The "balancing" act

The hot summer continues to melt tar outside. The predictable “it has never ever been so hot before” conversations have also started petering out, as bleary eyes and fiery winds have put a dampener to social meetings of enlightened souls where one discusses the weather.

The government wants to increase prices of diesel cars to “balance” out the distribution of "pain" between Petrol and Diesel car owners .Aren’t we forever caught in this balancing game ? Balancing one injustice with another, balancing one stupidity with another ? I guess we are a nation of balancers –"balancing"  being perhaps a polished, sophisticated version of our DNA term ,"Jugaad”, or “adjustment” . No attempt to look at the obvious, no attempt the treat the cause, no attempt to set right the  basics. It is ,always,“Jugaad”  all the way !

S&P is predicting our fall from “angel” status. Angel, huh ? . The various  “unkels”  “Daddus” and the “great aunt” running our sarkar have vehemently derided the non transparent and “poor” methodology adopted by "S & Poor"  to sound out our impending doom. “Shob kooch theek hain”- is what you hear them say by way of a constructive panacea to the perils in front of anyone without their blinkers on .Ours is a disaster milestone based polity- of one impending confounding milestone following the next. The “sarkar” is thus forever negotiating the  milestones , jumping from one to the next, and to the next ; and all hopes of some action is always promised after the “next” milestone. Of course, nothing is done in between the milestones in deference to the aam( mango) Janata’s voting powers and an insatiable desire to maintain status quo, at any cost ! Endless list of milestones- where you don’t upset the apple cart-UP Elections, Presidential Elections, next assembly elections, next panchayat elections …… And some milestones are also constants, appearing as an "austere " sari with sinusoidal  regularity, screaming "Cholbe Na " at every instance !

IPL is over and I can breathe easy now ! Moral discussions about cheer girls and their dangers to our sensitive social fabric  are put on hold till next year. SRK  has promised to behave well till next year and Dada has built up ample stock of hair gel to last the next five years where he will continue to lead by example! All others are laughing their way to the bank and I have also decided to put on hold the raging debate within me- whom to support ? And meanwhile, the “boys” are by now presumably fed, watered and rested enough to  win the next few matches in India and to lose the other remaining matches out of India.

 Did I mention somewhere earlier about a great “balancing” game – you win some, you lose some !

The World of "solutions"

As any management Guru worth his salt will tell you, this is the age of "solutions". These days, you do not simply buy a product-you are offered "solutions". The companies, or rather ,solution providers, are now capable of understanding your "pain points" and they then weave a “solution” to end your pains. Pretty straightforward, and makes sense . The world is getting complicated and so are the needs and demands. Thus, days of buying off the shelf products that could satisfy your needs are practically over. Your needs have evolved, your pains have increased and thus there is less scope for a one-size-fit-all product. Enter the world of solutions and lo and behold, your pains shall disappear !

This phenomenon is perfectly understandable in a technical world ,and with ever-changing market dynamics, changing demands and cut throat competition, a solution centric approach is what the good doctor would prescribe. So no issues on that score,whatsoever !

However, of late, the "solutions approach" seems to have transgressed the heady world of technology and related business and  permeated into  trades,even the most basic,  all of which claim to offer "solutions".

I was intrigued the other day when I came across an advertisement for taps and bathroom accessories. But no, you would not find the words tap written anywhere in the copy. It was, you guessed it, "bathing solutions "!

The good old barber has stopped writing “hair dresser” on his signboard. Instead, I  have increasingly seen boards proclaiming “hair solutions” to their customers. The local gym in my neighborhood has also come up with a signboard that proudly displays “health solutions” ! And next to him is an outlet which arranges birthday parties and sells return gifts for kids. Yes, you guessed it, it was called “Birthday Solutions” ! Pens are "writing solutions" and of course you don’t go to a bank simply to deposit money- you purchase "banking solutions" ! Your  insurance agent will take affront if you refuse to accept that what he sells are anything other than "financial solutions" !

Car rental agencies are no longer car rental agencies. They are “travel and transport “ solutions. And you will be aptly put in place if perchance you happen to refer to a video rental store as anything other than “entertainment solutions”. Many grocery stores have already stated that they are "home solutions" and restaurants are but of course "food solutions".

I guess it is but a question of time before your toothpaste is not known as anything else other than “tooth  solutions “and flip flops are but “walking solutions”. What would you call your tailor if not a “coverage solution” and your plumber if not as a  “water solution”? Soaps will sell as "cleaning solutions" and deodorants are of course, "body odor solutions" !  I guess you get the gist now- and you can thank me for reprogramming your thoughts in a solution centric world.

And now that the temperature is hovering on the wrong side of 45 degrees Celsius, can we have some  chilled beer- oops..some "heat relief solutions" ?

Summer Cynic

Summer is upon us and this is the time I start rambling aimlessly, more than I do normally. I attribute this to an attack of summer depression that befalls  me with unflinching regularity ,without fail, every year. I am more miserable and abundantly cranky when the heat is turned on. I have read all the self help books which says that you should simply carry the weather with you, and thus , by that logic, I ought to  be feeling snug and warm as if it was the winter. But I realize that summer simply does not work for me ; I grumble and groan and moan ,and somehow drag myself wearily through the hot summer months. I can manage the cold winters much better- I can always wear more clothes !  But summers are different, there is always a limit to the clothing one can shed, beyond a point ! In the midst of all the grime and sultriness, the grey cells ( and aging one at that !) simply fail to register the sparkle of life.

It is in this bleak state of mind that I start looking around for spots of excitement which can lift the spirits up and extort the mind to sing tra-la-la. Only to draw a blank ,mostly.

As a starter, I  contemplated spicing up my blogs with some cartoons. But then I realized that a certain powerful lady and her cohorts might proclaim “Cholbe Na” and I might find myself entertaining jailbirds, a task fraught with the risk of being rather unpleasant ! Definitely not an activity that might be classified as exciting, by any means ,especially when there is a realization that my own EQ, or “Entertainment” Quotient, is not at an all time high now .

I then turned towards the idiot box then for some much needed excitement. The loony anchors and their loonier panelists continue to thump the tables at all sort of grave issues, but somehow, they failed to excite the sleeping dud within me.IPL posed a peculiarly uncomfortable situation in that I simply could not figure out, even halfway down the tournament, whom to support ! And I was quite aghast at the dress code imposed by the moral brigade on the cheerleaders of some of the teams, and they ceased to provide any further sources of entertainment. After all,how on earth do you watch dancers dancing in the hot humid sultry summer of Kolkata wearing about 5kg of Jewellery each ? And then  to top it all, they then went about adjudging that it is simply an affront to our pristine and vulnerable society to see an  award winning movie on prime time TV as we are simply incapable of handling sex and erotica without governmental supervision.

I turned towards the newspapers for some possible excitement. All I can see are the daily relentless doses of rapes, road rages, murders, abduction by Maoists, abduction by classmates, honour killings , etc,etc. Reforms are on hold as the government is constantly busy repairing the legs of its “Kursi”, routinely  cut off with impunity by its rag tag, motley group of “supporters” who have no idea what a mess they are making of this country. Or maybe they have, but who cares, anyway ! With investments dwindling, and its coffers empty, the “sarkar” is  now trying to bring excitement in its policies by modifying  tax laws with retrospective ambit so that the “evil” investor is further spooked away from the country and we all can live happily ever after !

I realize-nothing has changed. Nothing is new !

Why is it that the summer brings out the cynic in me ?

Cross Connection

It was a call like countless other phone calls that you receive in a day. “One more telemarketer”, I thought wearily.

The voice on the other hand was clipped, polished and indeed very polite. “Not the regular telemarketer type” , I said to myself.

“Sir, I am calling from the Jaguar Land Rover showroom in Gurgaon” she identified herself.  “I hope this is a convenient time to talk, Mr. Chowdhury ?”

Normally, I deal with pesky telemarketers in two different methods. One approach I adopt most frequently is to go silent-yes completely silent! A complete state of being incommunicado ! It is only after a while that the person realizes that perhaps this is no longer sounding anything like a duplex communication. The usual pattern is that the telemarketer disconnects the call, thinking that perhaps the line is bad, and dials in again, only to find that indeed it has become a one way communication ! To make matters interesting, I sometimes substitute the silence with chuckles and snortles. This method works like a charm, mostly.

The other approach which also works is to listen in to the whole proposition from the other end and then to reply with questions like “can you please let me know what is the cricket score”, or “is it going to rain tomorrow ?” This method, while it works most of the time, sometimes is fraught with the real risk that the telemarketer actually provides me the cricket score too , while trying to sell me the policy which I vehemently refuse to buy. It does put me off guard, but thankfully , such instances are not that common.

So, coming back to the call from the Car Showroom, I was just about to slip into one of the two modes mentioned above, when it struck me that I never ever got a call from a Jaguar showroom, ever !Curiosity got the better of me and I answered, “ Yes, this is Chowdhury speaking”!

“Sir, Thank you ! Actually I had called up to fix an appointment for you to come and visit our showroom. We would like to show you the entire range of Jaguar and Land Rover Cars to you .Could you please let me know when you could come by so that I can arrange a salesman to explain our offerings to you ? “

By now, I had already slipped into the silent mode referred above, but this time not at my own insistence ! It took a while to realize that the lady was asking me again, very politely, when I could make the visit.

“Er, ahem, gee ! Right away… hell no ! Wait.. what ho , what ho ! Ten thousand Thundering Typhoons. I mean , you are actually asking me to come and visit your showroom “, I managed to blurt out, eventually .

“ Yes Sir, indeed I am “, the reply was ever so polite, the tone perfectly polished .

“But why ?”

“Well, of course, so that we can help you to decide on the car you wanted to buy . Our sales manager will explain everything right down to the smallest detail. We will help to make your choice very easy “.

I was gulping air like a fish out of water by now.”But why” , I repeat the question and then do a slight course correction.” I mean why me ? “ I manage with a final air of, well, almost despair !

“Why do you want me to come and see Jaguars in your showroom “ I emphasized the “me” in the question prominently now.

"Well , we understand that you want to buy a Jaguar, and we wanted to make the experience extremely smooth for you".

I had by then finished my feats of jumping twice from my seat and having  turned around three times around the chair, I managed to find some ounce of strength in my tone,and whimpered, “but no, I don’t. I mean of course I would love to buy a Jaguar. Absolutely positive about that . Not an iota of doubt there, mind you. But you see, I cannot afford  a Jaguar. So, I am sure there is a mistake- I am not the person you want to speak to. I said ,triumphantly, by now, having made my point.

I then continued ” You see, I am sure you have your database of rich Chowdhury’s wrong there. There is a mix up, I assure you.”

“Sir, I am positive that you are the correct person I am speaking to”. But by now, I could sense that the polite voice was slightly shaken. Why don't you still come around this weekend, just to have a look , in any case ?

With that, the phone was politely disconnected. I meanwhile continued to stare at my own set, for a long, long time !

Micro Moisture Serum !

Once upon a time when the world was simpler, buying a product was a simple event, almost bordering on the boring. If you  wanted to buy a soap, you looked in the stores for different brands and they all said that they were soaps. Or if you wanted to buy a pair of blades, you did not have to bother if they were Teflon coated or if they had an “active edge”. One assumed that the blade was just that- a blade.

With passage of time, science and its various wonderful inventions and discoveries made its way to the products you buy, and suddenly you had to put on your thinking hat more often while buying , say, a toothpaste, or a shaving cream, or a pair of shoes, which suddenly started giving you options of going in for one with a “transition bridge” or otherwise.

 And then clever marketeers took over, and before you could say “what Ho!”, you are now suddenly faced with products which claimed to contain the most esoteric and desirable components one can wish for.

I was confronted with the complexity of making a simple trip to the neighborhood hyper market the other day, when I decided to look at the products on the shelves beyond the customary brand name or the manufacturer.

“Contains Micro Moisture Serum”-declared the bottle of Shampoo as it stared at me, urging me to try this, perhaps the latest panacea for my fast receding hairline. The text sounded technical enough to awaken the techie in me, and I decided to ignore the nagging question of “just what the hell is a micro moisture serum “ ? With a flourish, I picked up the shampoo and ceremoniously placed it in my shopping basket.

Feeling rather smug with my attainment of the micro moisture serum, I went on to the section selling toothpastes. I found one with “Denta X”. Another claimed it contained “Fluro Y”. And then there was “Active crystal W”, “Whitex Z”  and “Titanium T” .Now this is no longer that simple- I realized. I closed my eyes in silent meditation, and images of white haired, bespectacled and bearded  scientists started dancing around  ! I also saw professor calculus with his invention- he was the one who had seemingly invented Active Crystal W.I decided to settle for that one- the one with “Active Crystal W”.It promised that the revolutionary new crystals would effectively give me a new pair of bright shiny teeth. My eyes sparked at the prospect of Active Crystal W getting about its business of solving mankind’s problems with yellow teeth .

The washing powder then presented some of the most esoteric inventions hitherto unknown to mankind. There was "Stain busters", "grime busters", "Active Whitening Agents", "Passive Coloring Agents", "Xylo- X", "Formula White" and "Zeta Zones" as some of the marvelous inventions tucked away in the boxes and packets of washing powders. I was now extremely happy that the fruits of scientific research is indeed a pick away, and gratefully acknowledged the swirling images of beared professors in their explosive labs concocting up the goodies so that we mortals can live a life cleaner, whiter and  better !

I left the store wondering what the wonderful professor Calculus would come up with, next !

Bang for the Buck !

Things  seems to be plodding on uneventfully  for a long time, and I find  this disturbing . Uncle Sibal seems to be hibernating  somewhere and  blogger still seems to work. So he hasn’t banned it yet. Uncle Mani I suppose continues to froth in his mouth but is somehow unseen for a while and correspondingly un appreciated. Uncle Kalmadi oscillates between being an Alzheimer’s patient and being the head of the Indian Olympics association .And all other aunts and uncles seem to be busy going around their business of being aunts and uncles. Thus, in this rather placid and thereby grim scenario, the only  uncle who can now be looked forward to provide some entertainment in the near future is “Unkel Pronob” .

“Unkel Pronob” will be the man of the season very soon, as he goes about presenting the budget . Not being a student of economics myself, I will refrain from passing technically apt comments about the exercise and it’s outcome. But don’t you worry about not getting enough intellectual insights on this exercise, for there will be enough junta on the television , banging their hands on the table , bringing forth all the intricate feature of the budget. And while they bang their hands on the tables, we, the “mango people”( err.. the aam Janta ! ) , will be busy banging our heads against the wall.

Banging our heads in utter despair, again and again, to see our hard earned money going down the drain that passes as roads and infrastructure in this country. In despair against a rotten medical system where new born babies are rubbed with acid, (unless of course you earn well enough to afford a private medical system, where you get rubbed differently). In despair against a system where you are systematically conned, duped, abused ,swindled and ill treated, all with your own money !!

Notwithstanding the above mentioned acts of banging, do lookout for the annual ritual of “Unkel Pronob” declaring how he plans to tax us more. And then watch out for hilarious acts of defense and offence by the intellectuals on TV, moderated by  shrill ,hysterical and clueless anchors, all banging their hands on  the table with thingies flying around; well, almost !  And by the time the jamboree ends, most of us “mango people” would have got enough bang for our bucks !

And while all this banging goes around, it might be worthwhile to see the banging which our famed cricketers have received, off late. Have a heart for the poor sods ! You subject them to an abject torture of playing in a bouncy wicket  against some marauding speedsters. Then you ask them to play 50 over games and then, can you believe it, a 5 day, two innings test match ! In this age of instant nirvana, instant fame and instant money ? And then you expect the “boys” to win those matches ? Insane, I tell you !

A question of answers

A great part of a man’s life is spent trying to master the delicate art of answering women’s questions with a straight face so as not to invoke her wrath, laughter, derision,scorn or tears.

The "questions" can be as varied as cloud patterns on alternate days, so nobody has yet got around to writing a “wikihow” on the said topic. Many a gallant attempts have been made, I am told, to try to organize and classify the questions into recognizable formats for which stock answers could be made available. However, such attempts have merely multiplied manifold the nature , timbre, pitch and variety of the queries which might be asked of a man, in “questionable” times !

Take for instance, “ how does my haircut look “ ? An innocent query of the aforesaid variety begs a multitude of responses, depending on who you  are responding to, what time of the day( or night) the said query is posed, the surrounding environment, and countless other factors.

The toughest element of the aforesaid question, in my opinion, would be  to decipher if the said hair has been cut at all. I have been privy to an instance where the hair dresser ( you don’t call them barbers, by the way), was visited by my wife, desirous of a haircut, or at least, such was the stated intent. It took about 30 minutes to determine and agree between them the desired end look. The exercise was conducted with numerous references to some sort of “hair style Menu” , which looked quite  like an encyclopedia to me, sitting as I was ,far away ,at a respectable distance. After what seemed like ages of planning, the hair dresser and his customer seemed to converge on to a common point of view.

The hair dresser then decided to proceed to the execution phase of the said project. He gathered an impressive arsenal of tools – scissors and combs were the only ones I could recognize. They were all tucked away at numerous pockets of his rather impressive apron. And then the action started.

I had now warmed up to the idea that now  serious action was to unfold , and was all ears and eyes. But even before my eyes could adjust their focal lengths , the hairdresser seemed to indulge in an elaborate ritual after which a few, yes, just a few, strands of hair, were cut, following which the instruments were put away ceremoniously ! I seriously thought that this must be a precursor to more action packed wielding of the instruments I alluded to earlier. However, it so turned out that the deed  was indeed over !

I mean, all he did was to trim a wee little bit- I gathered even I could have done that ! My thoughts swirled about trying to understand the nuances of his profession where 3 minutes of actual cutting was preceded by 30 minutes of planning and negotiations. Amidst that swirling cloud of abstract theories  came the question “ How does my haircut look ?” .

“What haircut ?” I blurted out ?” I mean was that really  a haircut ?” Could you not have trusted me to do that myself ?

I soon realized that one should never respond to a lady’s question with a counter question. And never ,ever, with more than  one !

Scissors and Monkey Caps

Life continues to trot along at  merry pace and it has been a while that I have blogged about anything worthwhile. Actually that is the problem- to establish what is really “worthwhile “.In the quest for a big bang, worthwhile story, the small details of life has somehow slipped by.

One reason for abandoning the blogging ship for a while has been the terrifying prospect of being hauled up by uncle Sibal for any impropriety I might dare to create( even inadvertently) , which would hurt the sensibilities of us sensitive folks and in particular the delicate feelings of a certain family who is very important for this country. I am mighty scared of uncle Sibal and his fearsome scissors, and have no intentions of taking on his might and “aadesh” ! Thus I, lay low for a while to escape his wrath !

Meanwhile , life  seems to be working like a well oiled machinery all these months, going about its  business of , well, being life !

The traffic in Gurgaon is still the same. They have made quite a few of the roads one way, which has now dramatically added to the excitement of driving. You now have the added thrill of watching out for folks who still drive the wrong way in these so called one way streets, but now with lights on at high beam, blinkers on and with  horns blaring. Perchance you dare  not give way to these mighty mortals, your vocabulary is generously increased with the latest and most colorful words of admonishment. I suspect most of these folks are in a tearing hurry to reach Anna Hazare’s campaign to fight corruption, and once I realize the nobility of the cause, I meekly step away and give them the right of way !

Winters are giving way to spring and one is now often caught in the mind numbing dilemma of whether to put on your cap or not , and if you are a Bengali, whether to put on your monkey cap or not. The monkey cap as a fashion accessory and winter necessity is kept alive primarily by the denizens of the aforesaid state. You simply cannot miss them- they being prolific travelers and tourists- complete with monkey cap and a muffler ,no matter where they go !

They have started a new FM station here which plays English music and for a change it feels nice now to have a choice .Most other stations feed you a steady dose of Powwa "charaoafied" Cheekni Chameli, heavy breathing Ooo laa laa and the most philosophical Kolaveri Di. Make no mistakes, I simply love these gems, it is only that too much of a good thing is sometimes not so good !

It is a Donkey's World !

After almost a year old hiatus from blogging I decided to check if any words could still be produced which could at the least be qualified to be of the creative variety ! The good ole' writer's block came up as a convenient prop, the lack of worthy and heavy topics to write about probably strengthened the belief that indeed there is really no worthy issue to drone about ! Or so I thought. Till donkeys struck like a bolt from the blue !

Overnight, “donkey” has become a stylish ,almost cool, word to express derision or ridicule. Of course, I here have no reference to the animal in question,for whom I do possess sufficient levels of admiration,much more probably than I do for many a creature of my own species. I am referring here in particular to the term “donkey” as used as a term of derision ,ridicule or criticism. And all thanks to a bloke who has got “ass” spelled both forwards and backwards in his name – now go figure that out yourself !

I am not sitting on any judgment here on whether our famous cricketers deserve this reclassification of their biological status-I leave that to the cricket pundits and the nationalists to sort that issue out. I wish to stay comfortably neutral on the said topic. I am sure the fire and the passion are intense on either side, and as always, I always wish for the stronger side to win .

But I do marvel at the universal unification of the diverse world of cricket and animal welfare. I don't see a day far off when Maneka Gandhi will become the chairwoman of the BCCI, as the “players” of both the kingdoms are seemingly coming together faster than you could say “what ho “! You had one player reclassified as a monkey some while back, and before the esteemed animal ( the two legged one or the four legged one-your take!) could fathom the significance of this nomenclature, you had now others being classified as donkeys ! And the classification being rendered by none other than someone who is probably completely confused about his own status in the animal kingdom in any case; the closest connection , as I mentioned above already, is the honorable presence of the word “ass” spelt both ways in his name !!

Thankfully “donkeygate” did not clash for the attention of my shallow attention span as the Anna event, as I do have a problem of digesting weighty issues if thrust on me concurrently ! I attribute that to my lack of intake of green leafy vegetables when I was in my formative years due to which the mental faculties still remain generally incapable of multiple processing .Thankfully,as the events were sequential in their unfolding, I had ample time to masticate in my own mental pace at the movement spearheaded by Anna. While I do offer all my support and admiration for the gritty gentleman, I also can't help wonder if we are all under the impression that corruption is all external to ourselves, that we are all victims of it but none of us are participants ! Don't we all like to drive the wrong way in a one way traffic,even to Anna's rally, and if the cop does manage to catch us, don't we try to wriggle out , somehow, even at a “cost” ? Maybe it is a small thing-but – are we talking here about “chalta hain” corruption and “ big bucks” corruption ? Who draws the line, and where ?

Methinks I should come back to the donkey episode-this piece is showing ominous signs of getting serious !

Writer's Block

I am having a serious bout of what may be termed as “Writers Block “. I just cannot ,for the life of me, find an issue worth writing about ! A maniac realization has started creeping over my faculties that perhaps all is well with the world and all that has to be written about anything has been written already and there is nothing new to write about !

I look around myself and find that all grave issues have already been discussed threadbare and solutions galore have been proposed. The rains have poured all the cats and dogs for the next 10 years already, and nobody wants to hear anything about the roads anyway. Even the chief minister has given up on the Gurgaon roads and is now talking about "Pod Taxis" which would somehow hop, skip and jump from A to B.

I refuse to write about the Commonwealth games in reverence to the great Mani uncle, whose ardent admirer I have become by now. I wanted to explore the thrills and excitement of the trials on the dedicated traffic lanes for the CWG but one look at the forlorn look of my colleagues at office who have started appearing at rather odd hours makes the ink of my writing pen dry up faster than a sponge can absorb water ! Since I don’t drive to my office –I have the luxury of being able to walk to it – I have not been sensitized to the thrills of CWG trials ! Can''t write much about it, then !

I wanted to write about Obama Bhaiya also, commending on his astute statesmanship in making American companies more competitive in the global market by going after outsourcing .I almost wrote a sequel to “One Night @ The call centre" where Manju alias Michelle no longer has to explain to a citizen of God’s Own Country that his computer will not work unless he puts the darned power chord in the darned plug, the explanation done over copious exchanges of information involving the serial number, the operating system, the Hard disk capacity and the weather at Ohio; the bit about the power plug being discussed only at the fag end. But then I decided against writing about it because Chetan Bhagath would be rather unhappy if, I of all people, wrote a sequel to his novel, and what about Vidhu Vinod Chopra- would he really give me due credits when he would make a movie out of this ? Nah ! It was getting too complicated and besides, other than the thunderous acceptance speech that Obama Bhaiya gave after he won the elections, practiced and rehearsed over many years I am sure, there is not much that can be written about him !

I then turned to the entertainment industry and lo and behold, there was Sallu Bhai in his “Chhichhora” best . He broke all box office records and for once I thought that he has now found his true calling under the sun, that of an entertainer ,after having done with bouts of creating controversies either with his fist, his mouth, his gun or his SUV.But just as I was about the start writing the paean, he went about giving discourses on 26/11 and I then got confused .There went another topic out of the window.

Damn my writers block !! I need to break free of it !

"Spot on"- Uncle Mani !!

It’s been a while since I last blogged. In an attempt to break the lofty traditions of glorious inconsistency , I have been feebly trying to put thoughts into words for quite a while. The proverbial distance between the cup and the Sip simply kept on increasing !

Quite a lot of water has flown under lots of bridges in the last couple of months. Personally I had the tragedy of my Father passing away in July. Death, although inevitable and a certainty which no one can wish away at some point of time , has a way of reminding the fragility and finiteness of life. It brought home, to me at least, the fact that we are a minuscule event in the giant cycle of endlessness-our own lives but small journeys from point A to B, to be concluded, while the grand scheme of things has a much more grander agenda. The journey from A to B is best lived as fully and as lively as possible, without taking life too seriously !

Lately, thanks to facebook, primarily, I have been witness to a very intense phase of “reconnection to old friends” ,mostly from the college days ! This seems to have increased lately in Geometric Progression and I am definitely thrilled about this ongoing phase of buddy rediscovery ! It is nice to reconnect to folks after good 20 years or so, and very satisfying to note that you are not the only one afflicted with an increasing girth in the wrong places! . Also satisfying to note the increasing “face value” of the chappies, the increasing value rendered by a hairline which refuses to maintain status-quo with the passage of time. And equally shocking to note a few souls who by some strange quirk of nature seemed not to have changed a bit- yes, this species too exists !

The rains have created havoc in the “minimum” city that I reside in- the craters in the roads larger than many of the cars that try to ride over them. I have declared to my son that the Martians are about to land in Gurgaon and the craters are a conscious attempt by the administration to provide them a homely feeling when their aircraft lands. With common wealth games around the corner, you do anything to give meaning and life to “Atithi Devo Bhaba” ! He is a happy man now and looks at each crater with interest and we don’t crib about them any more .

The Common wealth games have of course created immense wealth to motley crowd of politicians, officials, bureaucrats and businessmen. I have nothing more to add to what has been already been said. Of course, I had to develop a grudging respect for our great Mani Uncle- it was he who was the spoilsport from the very beginning. While I never admired his slimy ways, I had to concede that he was bang on this time, when he advised folks to stay miles away from the Wealthy games !

Rahman’s music too seemed to have got afflicted with the mediocrity that has come to reflect the games. My very personal opinion after hearing the theme song is that he has been and is, capable of much more creativity . This is strictly my personal opinion, mind you, and I don’t mean to disrespect those who for some reasons might actually like the song and naturally take umbrage at my “distorted” sense of music !

Maybe we expected too much ? We always do, huh ?

Stiff Upper Lip

I have been toying with the idea of doing something constructive with my life- you know like learning new things, going to new places, rediscovering oneself, so to speak.Some of the options crossing my mind include learning Thai Kickboxing, playing the banjo, bungee jumping,ice skating -you know, something really exiting and bindaas,which would give me a complete image makeover. Yes ! An image makeover is what I am aspiring for now ; enough of living life in the ignominy of predictable mundane half witted existence that characterise mortal life ,more so if you are the hoi polloi

Image makeover ,experts have opined, is not the easiest of goals to achieve.Especially at an age where the personal characteristics-physical, mental and emotional-are already stamped and sealed,at least to the outside world.You are always preceded by your image-in society,in your office, in the bar-wherever ! "Aha… here comes the bald man with the round belly who is an insufferable moron who is no good and who has just not made it !" Or maybe here comes the hunk who is an 8 abs wonder with 8 micro gram of grey matter tucked somewhere in the knees but who has a gorgeous lady for company ! Or here comes Chatur who can rattle off encyclopedia Britannica at the drop of your hat, can snortle at your ignorance and who can teach you a thing or two about advanced calculus without really understanding what it all means ! You see what I am driving at-the reputation or images of these gentlemen precede their arrival on the scene .Typically, you would not imagine the hulk to be reading "The Theory of Relativity" during bedtime, nor would you imagine the fellow with the beer belly frolicking in the company of gorgeous ladies . You would stick to the stereotype.

Therefore, it becomes significantly important in life to work towards an image makeover.It does wonders to your self esteem,besides reigning in your self compos,and providing a much needed dose of healthy wonderment and excitement. Oh Boy! The joy of watching someone eat his own words when he realises that he is actually talking to B when he thought he was talking to A while B is a later manifestation of A and A and B in spirits and person are the same person and A became B because he wanted to do an image makeover ! What fun these simple predicaments can provide !

Coming to image makeovers, I am informed that the easiest and the shortest way to success is to cultivate the Stiff Upper Lip ! Yes, Jeeves might have taught Bertie Wooster a thing or two about the stiff upper lip, but I am nor really referring to the Angreji version here. I am alluring more to the Desi version, where a stiff upper lip is something you develop when you suddenly become superior in life. Maybe it is a promotion, or a material success, or even a feigned ascent up the social ladder. The trick involves suddenly walking with your nose a good two inches higher in the air, and generally ignoring all and sundry that your were bum-chums with even till yesterday ! You strut around with an extremely superior air around you and stop responding to greetings and being called by your name. You " look through" people when you cross them, and make a slight click with your heels after the crossing is over.You have no inclination to acknowledge that the other human being is also, well, a human being and the look you give him, even if perchance, is one that you would reserve for the tiniest ant that ventured your way.

And thus your image changeth over !

Once Upon a Time ....

Once upon a time there was no mobile phone.
There was no way then that someone could check your whereabouts with a "where are you" call or SMS (“Where the hell are you" if the tracer is a loved one).Going to the bar really meant freedom to drink at will and to let the creative side of your brain create the most convincing alibis to explain that you were miles away from the bar! Today, even if you ignore the call or SMS, technically you are still traceable within a resolution of 1 square meter and that holds true even if you dip the phone in a large pitcher of beer.

You also had the thrilling experience of booking a trunk call if you wanted to speak to someone in some other town or city. Your success or failure of getting the "trunk call" materialize depended either on how loudly you barked the order while booking the call , or how much sexy you managed to sound , depending on the gender and digestive status of the operator taking the booking. The excitement of waiting and jumping at the expected ring of the phone could be matched only by the sudden appearance of the operators voice in the middle of your animated cooing once the 3 minute slab would get over, asking..umm..err..barking if you wanted to extend .

Night life had a much more exciting meaning then when phone rates were halved after 10 pm.The ability to talk cheap, with an operator listening in to your intimate conversation, while a hundred people lined up outside the public call office (PCO) all praying and wishing that the telephone chord strangled you for talking so long-all added up to a night life much more exciting than the predictable IPL parties that you have nowadays!

Once upon a time, there was no cable TV.
You did not have to fall off the chair due to any "Breaking News" informing you that Shahrukh Khan's Cat eloped with Mamata Banerjee's dog. You did not have to reach for the deodorant when the enlightened panel discussion dwelled on the sweat (equity) given by a minister to his fair friend. You did not necessarily believe that you could have been a grasshopper in your previous life as there was no hypnotizing voice suggesting anything to that effect to anyone. You did not hear thousands of singers who seemingly sing better than the original singers and you did not think that dancing was an extreme adventure sport with a statutory warning not to practice it at home preceding the dance programs. You remained pretty naive about the love between the saas and the bahu and you of course never saw any wardrobe malfunction. You were a step behind in the evolutionary progression of mankind and you remained happy with a bi weekly Chitrahaar . Krishi Darshan was the closest you came across as adult content on TV.

Once upon a time there was only the Ambassador Car.
You had to be incredibly rich and influential to own and drive one. Driving one was a test of character and muscle, and only the most gifted could go from point A to point B without losing sanity, hair or a combination of both. The front seat was way more romantic than today's darned bucket seats, provided you knew the difference between the gear and the pretty lady cozying up to you in the single piece seat. Life was ever so much more exciting-your brakes could fail, your gears could get jammed, your engine could fall off on a steep downhill drive and you did have the possibility of experiencing going left and right at the same instance of time and space.

And then once upon a time there were people who did not write insane blogs :)

Tweeter takes over the world

Tweeter has taken over the World.

All of a sudden, you have kingdoms crumbling through a "tweet" . You have accusations, counter accusations, explanations, demands, exclamations, exasparations; all being tweeted away by the high and mighty, by the dull and sundry! And there are millions (I am told) who are lapping it all up -gleefully! You have film stars tweeting away letting you know when they are doing the undescribable, you have ministers tweeting away banal and sundry details , you have other ministers and politicians who have no clue what tweeting is all about also climbing the "tweeting" bandwagon saying something or the other about tweeting ! At this rate, "tweet" is soon going to replace the most common four letter word which so far has been indispensible and irreplaceable.

Few samples of common phrases in the tweeted world when the mighty four letter word is taken over by the mightier five letter word, tweet - "What the tweet!!”, when you are surprised, "I got Tweeted by the car dealer" to express fraud, "Tweet You" to express aggression, "He tweeted up again" to express incompetence,” what the Tweet is going on here?" to explain displeasure, etc, etc.

You get the gist, I presume! A little birdie told me that all the "tweeting" controversies are actually funded by tweeter-it is a part of their advertising budget.

While Tweet is still an English word which I understand, my aging grey cells have given up on some of the newer terms and phrases which have popped up. Take "Sweat Equity" for instance. Despite all my research, I have not been able to understand "Sweat Equity”. But I am sure it is a big and important thing because a minister had to go because of this ungodly smelly thing called sweat equity .Before you can say thundering typhoons I am sure they will come up with a matching term like body odour debt or something equally serious and alarming! God save the person who then gets caught giving about body odour debts to beautiful women ! I do feel morose at times at my lack of understanding of these contemporary terms and phrases and I attribute this to the global warming which is drying up my grey cells! You know, one always likes to keep up with the Jones in terms of intellectual exchanges of opinions at the water cooler, but how the "tweet" does one talk intellectually about Sweat Equity??

And while I am sweating it out in the unbearable Delhi heat, I am planning to have my own tweeter account today! I do need to keep up with the Jones, sweaty or otherwise!

Reality thy name is Sansani

It was an usual Monday afternoon lunch at the office with some colleagues. The Monday Blues had typically been replaced by weekly bewilderment by the time lunch time manifested itself.There were few people going about with purposeful looks on their faces- grim determined looks radiating confidence and purpose, while a majority of the populace had the bewildered look which I allured to earlier. Amongst the din the TV on the wall was showing images of the "breaking news" of one of the Sansani channels-the news reader exuding dollops of suspense and sensations pulsating with a ear splitting high pitched voice. The overall effect would have made Ramsay Brothers proud- but that's probably also the reason why Ramsay brothers have stopped making horror films- they got replaced by sansani news !

The news grab was showing the "debate" on the Women's Reservation Bill to be presented to the parliament.The camera zeroed in to some "parliamentarians" shouting , thumping their desks and jumping over each other ,which were followed by exciting scenes of objects being hurled. I could make out some of the objects as microphones, paper sheaf's, etc. Something flew real fast which almost looked like a chair.I could never be sure on that one ! Maybe it was a table !

My colleague remarked that if he had his way, he would enforce a "seat belt" system in the parliament- belts which would get locked once the esteemed parliamentarian would manage to squeeze his/her rear into the seat and which would get opened only at the end of the day .I hastened to remind him that that would possibly make parliamenatry debates less exciting and pave way for the return of Ramsay Brother films, and he had to then chose his piece of entertainment- he could not have both ! The purposeful look on his face was instantly replaced by the bewildered one , and he quietly went about playing with his lunch.

Speaking of TV shows, if sansani news ( they call it insightful news) were the creme de la creme of all entertainment programs, they are closely followed by the reality shows on air these days. "What about Saas -Bahu shows?" you ask me. "Nah…they ain't interesting any more. A little bird told me that all the Saas and Bahus worldwide have made peace with each other and all that oozes out when they cross each other's path is kindness and love, with no evidence of animosité being manifested at all . Thus, the Saas Bahu shows could not sustain any more, and reality TV has replaced the same". Ekta Kapoor is currently jobless.

Today you have reality shows on anything- your imagination is the only limit."Musical Talent Hunts" , "Past Life Investigations " ( I badly wanted to take part in one but they refused me on suspicious grounds), " Dance competitions ", "Bone Breaking competitions" , "Dating Shows ", "Dating Catastrophes shows", "Swayamvar" show ( ones in which no body gets married eventually) "Swayamvar" shows ( ones in which some marries all or all marries someone), "divorce shows", "pre divorce shows", "post divorce shows", etc, etc. Coming soon, I believe, are "Fired from jobs" shows, "Shiny Bald Head Talent Search" shows, "Future Life Investigation" shows, "Bathroom Idols" show,"Size Zero to Size 10" shows(Kareena kapoor is the hostess for the Size 10 show ),"Office Politics" show( they search for the most slimy top gun) ,"Kitchen Fights" shows and "Best Cows in the Traffic "reality show.

I have expressed my willingness to participate in any of the above shows, in the either capacity of participant or host . I have approached all the production houses and am currently waiting for my big break ! After so many years, I have realized that that is the job I really want to do - the calling of my liking !

The Light,and the Fight !

It's been now almost a month since I last posted any blog. Caught up in the business of life the thoughts ,albeit rampant, never materialized into the bits and bytes of the written word. Swirling thoughts popped up only to get buried in the mundane absurdities of a life going about it's daily business of existence.

While most thoughts never quite made it to this article, a few did ! And in no particular order :

The High Beam ! Yes, I wish the beam of my car was higher and stronger than all other cars. This is prompted by the fact that my driving sanity gets reduced to a pulp the moment I set out to drive at night. I normally keep my headlights on low beam, as is I guess expected in any City Driving. But very soon I start wishing for the most powerful, the most "high" light source to be available in my car. Usually the sequence of events is as follows: (a) The opposite driver is coming at me with all his lights blazing ! (b) I signal by flicking my lights in an attempt to appeal to his good senses to keep the beam low (c) My signals have absolutely no effect on the resolute proponent of the high beam(d) I start wishing that my car had a battery of lights which I could switch on, then, and scare the living daylights of the oncoming driver !
The other day, Pappu was sitting with me in the passenger seat when he was witness to my demeanor changing from the normal to the insane . On being prodded, I told him that I get irritated when people drive on high beams right even in a well lit road !

Pappu could not believe that I actually drove with my lights low by default ! He was aghast at my "timidity" and advised me to knock off the low beam switch of the lights. "Arre".. he told me in utmost disgust.."in Delhi,you need to be aggressive when you drive ! Otherwise you will be pushed out of the road !

Success-thy name is controversy ! It is interesting to note some of the recent events when it comes to success and controversy. As soon as 3-idiots was released there was this big hullabaloo about writer credits etc. Personally I was siding Chetan Bhagath, more because I thought the issue was more about grace and humility. Whatever be your thoughts, post controversy, not only did the movie did superbly,but the sale of the book also shot up ! Coincidence ?

This was soon followed by MNIK ,Sharukh Khan and the various Senas ! While the whole controversy was at it's peak, the TV stations increased their TRPs, the Newspapers did not have to search for a catchy headline and the Sena got a heavy dose of coverage,not to mention the awesome opening which the film garnered. In the end, they all went laughing to the bank , while you and I took sides ! Coincidence ??

I sorely need a controversy now, to spice things up !

The Republic,and the Fog

The first month of the new year is almost over and the year is now longer new ! I realize that my phone's inbox is still full of "Happy New Year" messages sent during Christmas and New Years' eve, and it's time I deleted them to make some space.I also got a few during the Republic Day, wishing me a "Happy Republic Day". I of course thank the sender for thinking about me and having selected me from his phonebook before pressing the "send" button.

The "Republic" that we live in is of course 60 years old of being a republic, and that is no mean a feat. Not sure how "happy" we are allowed to be while celebrating this day,but frightened and gullible we surely seem to be getting. There are increased warning of "don't go to a mall some loony might blow himself and all of you alongside". Crossing state borders is increasingly difficult because the cops put up amazingly complicated barricades which of course slows you down considerably, but I have my doubts as to how many terrorists have they really nabbed this way ! Some trains were late by as much as 30 hours- they were advised not to travel during the night as someone feared that some other loonies might blow up the tracks. I am not being cynical about these efforts- human life is indeed precious and anything that can help lives to be saved , however ancient, however imperfect, however inefficient, is definitely worth the effort ! So that we can all live and wish each other "Happy Republic Day" and "Happy Independence Day " the next time too.

The other topic which took some prominence in the month of January is the dreaded Delhi fog.Conversations would always veer towards how intense the fog has been this time ! Many maintained that this was the Worst ever; it so happens that this train of thought is usually repeated every year by the proponents of these thoughts. Animated discussions happened over whether you could see ahead of an arm or ahead of the nose ! Airlines go bonkers and the blasted CAT III never works - it was never meant to , anyway ! There is always a sense of excitement and impending calamity - this particular feeling espoused by many a office goers who secretly hope that the dark fog may engulf the office building in such a blanket of impenetrability that no mortal can enter the premises for a good one month, at least . This feeling is usually the strongest between 7 to 8 am,every day, after which resignation to fate sets in .

Let's see what February has in store.May the cellphone operaters beat their last years sales from messages spreading " Happy Valentines' Day ".We don't seem to be having a "Pink Chaddi Campaign" this year- perhaps more exciting events are in store !!

A Few Good Heads

"Papa, why are you bald?" my 8 year old son asked with innocent curiosity .

I was left groping for an appropriate reply which could satisfy his curiosity.Various thoughts flashed across my mind- androgenic alopecia,alopecia areata,alopecia totalis, alopecia universalis,etc,etc The grey cells effortlessly churned out various technical terms, symptoms, cause effects, etc, etc.I was on familiar grounds on these technicalities and I was about to rattle out the information when it struck me that probably none of these would really answer the "why" part of the question rendered earlier.

Baldness,after all, is something that the best minds in science have not been able to conquer,yet ! Many a fine heads went completely bald trying to figure out a solution to this eternal question; a mystery which hasn't been solved yet.

The onset of baldness is always accompanied by a sense of abject and complete denial.The phenomenon initially manifests itself in the form of some stray hair found in pillows and combs.The subject ( a term which we will use to describe the person who is afflicted) tends to initially ignore the phenomenon altogether and on increase of severity, usually maintains that the he is not the owner of the said hair and sometimes tends to attribute the presence to subnormal and paranormal happenings.

Some "subjects" maintain this demeanour silently while others are more vocal about this. They reject the notion outright and any other person suggesting that indeed the hair loss could be attributable to the "subject" can sometimes be subjected to violent outbursts of denials . "It just can't happen to me", maintains the "subject".

The above stage may last a couple of years, after which comes the stage of grim realization. This is when the "subject" starts realizing that his combs are running rather easily through his head, and dimly lit rooms get somewhat lighter when they enter such rooms, the natural laws of reflection having started to take effect by now.This stage is further characterized by mood swings, mournful sighs and bland looks at nothingness. The search engines start cranking , and the Internet ,the library and all other information sources are searched meticulously for a panacea.

The subsequent stage is one of hope. This is where the "subject" believes whole-heartedly that there "must" be a cure for this.Even if it hasn't worked for the whole humanity, the subject firmly believes that "he" is different and all medicines which did not work for anyone will surely work for him. That is when the medical economy gets a hearty boost, and any pill or potion which promises any sort of hair revival get their sales numbers met.Some subjects go through this stage surreptitiously while others are more forthcoming and their attempts visible.No medicine is spared, no oil is left untouched, and no advertisements from " Miracle Hair Growth Center" is unread .

The branded and advertised pills and potions are used interchangeably with "home remedies" suggested by various good Samaritans. These can get pretty elaborate and I shall spare you the details. Suffice to say that common ingredients includes eggs,onions, lemons, cucumber,ginger,chillies, etc. The "subject" is by this time best left unmonitored and uncontrolled , as failure to do so results in unpredictable repercussions.

All this while, the dimly lit rooms which I mentioned earlier now get considerably brighter when the subject enters the same. The combs are rarely needed now,although the subject still possesses and uses one.

The following stage is akin to that of salvation, or "moksha" . By now, the "subject" throws away the pills and potions. Various theories espousing the fashion worthiness of male baldness does the rounds including one which maintains that some bald males are attractive to women, a theory which has many hopeful takers amongst the males but has not been proven yet.Flattering similarities with Yul Brynner and others of his ilk are discussed and disseminated.This is a stage of acceptance for some of the subjects ,and passive resignations for the others.

And then to a very few souls, enlightenment strikes, and the answer to the greatest mystery of mankind emerges. Yes, to a very few,select subjects.

I turn to me son and reply "You see, God made a few good heads, and the rest-he covered them with hair ".

My son gave me an incredulous look, nodded his head, and walked away.

The Grand Scheme of Things..

Perchance I happened to flip through albums of old photographs kept tucked away in some remote corners of cupboards not opened very frequently.The act was probably prompted by a sudden desire to go back to the past.Inexplicable and irrational, but these thoughts do appear now and then.

The photographs date way back to my childhood. Digital cameras were not in vogue those days and the photographs had the old world charm of film photographs aging gracefully with time . Aging ??

Yes, the photos are aging ! Some of them have curled up at the corners,while some have got stuck to each other in facing pages of the album.There are some black and white photographs taken while I was probably a toddler. Some of them are now turning Sepia .All of them hold stories of ages gone by, of sunny days and rainy nights, of happy contentment and abject miseries. Stories of days bygone, some distant and almost a blur in the memory, while some still fresh and crisp.

In today's fast paced life, rarely do we get time to get nostalgic. Demands of staying alive today and securing a future often obliterates the past. For some, the past is something best forgotten and done with, while for some it holds many a fond memories .

Faced with the various predicaments of life now, suddenly the past showed me the answer. After all, I did survive yesterday, so there is every probability that I will survive tomorrow as well . I lived through so many years, seen so many smiles, seen so much sadness, so there is every probability that I will continue to do so in the years to come. Our lives are a minuscule event in the grand scheme of things, and if you care to step out of "yourself" just for a while, you will realize that it really does not matter ! To anyone ! Yes, all our sorrows, all our happiness , all our pains, all our bliss- they are just small specks in the endlessness of time and space.

And so, if these things really do not matter,then why worry about them ?

Don't worry.. Be happy !

Oh Kolkata !

The thud of the wheels touching down woke me up from my early morning slumber.The flght was on time and very soon I was standing in the queue for getting a pre-paid taxi .I am coming to Kolkata after a good 6 months and I was looking around for some signs of changes. The Airport looked pretty much the same.Of course there is evidence of some constructions/extensions happening.The typical "government" look was a contrast to the swanky looks of the Delhi Airport.Of course, the "swankiness" of the Delhi airport gets exposed after a good rain, but nonetheless, it looks less "sarkari".

After having hollered my destination to a booking clerk whom I rememeber seeing in the same counter for as long as I can remember, I was thrust a piece of paper which was my ticket to my home. I came out looking for my cab and very soon hopped into one.

The Kolkata taxi is an unique piece of machinary. Some might say that it is not really a machine- it has a life of its own .By make , they are Ambassador cars, made by Hindustan Motors ,and Kolkata is its homeground,so to speak.The Kolkata ambassadors however, are unique that they probabaly are the oldest running fleet of these fine creations by Hindustan Motors. As soon as the engine starts, you get a free session of fat removal by vibration. You are transported into a vibratory world where no two parts of your body are ever moving in the same direction or sequence.Your OSIM massage equipments pale in comparision when considering the vivacity, frequency and effectiveness of the massage thus rendered.

It takes a while to realize that one is still alive, despite the cataclysm ongoing, when one realizes that the term "noise" has altogether a new meaning when you sit inside these taxis.Here you are ungulfed in noise that is alll pervading. Your audimetry test is also done for free, thus, and you could of course sing along just to make sure that your ears are indeed functional.

But they do also transport you from point A to point B, besides the other freebies mentioned above. Alongwith the ride, you also get to see extreme accelartion,braking, honking,manual honking ( Dada..sorben ??) , free racing events where your armourded vehicle overakes a bulbous city bus bursting at its seams and veering at impossible angles.Your adrenalin runs faster than Pink Panther and normally your eyeballs are found to be almost popping out while your bones does the samba with gusto .

Of course, if you survive the above, you also get to see the City and it's denizens. The ultra chic vye for attention with the 18th century and you are never at a point where you do not stay bemused,shocked, happy, angry,frustrated, meditated or simply wonderstruck .

And then you start marvelling at life...