertaining movie.
Here’s one slice that I particularly liked. Olive’s uncle is a part of the road trip. He is forced to accompany the family because he is suicidal and has to be kept in sight as he just had made an unsuccessful suicide attempt! I wonder how it would feel to be caught attempting suicide. Is there a point living after that? ;) Anyway, so here’s this guy who feels there is nothing to look forward in life and in all his sanity decides that he needs to be elsewhere doing other bigger things like floating around without a body! Ironically, he is forced into this tedious road trip in which he has to drag not only his body but also the rundown van. And the mission of the entire trip is getting Olive to participate in a silly inconsequential (to ‘mature’ adults) beauty pageant. After a painfully long, eventful journey, which would completely drain anyone, they reach the venue just in time. Even before the van comes to a complete halt, this suicidal uncle jumps out of the van and darts off…for a moment, I really thought he was so frustrated with the events of the entire day, that he was tipped off enough to make another attempt at suicide. It looked like he was waiting for the van to stop to get off and do something drastic. I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that this man was running towards the pageant registration desk to ensure that Olive didn’t miss the registration counter timings. Would you expect a guy who would rather be dead to care about a little girl’s fancies? Believe me…he really ran as if it was his life in question. It was really heart warming. None of us have fairy godmothers appearing before us everyday to fulfill our wishes. But once in a while someone around us, does this small but completely selfless thing for you…and that means so much more sunshine than any majestic coach formed out of a pumpkin!
I got to watch the academy award winning "Little Miss sunshine" recently. It was a simple movie and in my opinion, made very well. There were no major schemes, plots, clandestine activities, love affairs, wars, gadgets or spooky characters. It was just a simple story of an ordinary family and their journey together to a children's beauty pageant called ‘Little Miss Sunshine”. The youngest member of the family a cute, smart 7 year old ‘Olive’ aspires to walk away with the "Little miss sunshine" crown. There was no anti-climax at the end. No moral of the movie. No people turning from Good to bad or vice versa. It was just a slice of this family’s life. Maybe I loved it, because it was just that. It was something that anyone could somehow relate to. There are so many things we go through in course of our lives that no one makes a movie out of. It feels nice to sit and watch some slices of your life in an entertaining movie.
Here’s one slice that I particularly liked. Olive’s uncle is a part of the road trip. He is forced to accompany the family because he is suicidal and has to be kept in sight as he just had made an unsuccessful suicide attempt! I wonder how it would feel to be caught attempting suicide. Is there a point living after that? ;) Anyway, so here’s this guy who feels there is nothing to look forward in life and in all his sanity decides that he needs to be elsewhere doing other bigger things like floating around without a body! Ironically, he is forced into this tedious road trip in which he has to drag not only his body but also the rundown van. And the mission of the entire trip is getting Olive to participate in a silly inconsequential (to ‘mature’ adults) beauty pageant. After a painfully long, eventful journey, which would completely drain anyone, they reach the venue just in time. Even before the van comes to a complete halt, this suicidal uncle jumps out of the van and darts off…for a moment, I really thought he was so frustrated with the events of the entire day, that he was tipped off enough to make another attempt at suicide. It looked like he was waiting for the van to stop to get off and do something drastic. I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that this man was running towards the pageant registration desk to ensure that Olive didn’t miss the registration counter timings. Would you expect a guy who would rather be dead to care about a little girl’s fancies? Believe me…he really ran as if it was his life in question. It was really heart warming. None of us have fairy godmothers appearing before us everyday to fulfill our wishes. But once in a while someone around us, does this small but completely selfless thing for you…and that means so much more sunshine than any majestic coach formed out of a pumpkin!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
(b)RAIN WAVE
A couple of days back, it rained heavily and the 2nd century drainage system in Bangalore just gave up and timed out. We were driving back late at night after watching Harry Potter – Order of the Phoenix and everything around us was in disorder! Before I realize and prepare myself I find water all the way up to the bonnet of the car and then lo and behold the water seeped in through the base of the car and I could feel it at my feet! After that there was no stopping my over imaginative mind! Though I hate to admit this about my car, the zen sometimes gives away in the ½ tarred roads in Bangalore. So by no stretch of imagination can it pull through from deep waters. Now there’s water at my feet…how long will it take to cover us up..and drown us? The thought itself made me breathless as if I was literally in water and drowning. How much time did we have? We din’t have oars…else we could have rowed back to land. Rex hadn’t given us any of the harry potter magic wands as souvenirs for watching the movie on a rainy night! I started picturing ‘Day after tomorrow’ and looked around melodramatically and asked Dippie ‘what should I do? What will happen now?’ expecting him to say something really cool or bizarre….maybe the next step was lowering the windows, leaping out and start swimming to safety…In anticipation I had started taking deep breaths before plunging into water.
He looked at me quizzically and said ‘swerve a little to the right and then make a left’. How boring! While I had made a trip to heaven/hell and back, all he did was look out carefully at the road for relatively steeper portions!
He looked at me quizzically and said ‘swerve a little to the right and then make a left’. How boring! While I had made a trip to heaven/hell and back, all he did was look out carefully at the road for relatively steeper portions!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Slipping away...
It is fast slipping away
Even as I do all I can…
Even as I put all my will and might
Unperturbed, the grains just slip away…
As if to mock the sweat I put
When I naively picked up a fistful
It bore a promise of fun times…
Now, painfully, I am aware of every grain…
Callously slipping away and causing scars as they leave
Not even turning back to savor victory
It must be the undying hope of triumph
That makes me foolishly just hold on tighter
Abetting even the smallest grain
To do more while it is happily slipping away
And forever be lost amidst the countless grains
Scorched, defeated and scarred
I brush my hands in despair
I look around unwavering…for something less transient
With outstretched palms make a dash towards the ocean
Believing that water from my palms will never slip away!
Even as I do all I can…
Even as I put all my will and might
Unperturbed, the grains just slip away…
As if to mock the sweat I put
When I naively picked up a fistful
It bore a promise of fun times…
Now, painfully, I am aware of every grain…
Callously slipping away and causing scars as they leave
Not even turning back to savor victory
It must be the undying hope of triumph
That makes me foolishly just hold on tighter
Abetting even the smallest grain
To do more while it is happily slipping away
And forever be lost amidst the countless grains
Scorched, defeated and scarred
I brush my hands in despair
I look around unwavering…for something less transient
With outstretched palms make a dash towards the ocean
Believing that water from my palms will never slip away!
Monday, July 02, 2007
Losing Gracefully
Ever since I was a kid I have been accused of not being a graceful loser. I remember the endless games of Ludo we used to play all through the summer vacations with my brother and friends next door. Everything was hunky dory while I was winning. But the moment I started to lose my bro used to hold on to the Ludo board and after every throw of the die, take a mental picture of where all the coins were, so that we could resume even after I had flung the board ceiling ward! No matter how much we played and how much I or my team won, I have had a problem with losing!
When I was older, we played basketball during lunch break. By then, I had learnt not to display my extreme emotions with my friends. Though I was at my aggressive best when I was losing, I managed to not throw things around or make a scene while I was losing. But I remember feeling miserable about losing. A couple of weeks back, in some trivial competition at my work place, I lost something I thought would be a cakewalk for me. I smiled and clapped alright..and definitely didn’t look like someone who was miserable. But I walked out of the award distribution with so many unwanted thoughts as if I had lost the biggest game of my life! I sometimes think it is so weird that I make such a big deal about these trivial things. I like to hear/read philosophical things like ‘its just a game. Treat it like one. Have fun playing it’. But it ends there…I just like to hear and read those things. I can’t assimilate it. I think it is perfectly all right if the captain cries after losing a match, right there in the middle of the ground. In my opinion that shows he/she was passionate about winning. What’s wrong in displaying a little disappointment at not meeting your own expectations? I agree it would be inappropriate if Nadal flung his racket across the net at his opponent after losing. But I think it is quite alright to sit there and bawl first…and then if the opponent comes up to you…well..he could shake hands and congratulate him. You went out there to win. The topmost thing on your mind is extreme disappointment at losing…it is inhuman to expect such a person to smile and say ‘am glad for you’! You are anything but glad! Why has smiling after losing become the accepted code of conduct? While outwardly I silently abide by the code in most occasions where I am expected to, deep down, I am still learning to lose gracefully and treat a game as one!
When I was older, we played basketball during lunch break. By then, I had learnt not to display my extreme emotions with my friends. Though I was at my aggressive best when I was losing, I managed to not throw things around or make a scene while I was losing. But I remember feeling miserable about losing. A couple of weeks back, in some trivial competition at my work place, I lost something I thought would be a cakewalk for me. I smiled and clapped alright..and definitely didn’t look like someone who was miserable. But I walked out of the award distribution with so many unwanted thoughts as if I had lost the biggest game of my life! I sometimes think it is so weird that I make such a big deal about these trivial things. I like to hear/read philosophical things like ‘its just a game. Treat it like one. Have fun playing it’. But it ends there…I just like to hear and read those things. I can’t assimilate it. I think it is perfectly all right if the captain cries after losing a match, right there in the middle of the ground. In my opinion that shows he/she was passionate about winning. What’s wrong in displaying a little disappointment at not meeting your own expectations? I agree it would be inappropriate if Nadal flung his racket across the net at his opponent after losing. But I think it is quite alright to sit there and bawl first…and then if the opponent comes up to you…well..he could shake hands and congratulate him. You went out there to win. The topmost thing on your mind is extreme disappointment at losing…it is inhuman to expect such a person to smile and say ‘am glad for you’! You are anything but glad! Why has smiling after losing become the accepted code of conduct? While outwardly I silently abide by the code in most occasions where I am expected to, deep down, I am still learning to lose gracefully and treat a game as one!
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Parking woes
Does the area around your house belong to you, just because you got someone to clean it up a little and cemented it? Here in Bangalore people seem to think so. I can understand 'no parking' signs in front of the gate leading to someone's house. But I just don't understand signs on the boundary walls of houses saying 'If you park here, flat tyre guaranteed'. When I first saw the sign in the lanes in 7th block Koramangala (behind Food world, hutch etc) I was quite surprised. Since then, I have noticed such rude signs in many localities.
I have been in a couple of arguments with house owners on this parking issue. One elderly lady once decided not to argue/reason out with me. She just popped up near the boundary wall of her house while I was parking and shouted at me so loud that I wondered how something like this could impact an old person so much. If it meant so much to her, I would have parked elsewhere had she just asked me. She needn't have started the conversation assuming that I wouldn't move. She needn't have risked her voice box and put her life at stake for this! After a couple of minutes of hearing her, I just slotted her in my mental list of elderly people who have issues with all of us 'software people' invading their city. The next day when I was in that area again, I noticed she had put some dry twigs and branches in the area around her house in an attempt to thwart anyone's plans of parking there!
Another time I waited in my car by an apartment complex for a few minutes. The watchman approached me and asked me to move out. He was quite polite and I tried reasoning out with him. Told him that my friends had just stepped out and would be back in 2-3 minutes and I would move the car if anyone came that way and wouldn't cause any inconvenience to anyone. He was on the verge of agreeing to let me be when a couple of drivers who had parked in the commercial complex nearby came up to listen to the conversation. One of them again didn't believe in talking/sorting things out and very rudely asked me to move out of the area. It caught me by surprise and I thought I'd first ask him to lower his volume and talk nicely. Of course it din't work and my face must have turned red when this roadside hero gestured 'get lost' to me as if I was scum. My friends came back just then. Then I realized that what I thought was rude and cheap was all very decent in comparison to what was to follow. What I had faced was preferential treatment on account of my feminine status. The crowd's true colors came out only after that. When I saw how they spoke and treated my male friends I was truly shaken. The whole situation had spiraled out of control for something really trivial. The irony of the situation was that the apartment's watchman who initially requested me to move out was nowhere to be seen!
There is lack of space. No doubts about that! Quiet residential areas are getting crowded with all these cars being parked because of businesses not providing parking space within their premises. Every resident is impacted some way or the other. But some people are not able to take all the chaos and are reacting. Some of them have decided that they will make their own rules and laws and devise their own means to enforce them. The best way to deal with this situation most times is to park far away from these kind of people even if it means walking 10 minutes to get to your car! Steer clear! A flattened tyre is a small issue...a flattened nose is not!
I have been in a couple of arguments with house owners on this parking issue. One elderly lady once decided not to argue/reason out with me. She just popped up near the boundary wall of her house while I was parking and shouted at me so loud that I wondered how something like this could impact an old person so much. If it meant so much to her, I would have parked elsewhere had she just asked me. She needn't have started the conversation assuming that I wouldn't move. She needn't have risked her voice box and put her life at stake for this! After a couple of minutes of hearing her, I just slotted her in my mental list of elderly people who have issues with all of us 'software people' invading their city. The next day when I was in that area again, I noticed she had put some dry twigs and branches in the area around her house in an attempt to thwart anyone's plans of parking there!
Another time I waited in my car by an apartment complex for a few minutes. The watchman approached me and asked me to move out. He was quite polite and I tried reasoning out with him. Told him that my friends had just stepped out and would be back in 2-3 minutes and I would move the car if anyone came that way and wouldn't cause any inconvenience to anyone. He was on the verge of agreeing to let me be when a couple of drivers who had parked in the commercial complex nearby came up to listen to the conversation. One of them again didn't believe in talking/sorting things out and very rudely asked me to move out of the area. It caught me by surprise and I thought I'd first ask him to lower his volume and talk nicely. Of course it din't work and my face must have turned red when this roadside hero gestured 'get lost' to me as if I was scum. My friends came back just then. Then I realized that what I thought was rude and cheap was all very decent in comparison to what was to follow. What I had faced was preferential treatment on account of my feminine status. The crowd's true colors came out only after that. When I saw how they spoke and treated my male friends I was truly shaken. The whole situation had spiraled out of control for something really trivial. The irony of the situation was that the apartment's watchman who initially requested me to move out was nowhere to be seen!
There is lack of space. No doubts about that! Quiet residential areas are getting crowded with all these cars being parked because of businesses not providing parking space within their premises. Every resident is impacted some way or the other. But some people are not able to take all the chaos and are reacting. Some of them have decided that they will make their own rules and laws and devise their own means to enforce them. The best way to deal with this situation most times is to park far away from these kind of people even if it means walking 10 minutes to get to your car! Steer clear! A flattened tyre is a small issue...a flattened nose is not!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Midnight marathon -Bangalore (May 19th 2007)
After having run a full marathon last year,I chose to run a half marathon in the Bangalore midnight marathon on May 19th 2007. I wanted to focus on my timing and get that right in 1/2 a marathon. The day before the marathon while talking to my mom over phone on my plans for the weekend I said 'Am running 1/2 a marathon' and she goes 'oh! why? Don't tire yourself.' I thought it was a funny response 'Don't tire yourself'.What she din't say was 'Can't you find anything better to do? Why don't you just do the regular stuff people do?' At the end of the race, while walking about 20 minutes to get to my car at 4am, I really wondered if I was getting obsessed with all this running stuff! I think I am! I set myself a target of doing 21.1km in 2 hours and I did it. Now I am thinking of how I can better my timings.
The midnight marathon was a very unique experience. We din’t have to bother about the sun beating down on us. The arrangements were pretty good and there was no dearth of water in the water stations. There was enough security and I wasn't scared about stray dogs chasing me. The organizers managed to keep the tempo up with a lot of people in costumes, on stilts, playing music and beating drums etc. The running loop was actually totally cordoned off and we din't have to worry about any vehicles running us over etc. (except for the bikes with camera men and videographers who made us feel like celebrities). Things were more professionally organized and each of us had a running chip attached to our shoes which recorded our timings. At the end of the race there was some chilled Minute maid handed out which tasted heavenly. The whole atmosphere was pretty festive with food stalls, music etc. It reminded me of 'Sports day' at school!
As with anything, experience really helps. After having run one full marathon a few months back, I knew I couldn't depend on the organizers for replenishment of essential salts and sugars. I had my energy bar and Electral with me. Also, being part of Runners For life (RFL) really helps. I get to read about all the smart techniques and we get some professional advice from a doctor (sports and exercise medicine consultant) who is himself a very passionate runner. There are some things that scare you as well....like the news about the 22 yr old guy who died after running the London marathon a few weeks back. I would never have guessed that someone could die of drinking excess water! I think the organisers should write in big bold letters in the marathon forms and advertisements 'Running a marathon could be injurious or fatal.' One should really have a good hang of what this is before putting one's body through this. I think I have been really lucky so far. Wonder if I should keep trying my luck or switch to doing some less eccentric things! I have time to think...next Bangalore marathon is only in September. :D
Thursday, May 17, 2007
MTR, Bangalore
A few days back, we went to south
At 6 in the evening, it was jam packed. We saw a couple of free seats and excitedly ran towards them, thinking we were very smart at having noticed them when so many people seemed to be waiting. The waiter serving in that section seemed to figure that we were not regulars and announced 'Ee section only coffee'! Ah-ha!An enlightened trio, we walked out of the 'coffee only' section to the main hall which had just 6 tables and at least 25 people waiting around the tables. We thought the section on the 1st floor might be a little free...but the queue there was worse so we placed our bet on the ground floor hall. We weren't well versed with the etiquette and protocols of the place, and it took us some time to feel ok about standing so close to some one's chair while he/she was eating and pouncing on it as soon as they began to get up! Each of us picked a chair at a different table and started the wait.
In about 15 minutes one of us got lucky and got a chair. Again, in the hope of optimizing and getting to eat ASAP, we thought we would just place the order and the other 2 can just stand around the chair and eat and just get out of the place. There was no luxury of menu or any waiter patiently rattling off the items on the menu so we decided our items by looking around at what everyone was eating. We did all this across the room, signaling to each other, pointing at half eaten stuff on the tables etc. By that time, the time pressure and tension prevalent in the room seemed to get to us and when the waiter came my friend actually stammered a little while placing the order! He was probably scared that the waiter would give him just 3 seconds to place the order and would just walk away with whatever he heard in the 3 seconds! :D But the waiter heard the list, gave a Are-you-really-going-to-eat-all-that-by-yourself look and asked how many people were with him. He declared that he wouldn't take orders for people who hadn't got chairs...so the other 2 losers just had to wait for the damn chairs to free up.
Since we had all the time in the world we just stood and observed people. There was so much tension all around. Small arguments between people betting on the same chair and claiming they were in the vicinity of the chair first, people waiting for their stuff to arrive...hungry children tired of waiting and displaying their impatience. Far from being a place with a nice ambience for your favorite snack the environment seemed conducive enough for mini domestic fights. An elderly couple ended up having a fight there with the husband shouting across the hall to his wife when the wife wasn't fast enough to pounce on a chair that had freed up. The poor lady seemed to have lost all her appetite after that and just looked in the opposite direction after she got shouted at! It was quite amusing. Even the foodie in me din't quite get why anyone would go through all that for a snack. We ended up spending about 1.5 hours for some dosa, khara bhat, rava idli and coffee. There was no doubt that the food was good and quite unique. But the whole experience made it not worth the while. It felt like we really had to earn the food not only with money, but with a lot of time as well. I have heard that the chaos is much more at lunch time. Patience is in short supply and the waiters treat you like they are doing you a favor and serving you free food. I walked out of the place thinking that the name is quite appropriate – MTR – only it shouldn't expand to “Mavalli Tiffin Room”, it should be “Maha Tension Room”!
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