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 ?