Why do Indians crave for the Oscars?

No. This blog does not make any judgment on people’s desire for international recognition. Neither does it underplay the importance of the Academy awards, or the superiority of national recognition.

This is an attempt to understand the psychology behind the crave for international recognition and whether it is rooted in some deep-seated malaise within our society that we seem incapable of noticing, leave alone addressing.

The craving for recognition by our filmmakers does not limit itself to just the Oscars, it extends to any recognition from any international film festival, howsoever obscure. The recognition is then displayed as a stamp of quality of work done by these filmmakers.

And this is where the truth hides!

Why is it that an award received in one of the innumerable award shows in India does not carry as much worth as one award at any international level?

The problem may reside in the brutal compromise of merit that pervades across all these award shows in India. There simply isn’t a mechanism to recognize, appreciate, and reward meritorious work. The award functions have become a ceremony of fraternal back-patting.

There are a few factors for this and I am going to list some of them here:

1. Most of these award shows are sponsored by a corporate house which has interests in the industry itself
2. The award shows simply fail to include non-popular work known more commonly as ‘art movies’ in their consideration set
3. The focus is more on the dance and song routines to build TRP ratings than on the “awards”
4. Popular voting: where every tom, dick, and harry, mostly ignorant of the art of filmmaking gets to have a say in the awards 

There are probably a lot more reasons, but the above factors, I believe, play a far more important and detrimental role in the merit of the awards. When merit is compromised, the charm of the awards for the filmmakers disappears as quickly.

The Oscars, or other international awards, unlike the indigenous ones, place a high importance on the merit of the art. Of course, some of the decisions of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences have been disputed in the past, but none of them have been extrapolated to doubt the credibility of the process itself in awarding merit. The nominees’ work is so exceptional that picking one over the other becomes a matter of academic opinion. Indeed, to be nominated itself is considered a remarkable achievement by the artists in Hollywood.

Merit in India, in the present circumstances, is a far-fetched idea because of its socio-political circumstances. Not just in movie awards, but the vehement decimation of merit has spread across education, jobs, promotions, arts, literature, music and academia also.

Various reasons to subdue merit are professed and are followed relentlessly – caste, language, gender, pedigree, dynasty, affluence, class etc.

It is no wonder that Indians in general do not trust the systems in place within the country to recognize talent. We constantly look outside for an external confirmation of our abilities as we have come to believe that external systems place far more worth on merit than the considerations listed above.

If we need to start making any progress, we would need to create a generation that is energetic, enthusiastic, and confident; we need a generation that believes in its abilities to make a mark and take India to greater heights; we need a system where the brilliant shine and where mediocrity is abhorred; we need a country that values merit over everything else.

The question is – do we have the courage?

Why e-retail is struggling in India?

Last half a decade in India has seen the emergence of a number of e-retail websites who have with much gusto and fanfare tried to establish their presence among the buyers in India. Indeed, these e-retail sites are now peddling anything from a baby diaper to a computer to expensive jewelry to designer clothes. While the industry of e-retail has seen a variety in the kind of items being sold, it has also simultaneously witnessed equally varied business models. 

While on one end of the spectrum, we have http://www.flipkart.com that functions like a supermarket, only online, and on the other end we have http://www.olx.com that facilitates consumers to buy and sell stuff among themselves. Somewhere in between we have sites like http://www.ebay.in that connect buyers to sellers but don't take any responsibility of delivery, nor have any control over what products sell in which categories.

But one thing is common across all the e-retail websites. It is their failure in getting customers to use their websites to purchase items.

An argument often given is that e-retail space is extensively commodified and that customers usually don’t differentiate one site from another. The result is that customer loyalty for a specific e-retail website is very low. As a consequence, each e-retail website now invests a large amount in marketing itself so that their brands enjoy a greater recall among customers.

However, the benefits of such heavy investments into marketing haven’t been forthcoming. The customer base hasn’t equally risen with investments in marketing. As a result, most of the e-retail companies are incurring heavy losses.

It is not as if there isn’t a significant population of India that has access to the Internet. It is not that the population that is online is averse to spending money either. Typically, internet penetration is greater among the more affluent classes than in the lower socio-economic groups. Yet, a general lack of online purchase activity persists.

The problem, in my opinion, doesn’t lie with the Internet medium or with the e-retail vendors, or with the customer base etc. either. It lies elsewhere in a completely different socio-cultural dimension.

There exists a general deficit of trust in India, especially in financial transactions. We don’t trust our business partners to deliver on their commitments. Similarly, we don’t trust our shopkeepers to deliver honestly on their promises. We believe that when given a choice our shopkeepers would rather stick us an inferior product or an incomplete order.

That legal recourse is long-winded and often people-unfriendly only increases the risk that buyers face.

That’s why we don’t even home-order vegetables and fruits. We are sure the vendor will pack some inferior quality products and sell to us if we don’t do a due diligence on the items before paying for them.

It is this deficit of trust that plays a big role in defining the behavior of Indian customers online.

The Internet is a vast unknown space and the identity of the persons on the Internet is not always visible to everyone. The passive nature of interaction over the Internet makes it easier for pranksters, fraudsters, and criminals to misrepresent their identities and take advantage of gullible people.

Under these circumstances, an average Indian buyer feels very uncomfortable with the idea of giving away money for a thing that she has not inspected or palpated to someone she has not seen, met, or spoken to.

Not that an average Indian likes to even consider the possibility of taking a legal recourse in case of a dispute. Courts and judiciary are perceived with much dread and suspicion.

Therefore, the Indian customer chooses to avoid transacting over the Internet altogether.

Some of the e-retail websites have identified this problem and their communication has already started assuaging these concerns of their customers. For example, most e-retail companies are already offering ‘Cash-on-delivery’ payment options, money-back guarantees, and free replacements.

Are these steps sufficient to wipe out the trust deficit? Only time will tell.

Until then effort must remain towards winning the trust of the customers relentlessly and ensuring that under no circumstances the trust gets eroded. Only then would Indian e-retail companies will see a boost in their growth.

The simple truth

Without meritocracy, there is no sense of worth. Without sense of worth, there is no pride. Without pride, there is no respect. Without respect, there is corruption. With corruption, the country goes to dogs.

Definition of 'Brand'

'Brand': Consistent delivery of promised value.

The key word is 'Consistent'. The 'value' can be anything. It is not important that 'value' be 'high' or 'best' or any other positive superlative. In fact, the value could be an honest admission that the goods or services are at best 'mediocre'.
What is however important is how consistently does the seller deliver the said value to the customer. The more consistently the seller delivers the promised value the stronger is the brand.
Therefore, it is important for companies to ensure that the 'value' they convey to the customers is delivered without fail irrespective of the underlying product or service.

Time To Market

It is often drilled into our heads that it is important for a business to reduce its Time To Market (TTM) or the time to take a product from conception to the market for sales. True, but we are also told that contrary to the popular notion, TTM is more important for market followers than first movers. This is where there is something grossly counter-intuitive for me in the aforementioned theory. According to me, TTM is very important for the first-in-the-market players but not so much for the later entrants.

Any entrepreneur who is building a new product which is the first of its kind is inherently taking a lot of risk. The risk not only exists in terms of investment of money, time, and effort, but also gets amplified owing to any reasonable proof of concept in the market. One can never be really sure about how customers in the market are going to receive one's first-of-a-kind product because, well, the customers haven't seen anything like it before. The more one tries to "perfect" the product, the more investment is required, and therefore the more risk one faces.

Now imagine that while one was still in the process of building the said product, a competitor introduces a similar product in the market. There could be the following scenarios:

	Inferior Competitor Product	Superior Competitor Product
Market Accepts	No risk; immediate product release	Very high risk - make product better and release immediately
Market Rejects	Lower risk - Make product better and release after some time	Risk avoided - can divert investment to some other product

As you can see, in 3 out of 4 scenarios, the risk for the second entrant is lower than what it was before the competitor released the product. The risk is lowered because the late entrants have the luxury of "proof of concept" that the market leader did not have. Therefore, the TTM becomes less important for them than if they were still in the fray to be the first one to introduce the product.

The risk however does increase significantly if the competitor's product is superior to one's own current product and has already been accepted by the market. It becomes imperative then to invest more into the product to make it AT LEAST AS GOOD AS THE COMPETITOR'S before taking it to the market AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

The TTM in this case becomes extremely important. It however does not overshadow the need to make the product better. Taking a substandard product to the market when customers already have the option of a better one, will be suicidal for any business.

On a concluding note, I would like to highlight the 'GOOD' in the "at least as good as the competitor's" statement above. Invariably, the notion of good is associated with the concept of "value for money". The operative word being value. The notion of value is intrinsically linked to target customer segment, price, promotion, and channels (the 4Ps, if you will).

For a business owner, it becomes important to immediately assess the value that the competitor's product is trying to provide and therefore re-calibrate the value that one may choose to provide instead. Several businessmen caught in the top right corner of the box above end up immediately releasing their offerings at a different price, or to a different customer segment, or through different channels. Soon enough, they end up creating a different positioning in the minds of customers and are rarely bracketed in the same category as their competitors.

Some interesting examples of market followers who arrived late and yet overshadowed the market leaders:
1. Microsoft Windows vs MacOS
2. Facebook vs Orkut
3. Google vs Altavista
4. Google Chrome vs Internet Explorer
5. Toyota vs Ford

Principles of Influence

How to influence your customers (or followers) to build a relationship with you? There are five ways in which the customer may get influenced. (ref: Robert Cialdini's principles of influence)

1.   Reciprocity  - You have done a favour on the customer, so he/she will do this favour on you

2. Social proof – Everyone is building a relationship with you, therefore the customer too must

3. Authority – An authoritative figure/expert/respected person/celebrity/government endorses you, so the customer must build a relationship with you

4. Likeability – Customer likes you, so builds a relationship with you

5. Commitment and consistency - Customer believes that you are equally committed to the (financial/political/social/relgious etc.) cause of the customer, so he/she builds a relationship with you. "Enemy's enemy is my friend" is an example of this principle.
6. Scarcity - Your service is scarce. It is now or never.

The path of truth

"Ye ishq nahi aasaan; aag ka dariya hai aur doob ke jaana hai"

This is an oft-repeated line in the social, literary, and entertainment industry in India. Loosely translated, it means that the path of love is not easy, almost akin to a river of fire through which one must immerse oneself fully to go forward.

The concept of "ishq" unlike the most popular connotation associated with it - the one that exists between two unrelated and intimate individuals - is instead a vast concept that can embody love for anything and anyone, even God.

Saints are said to have claimed to be "aashiqs" of the Almighty. Shayars, on the other hand, are said to have proclaimed their "ishq" for liquor. The basic idea, it seems to me, is that of a unadulterated, deeply passionate love for an entity.

The relentless pursuit of one's object of love, as many would have me believe, is fraught with innumerable hardships and that only the most devoted souls will have the courage to overcome them to meet their objectives. Many would fail, I am told, but those who do succeed are said to be truly blessed by the Almighty.

To me, however, this picture is incomplete. If I were to indulge in unfair means to secure the object of my love then would it justify my actions? Does the end justify the means?

I don't think so.

The difficulty in the path of love seems to arise not out of the goal of "love", but out of the "path" itself. There probably are more than one ways to pursue love, some good and some bad, but it is the path that one chooses that decides whether that pursuit of love is revered for ages to come.

As I ponder more about it, I realize that through the timeless love stories we celebrate and idolize not the "love" but the path that was chosen to pursue it.

This path is the path of truth. I will resist from using subjective terms such as good, moral, right etc. Truth in itself is absolute.

Following the path of truth and standing firm on it, as Raja Harishchandra had done, is what I respect. It requires great courage, I believe, to speak, hear and bear the consequences of truth. Lying perhaps is an easier option that I have often chosen to wriggle myself out of situations where the consequences of telling the truth would have been uncomfortable.

Following the path of truth is not equivalent to leading an honest life. In fact, honesty, is a consequence of truthfulness. Again, I would refrain from using subjective terms such as virtuous, moral, pious etc. Honesty, just like Truth, is an absolute entity that cannot be moulded according to one's own interpretation.

To lead one's life with absolute, dedicated, and passionate pursuit of truth while seeking one's objective is what I would call the path of "true love".

A Difficult Choice

Sankaran had a difficult decision to make. He was looking directly into the picture of his long-dead parents, his eyes almost begging forgiveness for even considering the idea his parents would have taken strong offence against at the slightest mention. All this time he diligently avoided meeting the gaze of Lord Murugan, his beloved deity, staring down at him from the painting atop the little shelf on which perched the photos and paintings of all the Gods and Goddesses that he had grown up worshipping.

The house of Sankaran on Vali street of Thangagramam was a picture in contrast. Among the row of little brick huts, that formed the landscape of this most neglected part of the village, Sankaran’s house was a pathetic mud structure, its roof half-covered with leaves and thatches, and the door ordained by a modest-sized symbol of his faith – ॐ. The doors of other houses, on the other hand, displayed large crosses proudly declaring their occupants’ embrace of a faith that claimed to bring them salvation from all the miseries that they had been brought up in and didn’t foresee an escape from in any imaginable future.

Sankaran belonged to the lowliest of all castes in the village’s society – a scavenging caste that, though central to the village eco-system, was always discriminated against. People of his caste were never included in any of the village festivals; they were banned from using common public spaces and utilities, and were not even allowed entry inside the village temple – the only abode of the Lord in whose eyes all men and women, as Sankaran had often heard as a little kid from his parents, were equal and worthy.

The Vali street lay on the outskirts of the village where no one of a nobler birth ever ventured near. It formed a part of the world conveniently forgotten and ignored by everyone else in the village. Centuries after centuries, generations after generations, and rulers after rulers came and went, but Vali street continued to languish in misery and sorrow. Not many had complained though. It was all considered a part of the justice system that God had designed around the actions of all things in this world – the system of Karma.

Sankaran too had been brought up in the same philosophy. His parents had often told him that their birth in the lowest caste was God’s way of punishing them for the bad deeds they had committed in their previous lives and that they must ensure that they lead a life of virtue if they seek salvation from this misery in their next birth. It was their unshakeable faith in this system that even a mention of conversion to another religion, and by that act defy what was ordained for them by God, horrified them to the extreme.

They had led good lives, Sankaran mused, and had died peaceful deaths, all in the unwavering devotion to God and his promise of salvation. But he had his own doubts. Life was becoming increasingly difficult to lead for him and his family. The world, it seemed to him, had moved on much faster than he had. The world that he now witnessed around him wore snazzy clothes, drove fancy cars, and lived in palaces. Deep in his heart he felt cheated by the society, by his parents, and by God for making him believe that he had no place in that new world. He wanted his children to study, wanted to buy them good clothes, wanted them to lead a life of respect, wanted them to be a part of the new world, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t take up any other profession even if he wanted to, not just because he didn’t know anything about anything else other than scavenging, but also because no one would let him. It was almost as if he was tied to a pole by a rope sanctioned by divinity frequently impaled by a spear designed by the society and then forced to keep his mouth shut and accept his agony and pain as his rewards.

But things were changing now. Ten years ago a group of very fair people dressed in a strange attire and speaking a strange language had come to the village. They were indeed strange because they did what was unthinkable for the rest of the villagers – enter Vali street. They knocked on every door, spoke to everyone, and offered everyone clothing, food, and money. And they did this at every house in the street. They had come to Sankaran’s house too, he remembered. Sankaran’s father, his face crimson, his eyes burning with rage, his fists closed, and his mouth uttering expletives that he had never imagined his father would ever utter, had literally driven them out of their house and had sternly warned them to not venture anywhere near his house or his family ever. He had realized later that those were missionaries, who had arrived professing a new God, a new religion, and a new promise of respite from their miseries.

Sankaran’s father may have despised those missionaries but to his dismay the others didn’t share either his reason or his faith in Karma. Slowly but surely, one by one, every family on Vali street deserted the faith of their forefathers and embraced the new faith that had come knocking on their doors. The missionaries promised them new jobs, promised their children education in their schools, promised them the opportunity to break the shackles of their caste that they had been chained with and join the new world taking shape around them. Over the last ten years Sankaran had witnessed some of those promises being fulfilled, and how God, contrary to what he had been made to believe, didn’t seem to mind this apostasy. He had wondered why. Was it that his God was waiting for an opportunity to teach the defectors a lesson? Would he have to face His wrath if he too followed others and accepted the alien faith? He had now his doubts. He was beginning to feel that the God of the missionaries was indeed the real God and that the God he had believed in was nothing but a punitive manifestation of the Upper castes’ desire to subjugate them.

The previous day the pastor from the local chapel had come to visit him. He counseled Sankaran to accept the word of Christ and open the world of opportunities that he had deprived himself of all these years. He left a book and a cross at his house and asked him to come to the chapel and receive the blessings of God.

For the last time, Sankaran looked at his parents’ photograph, his eyes tearful with guilt and shame. He still could not look at the face of Lord Murugan, resplendent and beautiful. He turned around, picked up the book and the cross, paused at the door for a moment pleading for the final time forgiveness from his parents, and then with a determined step, walked out of the door.

Homosexuality and deviant sexual behaviour

Delhi High Court's historic judgment and countless expert-talks and articles on the same notwithstanding, I am, at a personal level, a little skeptical about the homosexual behaviour. I have nothing personal against homosexuals and their sexual preferences. They are, in my opinion, and as I have not witnessed anything to the contrary, as harmless(?) as the heterosexuals.

Where my doubts lay are in the "normality" of the whole phenomenon.

To begin with, if the whole phenomenon of "homosexuality" is genetically determined, then one really can't blame the poor chaps for being the way they are. Their destiny was written by God Herself and there is nothing we can do to go against Her wishes.

On the other hand, if it isn't, then the matter obviously needs a different treatment. It no longer becomes a congenital condition but a trait that's acquired over time. This "deviation" then may need to be understood and be treated medically or in any other way deemed fit.

However, that homosexuality may be legalised is the least of my concerns. The question that prompted me to start writing was what happens if "pedophiles", "bestial", and other such "deviant" people start claiming that they are naturally oriented in such ways and that their sexual preferences too may be given legal sanction.

It's a very disturbing question. Perhaps an outrageous one, and an irrelevant one. But a question nevertheless. After all even homosexuality was considered an unmentionable criminal act till not too long ago. Is it not a plausible assumption that modern science is incapable of proving that the rest of the sexual aberrations are a manifestation of one's genetic make-up? What happens if it does?

Do we legalise and accept them? Do we discard the Nature and God and outlaw these "criminals" from the society?

Any thoughts?

Lessons of life

There is always something valuable to learn from everyone.

From the good people one learns what to do, and how to be.

From the others, one learns what not to do, and how not to be.

Well.. I told you so!

This is from one of the articles in HBR:

"One of the course's textbooks, Made to Stick by Chip and Dan Heath, taught them six attributes that help ideas stick in people's minds: simplicity, unexpectedness, concreteness, credibility, emotions, and stories."

Well.. at least I got one right! :-)

Key to a great idea

I have been thinking about this for some time -

A great idea does not require great level of intellect to be understood.

In fact an idea becomes great only if it is comprehensible by the weakest of human intellect. Only then it find support from every quarter.

Therefore, simplicity is the key to greatness.

Cases in point:

1. Ahimsa by Mahatma Gandhi
2. Communism by Karl Marx
4. All major world religions

It's all black

Not many people may know this but the one astonishing fact that catches a newcomer in Mumbai by surprise is the exorbitant real estate prices. Well, there are other things such as the terrifying sight of a train-shaped sea of humanity that runs up and down the center of the city, the almost incredible tendency of people to stand in a queue even if there were only two people forming it, the presence of representatives of a mind-boggling number of provinces and states of India, and several others which form the entire incredulous experience of an outsider in Mumbai.

But no other issue is more pertinent and more important than the question of finding a roof over one’s head in this vast city. The answer to this one question is so damn difficult that it really stretches not just the purse strings of an individual but also his capacity to live.

I was of course wondering why prices in Mumbai are so ridiculously high and my ever wise younger brother provided a reasonably good explanation for it. There is a concept called parallel GDP – an economic system thriving on the money that is unaccounted in the Government’s books. This is called the Black Money. Indians have over the years become experts in evading taxes, accumulating black money, and somehow managing to hold on it and pass it to their future generations.

Mumbai real estate prices, I am told and I now strongly believe, is the product of the real estate mafia manipulations and black money. With the mafia indiscriminately raising real estate prices, it becomes impossible for honest salaried people to afford a house. However, for people with stashes of black money, it is a good investment since real estate prices only seem to be shooting up. As more black money is thrown into the real estate sector, the higher the prices go up making the latter more unaffordable for the honest salaried kind.

It is not uncommon to find people owning two or more houses in Mumbai. It is not surprising that most such owners are those who are more likely to possess black money. It is unimaginable that a government employee is able to afford a 80-lakhs-house in Mumbai. There are those who own two. I have parents who have worked in the PSU and I know how damn-near-impossible that is.

As long as this black money phenomenon exists, it would only be a dream for an honest salaried person to own a house in Mumbai.

HRC and a new world

Day before yesterday I had the good fortune of visiting Hard Rock Cafe at Lower Parel, Mumbai (Some people say it’s in Prabhadevi, but that’s a completely different story). What I witnessed was simply amazing. Loud Rock Music, some very beautiful people (you could repeat “very beautiful” a few more times) hustling and bustling about the entire place, all kinds of liquids being passed around, and large TV screens playing the IPL match. The last bit is of the greatest interest to me – nothing is better than sitting with a drink (Fresh Lime Soda – sweet & salt) in hand surrounded by gorgeous women and watching an electrifying cricket match.

What I observed is how alien I felt in the place. Sure, the place was full of Indians yet there was not much that I could identify with the crowd. One, the people seemed to be really affluent, really good-looking, seemed to be anglicized, not just in speech but in appearance and demeanour too, shared a common interest in liquor and rock music (why else would one go to HRC in the first place).

If a European or an American found himself in there that night, he would’ve felt at home instantly. I could as well have replaced the whole bunch with the characters of Archie Comics and it wouldn’t have changed a thing! The only saving grace was the plate of “potato skins” deep fried in oil, something I hope was indianized to cater to our palate.

Would I go there? Yes, of course. Didn’t you read the “very beautiful people” part?

A new beginning once again

A new place, a new job, a new house, a new city - I almost don't want to do all that again. It happened 5 years ago in Bengalooru when I moved to the city for the first time with just a couple of suitcases.

I spent close to three years in the city slowing building up my "household" with a few worldly possessions until I had to move to the glorious city of Ahmedabad. I gave away some of my stuff, my telephone connection, my gas connection etc. and placed myself snugly in the comforts of a student life.

Now I am back to the square one with a couple of suitcases in tow. The process has to begin all over again. What is perhaps different this time is that I already have an AC, cable and gas connection with the house deal. But I still have to mop and clean my house, wash my clothes, make my own tea etc. At least until I find a maid-servant or she finds me.

There is no water at home and I drink all the water I need in the office before I go home. This coming weekend I will have to fix all those plugs that exist in my new setup. It is, I tell you, Boooooooorrrrrrring! I hate it, but I understand that in order to lead my life in some comfort, I will have to do it again.

I really pity all the government servants who get transferred ever so often. It must truly deeply painful to dismantle and reorganize one's entire household every 2-3 years. The strangest bit is that I never realized it when I was a child and we were moving around the country (both my parents worked in PSU)!

Ah well, such is life!

endnote: While in Bengalooru, I had desisted from purchasing kitchen stuff until my grandmother decided to visit me. This development compelled me to spend Rs. 7000 and equip my kitchen with every conceivable instrument that might be required by my grandmother during her cooking. The entire set is now going to be sent to me by my Mother. It means "washing utensils" will get added to my list of household chores. :-(

The Sound of Music

Do you remember the song “Bhool Ja” sung by Shaan? In the music video, if you’d noticed, Shaan was sitting in a recording studio singing this song. Today for the first time in my life I got the opportunity to sit inside one such recording studio and the experience I must tell you is simply unbelievable.

Coming from a family that has a long history with music, vocals to be more precise – my parents sing, my grandparents and, I am told, their parents all sang too – it was not a surprise that sooner or later I would find one of my family to be inside one such studio. It has now begun with my father and, boy, was I blown away!

My father by the way is recording a few songs that are expected to come out in the market in the month of August. I am his biggest fan and over the years I have realized more and more what a fantastic singer he is. I have seen him mesmerize audiences, big or small, wherever and whenever he has sung. I have seen people coming up to him with tears in their eyes after having been deeply moved by his rendition of a bhajan or a tragic song. I have seen people literally bless him with innumerable good wishes because he brought some sort of inexplicable joy in their hearts with his renditions.

Today when I heard him sing sitting in the recording studio, I discovered how truly blessed he is (touch-wood!) with a voice so amazing that would be an object of envy to many. The quality of voice, the melody of the music, and the emotions in his singing, all flowing in a divine confluence of music that was just simply breath-taking!

I cannot contain my excitement as I wait for the finished product to come out in the market. I pray to God to bless him with all the success he deserves. All the best, Appa!

The bug list

“Can you see?” asks one of the oracles of held captive by the U.S. Department of Justice in the popular movie Minority Report. A strange question considering that the oracle herself was endowed with good eyesight and could “see”. Yet it wasn’t the actual seeing that she was referring to. She was wondering if she was actually seeing reality – the world as it was.

Most of us are capable of “seeing” things. We have come to regard our sight with so much casualness that we don’t simply attach the importance that needs to be attached to it. That oracle could for the first time see things that were not visions was so frightfully exciting for it. That must tell us how important the power of sight is.

We as humans have been blessed with strong cognitive capacity - the ability to apply thought to concepts, build on them, take actions on them, “evolve”, as it were, not just physically but also intellectually and spiritually. We have the power to apply strong cognitive models to our sensory faculties and develop a more comprehensive and enriching picture of the world around us.
For example, when we see things, we apply our mental energies to understand the image in front of us, what it stands for, what it implies, and how does that affect us. If that doesn’t happen to us then God save us!

However, we must go beyond just the perfunctory duty of seeing things. There is more to seeing than just images forming on the surface of the retina. That is why there exist words such as watch and observe. The word “observe” beautifully describes a higher form of cognitive process that accompanies the process of seeing. It is not just viewing things and trying to understand them. It is going one level beyond that. It is about bringing more value to our lives. An observer builds on his viewing experience and then applies his intellectual power to explore ways in which he can use the visual experience to add more value to a human life.

I recently read about a company called IDEO (http://www.ideo.com) and was blown away by the incredibly innovative work that they do. A book “The art of innovation” has been written on the company and their philosophy. In the book is mentioned an interesting phenomenon called “The Bug List”. It is list of things that designers “see” around them in the world and are unhappy about. The inherent unhappiness drives them to seek better designs in the systems around them thereby continuously adding value to the society.

A typical observer, they say, would view a queue at a railway station ticket window and try to figure out how he/she can improve the process. An observer would view the flowing traffic outside the window of his house and wonder how to improve the traffic system, or how to reduce the burden on roads, or how to move to a more efficient public transport system etc.

I think every human can “see” the world in this new way. Every human can and must do justice their human-ness and strive to add more value to the society and the world. Only then we may deserve any bit of the pride that we associate with us being Humans.

The importance of being a practitioner

The world loves a practitioner. A highly generalized and perhaps grossly misplaced statement, some may say. What does the word “practitioner” convey? An instinctive answer to the question might be that a practitioner is the one who practices. Yes and No. A practitioner does practice but that’s all not what he does. A practitioner’s practice is characterized by the depth of his practice as much as the width of it. Confusing, is it?

Let us consider a few examples – Sachin Tendulkar, Ustad Zakir Hussain, Dr. Abdul Kalam, Naseeruddin Shah, Mahatma Gandhi, Lata Mangeshkar etc. What is common between all of these? Yes, they are all famous. But is there anything else? Let me provoke you a little more by adding to this the following persons – your favourite teacher at school, your most loved servant/subordinate, your favourite cook, and your biggest crush. Do you see anything common between them and the names that were listed earlier? Almost invariably one would find that all of them have been practitioners of one thing or the other.

Let us consider Sachin Tendulkar’s example. He spends hours at the nets practicing on his batting skills, but he does not stop himself there. He invests equal if not more amount of time and effort into studying the nuances of the game, studying various conditions that might affect a cricket game, study opponents’ game to learn their strategies, understand their psychology, and is continuously endeavouring to better himself and add more value to the team each and every time.

Ustad Zakir Hussain not only practices playing the Tabla but also spends considerable time understanding the fundamentals of percussions, the effect of various beats and tempos, the various effect that can be generated by combining Tabla with other instruments in a jugalbandi, understanding western concepts of music to enrich his knowledge of percussion and music.

My favourite cook, my grandmother, is perfect not because she has practiced the art of cooking over the years. It is because each and every time I find her trying to improvise, learn new recipes, modifying and experimenting with her own recipes to appeal to varying tastes and preferences of my cousins and me. She goes as far as to mix elements of different cuisines in order to enrich our eating experience every single time.

All three of them are practitioners. Their existence is not limited to practice and perfection of a simple task, but to practice and perfect the value that they intend to provide through that task. We love Sachin not because he has perfected the art of batting, but because he nearly every time plays to win the match for his team. We love Zakir Hussain not because he has perfected the art of playing Tabla, but because he nearly every time enthralls us with his performance. I love my grandmother not because she has perfected the art of making rasam or sambar, but because she has never failed to arouse the joy of having consumed delicious food.
We seek and adore practitioners in life. We respect them for their discipline, and we don’t feel shy of showering them with our affection and blessings. That’s why the most popular guys in schools or colleges are those that are “famous” for some quality of theirs. It could be from as sophisticated as a math wizard to something as inane as a champion of antakshari.

Yet not many of us consciously try to become practitioners in life. Practitioners are a rare phenomenon in our society. Somehow a majority of us have relegated ourselves to a life of mediocrity and have built a cocoon around us in the false assumption that life in the arms of mediocrity is simple and uneventful. Nothing can be farther from the truth.

A practitioner may not achieve stupendous success in an activity but a mediocre person is doomed to failure under all circumstances. A student who is a practitioner may not end up topping his classroom, but is likely to contribute more value to the society in terms of his job, his family, his knowledge, his skills etc. than someone who is not because practitioners are a rare and cherished commodity. Sooner or later the practitioner would find success and when success comes to him it will come in all its glory. What is more amazing that the practitioner thereafter won’t really have to work hard to sustain it. He just has to be himself. The mediocre on the other hand would almost always struggle to achieve any semblance of success which I am afraid would never come to him or, even if it does, would not stay with him for long.

A practitioner when asked to perform a task that does not match his passions will perform at 80-90% efficiency whereas a mediocre person would always function at 50-60% efficiency, his own passions notwithstanding. A practitioner however when asked to perform a task that matches his passion ends up working at 250% efficiency. In fact, the word “passion” implies a practitioner at the core of it. The key is “devotion”. Devotion to a value, a cause, as it were, compels a person to explore in more depth and breadth and helps him reach an elevated state of knowledge that others can only dream about. Thus it is not uncommon to find practitioners become “stars” of an organization, “icons” of a society, or “idols” for the masses.

There is indeed value in being a practitioner.

An example of the "scare"

Following up on this post of mine...

A sticker outside some auto-rickshaws in Mumbai

"Spitting causes TB. Stop spitting"

Ah! How I wish this campaign catches on and we are rid of the menace of spitting that is literally painting the country red.

Mistaken Identity

“Suniye Bhaiya! Ye kitne ka hai?”

How many of us have used this line in our daily lives! Whether in the gift shop, the Big Bazaar, the subzi mandi, the saree shop, the sweet shop or any such place, we have often witnessed ourselves putting forth this inane query to a helpless, pitiful, weakling of the human species.

The language, or the tone, or perhaps even the demeanour may change from one place to another but the inherent question remains the same.

I too am no different. I have abused this single sentence so many times that it by far must have become the most commonly spoken sentence across all languages in India.

What I hadn’t observed so far is the mental attitude that accompanied the seemingly innocuous question. Often, and I am discounting the lavish, affluent, up-market shops or showrooms, the attendant workforce in these shops is relatively looked down upon by me. Primarily because in my opinion they are not well-educated, many of them are basically foolish since they don’t understand simple things are almost always clueless, they are low on capabilities – zero sales skills and pretty much non-existent communication skills. The more mass-market the commercial establishment, the lower my opinion of the shop attendants.

Yeah yeah, you may raise your finger at me and call me a pompous swellhead with a giant ego, but at least I am honest enough to admit what I feel. It may be misplaced but to come to a point where I am at least aware of the subconscious thought process that guides my actions is in itself an achievement for me. So there!

Now, it is quite a shock to me when I am at the receiving end of the question in question. Yes, ME. Not once, not twice, but innumerable times while I would be loitering about an aisle in a supermarket or casually browsing through the contents in a shop when I would be posed this query by a stranger.

It hurts me. Really. Because it immediately tells me that I somehow surprisingly exhibit all those qualities that I have subconsciously ascribed to the lowly creatures of the shop-attendant kind. It hurts me to know that despite wearing a T-shirt that carries the unmistakable logo of the very famous “Well known Institute of Management in Western India” that I have had the privilege of studying in the stranger does not hesitate even for a second before proceeding to assume that I am one of “THEM”.

Well, it happened to me yet again yesterday and this time in a Big Bazaar, arguably the most mass-market commercial establishment. The perpetrators this time were not one, two, but three people in succession who came up to me and asked me the price of a stupid mosquito-annihilation device that resembled a tennis racquet. All this happened while I was in an insouciant manner practicing my forehand with one of the pieces on display.

My immediate reaction was to break their heads with the device, then throw them on the ground and jump on their chests until their hearts popped out which I would then tear apart with my bare hands. But I am by nature a non-violent person and my inherent passive disposition eventually prevailed over my instincts.

But I did learn an important lesson yesterday. No, it is not that my respect for the shop attendants has increased remarkably. I don’t suppose that is likely to happen very soon. What I learnt was far more important and perhaps more essential for a better life. A life where embarrassments would be less and occasions for placing our feet in the most unlikely place of our mouths would be rare.

The lesson: Always make sure that the person who you are going to ask the question in question is indeed a shop attendant. Look for a tag, a uniform, or any other identification. Else, at least wait for someone else to speak to the person before you do.

What if you don’t? Well, remember not everyone is of a passive disposition as I am. :-)

Just scare the hell out of them!

Indians are often criticized by many for their poor civic sense particularly hygiene and cleanliness. By who? Well, at the least the elite and the educated in India do. Well, at least those in the network of my acquaintance do. Oh well, at least I do. It is frequently mentioned, often to the point of inducing hatred towards India and the Indians, that we, the Indians, do not know, appreciate, or even understand the value of maintaining cleanliness, especially outside the walls of our residences.

I will not dispute any of these allegations and it would be imprudent if I were to try to even remotely justify the callous indifference with which we, the Indians, treat public areas. I will also not try to cleverly manipulate you into believing that the blame for this mess lies with the Government, the authorities, the ‘system’ (whatever that means!), and what have you. I will also not try to commence a lecture on the benefits of cleanliness because I believe that anyone who is capable of reading this blog has learnt all that was to be learnt about the benefits of cleanliness in the process of their schooling.

So what is this whole rant all about? First of all, I would advise you not to label all this output of words as a ‘rant’ and discard it outright. I don’t believe that repeating a problem statement sufficient number of times reveals the solution automatically. We need to think, apply our minds, or innovate to produce a solution to a problem. With this inspiring thought I now proceed to propose a method by which we, the Indians, can be ‘encouraged’ to be more responsible and considerate towards the notion of civic sense.

No, this article is not a discourse on another great revolutionary idea about education, morality, and global warming. Instead, this article is about ‘Fear’. Yes, the same fear that gripped our hearts, occupied our mindspace during the Y2K chaos. The same fear that now scares the hell out of us when we have to drink a glass of water at a roadside ‘thela’ selling delicious samosas. The same fear that advises people, especially women, to not travel alone late in the night in the city of Delhi.

Fear I believe has been, is, and would always be the biggest motivator for the mankind. Fear makes us do things that we would never do, or as a corollary, would make us not do things that we have always been doing. Fear is the key to a man’s mindspace. Get fear into a man’s mind and he will readily do whatever you ask him to do. A very common policy, I say, that is often employed by the politicians of this country to ‘motivate’ people to give the former their invaluable votes.

So how do we use ‘Fear’ to elevate the abysmal standards of civic sense? Consider the following scenarios.

a. A plastic bag supposedly containing garbage thrown on the roadside of a busy shopping area

b. An open garbage dump that has been in existence for years in the corner of a residential colony

c. A crumpled piece of paper lying on the corridor of a mall or a commercial complex

“What about them”, one may ask as one is often used to such a sight across the length and breadth of India. But imagine the above scenarios with the following modifications:

a. A plastic bag supposedly containing explosive material thrown on the roadside of a busy shopping area

b. An open garbage dump in a residential colony contains a bag full of explosive materials

c. A crumpled piece of paper lying on the corridor of a mall or a commercial complex contains anthrax or other such potentially dangerous bio-weapon

If the above modifications do not succeed in running a chill down your spine, then you are either well protected, or you are one of those who were looking for a new idea to strike terror and now have found one thanks to this blog.

It is not very difficult to see how our indifference to unattended garbage lying about can be taken advantage of very conveniently by the Terrorists.

However, imagine these scenarios in an imaginary India where an instance of unattended garbage lying about is rare, where the people and police are vigilant about those who recklessly throw about garbage in public areas. It would be extremely difficult for one to inconspicuously plant a bomb or such and get away.

The key, I reiterate, is Fear. The fear of being blown away by bombs I hope is potent enough to drive people to dispose off their garbage in a more organized and ‘safe’ manner. It is only a matter of using the Fear Factor the right way. Radical thought? Well, I said so.  :-)

Useful business tips from Gujjus

While in Ahmedabad the following are some of the business tips (or policies, if you will) that I found worthy of imbibing from the Gujjus. I am not sure if they themselves follow these principles or are even aware of it. :-)

1. Never ever let a single paisa go waste in business.
2. Trust is the single biggest reason why one would continue to do business with you. So build the trust and live up to it at every cost.
3. Customer is THE king. Treat him like one (I would have said 'her' but then it would have had to be 'Queen').
4. Be humble, patient, polite and calm. ALWAYS. Without fail.
5. When it comes to business, no amount of hard work is beneath one's dignity. Be ready to walk, dirty your shoes and hands if need be if that adds to your business.
6. Keep business and emotions separate. In your personal capacity, you may spend thousands to help your friend, but in business you make sure that he pays for your product/service.

This is not exhaustive but this is what I can think of from the top of my head.

Surprisingly, these things are NEVER spoken about in management education, or at least the one I underwent. Maybe, that's why Gujjus make excellent "entrepreneurs" while we make good "managers".

Food for thought?

If Homosexuality was indeed a genetic trait then shouldn't "natural selection" have caused it to vanish already?

Ummeed

maanaa toota mera dil hai
sooni dil ki mehfil hai
naamumkin nahi zindagi lekin
bhale thodi mushkil hai


maanaa nahi ghar-baar hai
thokarein bhi lagataar hain
naamumkin nahi thikaana jab
aashiyaana ye sansaar hai


maanaa nahi koi sang hai
na hi jeevan mein umang hai
naamumkin nahi khushiyan jab
gulon mein itne rang hain


fir jab pathreeli raah ho
gham mein doobi har aah ho
mai chalta rahu, badhta rahu
kyun mujhe dard ki parvaah ho

Scrubs

Of all the TV series that I have watched I find Scrubs to be the most unique of them all. It is about friendship just like "Friends", about doctors and hospitals just like "General Hospital", about confused relationships just like "How I met your mother". The humour is subtle and the stories beautifully woven around a typical drab life in a hospital.

But the most interesting aspect of this series which was hitherto unknown to me is its rich soundtrack. I have been listening to it for the last two days and I must say I am impressed by the sheer variety of music that the sountrack has to offer.

My two personal favourites - "Fighting for my love" by Nil Lara and "Hey Good Looking" by Hank Williams.

What are the odds?

Yes, it was such a freak coincidence that I had to note it down on my blog!

Feb 21, 2008, the first of our mid-term examinations and in the true IIMA tradition, an open-book examination. The professors here have a lot of faith in students' creativity especially when the latter do not know the answers. The open books therefore are a way to contain that overflowing creativity.

So there I was sitting nonchalantly, determined to survive the examination's assault, when the question papers were handed out to us. The first thing that hit me - no business cases - which is a good thing usually, except this time when four questions required us to refer to four business cases in our classroom study material, also known as the 'case-mat'.

It is then that it dawned upon me that I in my esteemed wisdom had completely ignored this eventuality, and had come to the exam hall sans the study material. Within no time, the hands went cold, the forehead inundated with sweat beads, and the heart racing so fast as if it would rather get out of my chest and be some place else where life was less cruel.

Now a reasonably hard-working student would not have got so worked up as a reasonably hard-working student would have cared to study those cases, or at least paid attention when they were being discussed in class. But, as it happens, God has gifted me with almost every good quality in this world except the gift of "reasonable hard-work".

So in some sort of desperation, and perhaps driven by my undying spirit of optimism that help would arrive from somewhere, I turned around to my friend, Rohin Thampi, and in a tone with so much melancholy that it would have made tragedy king, Dilip Kumar look like the comedian, Johnny Lever, I mentioned my plight.

Rohin, on his part, gave me a smile which I thought was totally uncalled for, especially when my future was in doldrums. I had just begun to muster enough anger within myself to give him a piece of my mind when, lo and behold, he took out an extra case-mat from his bag and handed it to me.

I gawked at him. Words did not come to me and had it not been for the pressure of examination which had long since started, I would have probably stood up and delivered an emotional speech filled with gratitude and other such assorted emotions.

Imagine 280 students, spread over 9 classrooms, and one of them happened to have an extra case-mat borrowed from a senior, and he happened to sit in my classroom right behind me. Heck, if he was sitting anywhere else even in the same classroom, I would not have survived!

And what in the world was he doing with two case-mats when one itself is a huge burden on mankind? It so happened that on the previous day, he could not find his case-mat, so he presumed that he had lost it and, therefore, borrowed a copy from one of our seniors. As (my) luck would have it, just as he was entering the exam hall this day, one of his friends who happened to have his book, ran up to him and returned his book; thus leaving him with two copies.

Who said miracles don't happen? :) God does exist and (S)he likes me. Thank you, God! :D

ps: The previous day, my fortune in Orkut had said - "Good luck would come to you soon." Ha ha.

bhramar

ek anjaan bageeche mein
pagal bhramar bhraman karta
milan sundar kali ka ho
bas yahi aas kshan kshan karta


youvan pankh umang sahit
us premi ne udaan bhari
har ang ang khila phoolon ka
khil khil kar muskaan bhari


aalingan par un pushpon ka
na uske man ko tha bhaaya
prem-vash tha vivash bhramar ke
dil mein ik sundar kaaya


madmast bhramar vo man mera
tarase hai prem kali paavan
rang bhar de sundarta jiski
mohit kar de mera jeevan

Truth.

Can someone give me one example of Truth given the definition below?

Truth is infallible.
Truth is immutable.
Truth is permanent.
Truth is one.

what drives you?

Why do certain people relish solving tough problems and coming up trumps with a solution?

Why do certain people take up seemingly impossible challenges to overcome them?

In any institute where one may have studied, there would be a few students who would be classified
as "brilliant", better than the rest, and would be expected to top every exam.

The others are happy and contented in their mediocrity, have either given up trying, or do not
harbour any intentions to put an extra effort.

Take one such "brilliant" student. She has always revelled in topping all exams. She believes that
she is bound to lead when it comes to academics; that she must always set an example before others.

This students is brimming with confidence, and as a logical progression to one's academic pursuit, lands
up in a renowned institute venerated for its quality of education and what not.

Here, the student finds herself among many other brilliant students coming from different backgrounds.

Suddenly, she finds she is no longer one of the privileged ones. She is not who everyone looks upto.
Heck, she is finding it difficult to top her examinations and is consistenly outperformed by not one
but many of her counterparts.

She starts losing confidence in herself and starts doubting her very abilities.

An institue is a place where students come to learn, build up confidence to go out and face the world.

If a student who was full of confidence comes to this institute, loses it completely, and starts doubting
one's abilities, then is the institute not actually doing a disservice? :-)

Another year...

I am 27 today. :-)

God help us..

What must he (name withheld) do?

He sees a girl and develops a strong crush for her. He develops a strong crush for her because she reminds him of a girl he hates. He hates that girl because he deeply loves her. He deeply loves her but doesn't feel ready to commit. He doesn't feel ready to commit because she hates him. Interestingly, she hates him because she deeply loves him. He doesn't feel he is capable of doing justice to "being in love". To sum it up, he is getting attracted to a girl he doesn't love. :)

Any suggestions?

ps: I couldn't think of any thing to suggest him, except maybe,... in fact,... I couldn't suggest anything.

pps: If fate does bring her to this blog one day, "He deeply loves the girl he hates and would want to spend the rest of his life with the girl he can not commit to." :D

purity

Purity of mind, purity in thoughts, purity in actions. - can a human being ever be without violating any of these?

possible candidates -

saints, priests, teachers, mothers.

but we must remember that each of these are driven by a deep and powerful selfish interest...

...and an individual plays more than one role in his/her life.



ps: Never betray LOVE.


pps: If you do, never betray it.

Life

As life got busier and busier,
the time cruised by,
and now I try to catch some moments,
some memories flashing by.

undeterred and adamant,
the stream flows on,
how I wish could stop it,
halt it, but it goes on.

and soon would go the moments
that I would have loved to cherish
those flowers fragrant, the rivers tranquil,
those wonderful relations that I relish.

As I stand at the end of the road
looking back, I say to myself,
the end that I had ran to never did exist,
that the end was in the journey itself.

Foreign Affair

Ashok Babu true to his middle-class nature believed in the superiority of everything foreign or imported. His abode in Kalyani Nagar comprised of an eclectic collection of items procured from places as diverse as Timbuktu and Tokyo. An American Television, a Swiss watch, and a Japanese tape recorder were some of his prized possessions. He assumed an air of pride bordering on arrogance among other residents of Kalyani Nagar. Lately, he had been advised some physical exercise by his doctor and he perceived this as an opportunity to procure yet another foreign-made item to enhance his relative status in the society. With this pleasant thought in mind, he proceeded to the bicycle shop at the marketplace nearby. With an air of hauteur possessed usually by the kings of bygone eras, he summoned the shop owner and ordered,

"Show me the best bicycle that you have."

The shop-owner obliged like an obedient servant and led him to a section of the shop that had more bicycles than people around that conveyed obviously to Ashok Babu that the place displayed bicycles worth more than the general affordability of the more common populace. He beamed an egotistic smile. He could have patted his back with his own hands if only they could venture beyond the circumference of his prosperous belly.

"I want only a foreign-made bicycle. These Indian-made ones are cheap and are of an inferior quality. If you have any foreign-made bicycles then show them to me else don't waste my time", he said emphatically.

"We have the best in the world, Sir. Don't you worry at all. I will show you the best and nothing but the best bicycles."

"But they are foreign-made, aren't they?"

"Yes, of course, Sir. None of them have even a part that is manufactured in India."

Ashok Babu was visibly pleased with the answer and with an appreciative eye began inspecting the exhibits in the order of increasing price. For each product that he eyed, the shop-owner embarked on a rote-learned recitation of its qualities and features that entitled the bicycle to be deemed as the best in the world. Finally, Ashok Babu stopped next to the most expensive bicycle and scrutinized it with the kind of perspicacity that is usually possessed by women purchasing vegetables in the market.

The shop-owner having perceived Ashok Babu's affirmative glances began enumerating all the qualities of the bicycle and in the process rattled off the names of all the countries where each part of the bicycle was manufactured.

Pleased with the description, Ashok Babu decided to purchase it immediately.

"That will be 5000 rupees, Sir!"

The amount sounded exorbitant to Ashok Babu and he almost as quickly decided to label the doctor a quack and consult another one who could instead prescribe him a magic pill than advise exercise, but the delicious opportunity of stamping his superior status on his neighbours and witness their faces painted with jealousy and envy prevented him from doing so and he fished into his pocket and brought out a bundle of notes, counted the required amount, and handed over the money to the shop-owner.

"It better be worth all the money."

"Sure sir, it is. As an additional security measure, I would suggest you to purchase a lock for the bicycle. I have some in my shop if you are interested."

"Well, that is a good idea. Are the locks too imported?"

"Er, no Sir. They aren't. Unfortunately, we have only Indian locks."

An Indian lock on an imported bicycle! Almost outrightly Ashok babu rejected the idea. His bicycle deserved nothing less than a swiss lock. What a matter of shame it would be for him otherwise! He rejected the shop-owner's suggestion and admonished him for even suggesting so.

Visibly bloated with happiness and pride over his latest purchase, Ashok Babu emerged out of the cycle shop dragging along his brand new bicycle alongside him. He decided to celebrate this joyous occasion at Guptaji's shop – his favourite sweet shop in the middle of the busy market place of Kalyani Nagar – by feasting on a kilo or two of delicious Jalebis.

Guptaji received him with customary graciousness reserved for his most special customers. Even before being asked, Ashok Babu announced his latest achievement to the motley group of people around the shop and went about his business of gorging on the choicest sweets the shop had to offer.

Contented and satisfied, Ashok Babu decided to go home and after having paid the bill, came out of the shop, and, as he had done in the past, promptly called for a taxi and went home.

It is only when he was smugly reminiscing about the day's events that it struck him that he had left the bicycle outside Guptaji's shop. Not that people of Kalyani Nagar were notorious kleptomaniacs. However, it would be imprudent to believe that an expensive item such as his bicycle would not draw the attention of, or indeed tempt an honest man into immoralilty.

The sudden prospect of losing his prized possession instilled into him a briskness and a religious zeal that had long been not witnessed in his demeanour. He shot off towards Guptaji's shop with a prayer on his lips. He promised himself that if he found his bicycle he would immediately visit the temple on the outskirts of Kalyani Nagar and offer generous oblations.

Soon enough, he was at Guptaji's shop huffing and puffing and catching on his breath. There, outside the shop, in the golden light of the setting sun, his bicycle shone like a magnificent piece carved out in gold. Never had he felt the enormous elation he felt in his heart then. If he could, he would have jumped in joy but the sheer gravity acting on him kept his feet planted firmly on the ground.

He hugged his bicycle like a mother who hugs her long-separated child. He held the bicycle in his hands and began dragging it along. As promised, he decided to visit the temple and express his gratitude to the Gods for protecting his beloved bicycle. He laboured all the way to the outskirts of the town where the temple was situated.

He parked his bicycle outside the temple and went in. True to his words, he offered a generous donation of a hundred and one rupees – an auspicious amount - to the temple and profusely thanked the Gods.

His heart light with happiness and joy, Ashok Babu emeged out of the temple, wore his shoes and walked towards where his bicycle was parked. Only this time, the bicycle wasn't there.

War and Ego

If there is one phenomenon that the entire Human history is ridden with, then it is definitely War. Just open a book of History and randomly run your finger to any one page and you would most likely find a reference to a war. Numerous reasons are given for a war - battle for truth, battle for good, battle for Gods etc. A lot of consequences have also been elaborated - destruction, gloom, poverty, diseases etc.

But what sustains a war?; why the parties involved in a war want to continue to wage it despite knowing its consequences all too well? How many times have we heard people say that they would rather not have a war but they can't help it. What does one mean by "cannot help it" ? Is it really true that they are helpless or is it that they do not want to help themselves?

One factor that I seem to notice in all these conflicts is a strong presence of EGO. War is an excellent exercise in fuelling one's EGO. Taking initiative to broke peace is perceived to be a sign of weakness in the party offering truce. Alternately, if a party that has had an upper hand suddenly offers peace to its opponent, it is taken as a sign of humiliation by the opponent; all the more reason for him/her to continue to wage the war and not accept the peace offer.

After the war has run for a prolonged time, if the two parties involved do decide to sit down and fashion a peaceful solution to the problem, neither of the sides is willing to compromise on its stand. The sheer cost, effort and time that has been expended on waging the war prohibits any compromise, otherwise it might make the warring parties look like fools for having waged a war on something that could have been solved by a dialogue and compromise. The EGO yet again comes into play.

One may find such similarities in a discord that emerges between a husband and a wife, or between two siblings, or between two lovers. None of the parties is happy being in the discord and would want to resolve the issue amicably and live happily with each other. However, their respective EGOs would prevent them from taking the first step towards a resolution lest they are perceived to be the weaker party and are seen willing to compromise - something which the other might take advantage of to further his/her opinion or position. Hence the deadlock continues and a relation that should have blossomed happily continues to sour to its destruction.

That is why it is often said that the most precious word in a relationship is SORRY. This word not only immediately assuages the EGO of the opponent almost instantaneously but also gives us an opportunity to look within ourselves to see if the mistake, or part thereof, does lie with us. If both parties follow this principle, then the relationship never ever faces an EGO clash as both parties would look forward to a compromise almost as soon as a conflict or a contentious issue rears its head.

Maybe, there is an equivalent of SORRY word in WAR too. Everytime, a discord emerges that could be a potential cause for a war, the two parties must utter the "SORRY" word and sit down and formulate a compromise solution. Maybe then we would be able to maintain peace and happiness in the world.

It's official!

अभी की ऐश २० अप्रैल को होगी।

:-)

Marriage

My heart racing fast

sweat on my forehead

My ears were oblivious

to what was being said.







I stood there stupefied

wondering what to do

what state of madness

this situation brought me to.







The nerves were a wreck

I wanted to run far away

I could not bear the burden

of responsibilities coming my way







Then she appeared before me

all demure and shy

A subdued smile on her lips

probably a tear in her eye







Her beauty was enchanting

and my heart skipped a beat

Her lips so full of life

her voice so sweet.







And suddenly the world changed

and I did not want to run away

I wanted to hold her, kiss her

and make love to her all day.







I could not live without her

that I came to know for sure

I could take on the world if she was with me

and suddenly I wasn't afraid any more.

Talk on dear...

Scene 1

The team is in a resort having fun its own ways - in the pool, at the snooker table, badminton court etc.
All except one who has received a call on his phone and is sitting in a corner and has been talking
for over two hours now..


Scene 2

With the exhaustion evident on his face, eyes red, and sleep lingering on his eyes, the man enters the office.
I inquire of the reason of his state. "Had been on the phone till late in the morning..."


Scene 3

The sun sets, night descends and most of the private rooms in office are occupied - not to attend conference calls - but by many men to indulge in separate private tete-a-tete that can run from anywhere between 2 to 5 hours.


What is it about "engaged" couples that makes them want to talk so much over phone night after night after night? If it was one or two then I would have been inclined to believe that it was only an aberration, but the more men I see getting engaged the more I see them hanging on to the phones involved in long conversations with their counterparts. I am led to believe that maybe there is something intrinsically wrong with me that I find the idea of being on the phone for so long night after night a very frightening, annoying, and a very stressful exercise.

Take the example of the poor man in scene 1. He was on an outing enjoying with his friends and would have probably liked to spend the time (at least I would have loved to) mucking about in the pool with the rest of his friends, or indulge in a game of tennis or badminton. Certainly, these are not activities that one has access to on normal days and the very fact that one has to spend the time meant to be spent with one's friends talking to one's fiance on the phone while the rest of the gang enjoys seems to be a little cruel on the poor chap.

It is a wonder what and how much content could there be to talk about everyday for hours on. Even if I concede that a new couple has a lot of things to share, I cannot imagine that the corpus of information is not exhausted within a month of daily talkathons. What after that? I am sure even an account of the day's activities cannot merit
two-three hours of elaboration.

A lot of guys I know do not enjoy such long conversations - they take part in such conversations only because the other half wants them to - and they play along with the, pardon me for the use of the word, ordeal day after day. Some of them do try to justify that it is essential that a couple talks or communicates so much to lay solid foundation for a long lasting relationship. Does that mean if a guy does not have the financial means to foot the resulting telephone bill then he is doomed in his relationships with the woman he loves? By this logic, the couple in my previous generation should not have stayed together for as long as they have now. Clearly, there is a flaw in that logic. My parents are now married for over 27 years and (touchwood) still seem to going as strong as ever.

So, what is the logic behind this madness of talking over phone? What recourse does a guy who does not like have long conversations over phone have? Does he go and tell the girl that they should limit their conversations to 30 to 60 minutes everyday? "Suicide" is how some of my friends describe such a situation. In a way, there seems to be some justification for the girls' eagerness to spend some talking to their loved ones especially if they see most of their friends bragging about the duration of their romantic conversations the next day. It would naturally make any girl doubt the intensity or sincerity of their fiances' love. Funnily, the duration of phone conversations has become a direct measure of a couple's love in this telecommunication age.

Currently I do not seem to find any solution to this nagging problem and unless girls start talking less, or I change, there seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe I am doomed. "18 till I die", someone said. In my case, it probably will be "18 and single till I die".

night out song.

neend aa rahi hai
mujhe neend aa rahi hai
neend aane se
thak jaane se
ubaasi aa rahi hai

1)
kal bhi mai na soya
aur aaj bhi so na paaunga
office mein rahoonga
ghar wapas ja na paaunga

night out maar.un
kaam se haar.un
udaasi chaa rahi hai

2)
naukari karte karte
mai to sona hi bhool gaya
ab aise din beete
khaana peena bhi bhool gaya

dil behlaa.un
aur samajhaau.n
kamaai to aa rahi hai

Blind love

Life is funny in that it can make one realize what a wonderful gift it is in very many subtle ways just when you think you could have had it better. For the last few months near the place where I live I have noticed a number of people happily walking all the way to their place of work in the morning and then walk back home in the evening, stopping at the small temple at the road side and reciting a small prayer with a head bowed in reverence and devotion. Everyday, they walk alone, and most importantly happily, with a smile on their faces and carry out this routine with what I perceive to be a deep-seated gratitude in their hearts towards God for having given them such a wonderful gift of Life.

And today, once again, another couple of people made me realize the futility or irrationaliy, unreasonableness, or, if I may dare say, foolishness of our tendency to carp about our lives. The couple had a beautiful baby girl in their arms, the husband was ready to leave for his office but had probably taken some time out just take his beautiful daughter for that precious morning stroll that every child eagerly looks forward to with its father just when he is leaving for office. There was so much love between them that it touched a chord.

So what is special about these people? What makes them different from other such people and couples?

Just one thing - they are all blind.


ps: "Happiness is only a state of mind"

How convenient.

At first the man was happy. He ate, slept and
occasionaly indulged in copulation.

Till he realized life was very inconvenient having to walk all the way everytime an ice age occurs.
Also, the coldness of ice wasn't helping either.

So one day the man suddenly created the wheel.
Then he accidently created fire.

Then he figured he was taking too much time travelling between his hunting ground and his home-cave, so he created a cart using the wheels to make his life more convenient.

Then he figured he needed something to push it, so he decided to yoke horses to his cart.

Once he could save some time travelling, his wife decided to put the spare time to better use by shopping.

Gradually, the list of items to shop grew longer and soon there were more things to shop and less time.

So he built an engine to replace his horses.

The engine required fuel. So he created mines to mine the fuel.

Soon other men decided they too wanted one of these fast moving things so they asked our man to make some more.

So the man now set up factories to produce more vehicles.

As the demand grew, the man decided to make things more
convenient by building machines that would build carts.

Someone else in the meantime decided to build his own
cart.

Soon there were a lot of carts and no fuel.

So the man decided to dig deeper in the ground for the fuel.

When he could find none, he decided to find it elsewhere.

Soon there were a lot of men digging deep elsewhere.

Gradually, no more elsewheres could be found.

In the meantime, the man realized that his cart ride was very bumpy.

So to make his ride more comfortable, he decided to build roads.

But the roads would be spoiled by rains.

So he decided to use up some of his fuel to build tar roads.

Now that the roads were better, other men wanted to travel farther and wider.

So more roads needed to be built.

Soon, a lot of fuel was being burnt so that more fuel could be burnt.

And then again, there wasn't much fuel remaining.

So man decided to snatch someone else's fuel.

This led to physical combats.

To gain advantage, man built weapons.

Other men built better weapons.

Soon men were creating more weapons than men.

So more machines were required to build more weapons.

More weapons meant more machines that meant more fuel that meant more weapons that meant more machines.. and er.. one gets the point.

And now, man is happy how convenient his life has become.

When the dawn breaks
the sun shines down
the wall of brightness
brings the darkness down


But I feel empty
that something is absent
I wonder why am not happy
in that wonderful moment


It was I who broke away
It was I who dismissed you
Is it strange that now I wonder
Is it strange that I miss you

I am a jerk! If only I could go back in time...

Another year.

I am 26 today. :-)

Naiharva

Yup - this song is creating ripples through the country through the bewitching voice of Kailash Kher in his new album, Kailasa. Not many however do understand the lyrics. Neither did I until I really paid attention to them and until I heavily used the services of Sergey's and Larry's enterprise.

If one thought the song was beautiful, the lyrics are divine, and I mean it in the true sense. Originally expressed by Kabir, the words come out with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world that one has come to associate Kabir with. Here is the reproduction of lyrics and meanings (literal and interpreted) of this beautiful song - Naiharva. Some more pearls can be obtained HERE .




Naiharva Hum Ka Na Bhave
Sai Ki Nagri Param Ati Sundar,
Jahan Koi Jav Na Avey
Chand Suraj Jahan, Pavan Na Pani,
Ko Sundesh Pahunchave
Dard Yeh Sai Ko Sunave
Agey Chalo Panth Nahin Sujhe,
Peeche Dosh Lagawe
Kehi Bidhi Sasure Jau Mori Sajani,
Virha Jor Jarawe
Vishai Ras Nach Nachawe
Bin Satguru Apno Nahin Koi,
Jo Yeh Rah Batawe
Kahat Kabira Suno Bhai Sadho,
Supne Na Peetam Awey
Tapan Yeh Jiya Ki Bujhawey


Meanings of selected words -
Naiharva - Wife's house (or, Mayka in Hindi)
Sai - Beloved (or, Husband)
Panth - Way
Bidhi - Method, scheme, way.
Virha - Separation
Satguru - Holy Teacher
Tapan - Fire
Jiya - Heart



Literal Translation
I Don’t Find any Interest in My Parent’s House
My Beloved’s Town is Most Beautiful
However, Nobody Goes or Comes from There
There is no Moon, Sun, Wind or Water There
Then Who Will Take My Message There?
Then Who Will Tell My Pain to My Beloved?

There is No Visible Path to Move Forward
And You Blame the Past for It
How Should the Bride go to the House of the Beloved?
Powerful Pangs of Separation are Burning from Inside
Dual Reality is Fashioning a Dance to Its Tune

There is None Other Than the Guru Who is Mine Who Can Tell the Way
Says Kabir Listen oh Aspirant
Your Beloved Will Come in a Dream-like State
That Alone Will Quench the Thirst of your Heart



Philosophical Interpretation
n this song Kabir portrays himself like a bride who has gone to her parents house. But having gone there her soul burns from the pangs of separation from her beloved. The bride’s trouble is further complicated because there are no messengers (such as the Sun, Moon, Wind or Water) who can reach and convey her message to the beloved. She has no path or way to solve this problem. Meanwhile the separation is killing her from inside.

Kabir, in his mystical way, is comparing the separation of the individual from the universal self like that of a bride from her beloved. He explains that this insatiable thirst comes from the feeling of separation whose root lies in duality.

He then explains that the only person who can help out of this problem is the Guru. In his final parting signature note, Kabir reveals that the way to reach the beloved is not outside but Inside (similar to a dream-like state) which alone will satisfy the seemingly unending burning thirst.

Decision Taken

Not going.

A tough decision

This piece of news may not be known to most of you (I am assuming there are at least 5 readers of this blog besides me) - I have got a call for admission from IIM Lucknow for PGP starting this June. I have to send them a reply by the 26th of May. I have decided NOT TO GO. Unfortunately, the story does not end here. I am in such a pitiable state of confusion that I am zero confident of this decision. It has apparently not made my parents very happy and has left some of relatives baffled and I don't have any concrete reasons for the same.

So, here is my request to all my friends who care about me a bit - please give me convincing reasons one way or the other on why I should or should not go for this course. I have only today to make the decision. Tomorrow is the last day on which I could send a draft in case I am convinced to take up the course. I hope you guys will come out and help me.

Ah! Who can forget this?

"E lo kar lo baat. Are babuji aisi english ave that I can leave angrej behind. You see sir, I can talk english, I can walk english I can laugh english because english is a phunny language. Bhairon become baron and baron become Bhairon because their minds are very narrow. In the year 19 hundred and 29 sir, when India was playing against Australia in Melbourne city, Vijay Merchant and Vijay Hazare they were at the crease and Vijay Merchant told Vijay Hazare, look Vijay Hazare, this is a very prestigious match and you must consider this match very carefully. So considering the consideration that Vijay Hazare gave Vijay Merchant, Vijay Merchant told Vijay Hazare that ultimately we must take a run and when they were striking the ball on the left side sir, the consideration became into an ultimatum and ultimately Vijay Hazare went to Vijay Merchant and said...

- (Ranjit says) oh shut up -

Similarly Sir, In the year 19 hundred and 79 when India was playing against Pakistan in Wankhade stadium Bombay, Wasim Raja and Wasim Bari they were at the crease and Wasim Bari gave the same consideration to Wasim Raja and Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari look sir, this ultimately has to end in a consideration which I cannot consider. Therefore, the consideration that you are giving me must be considered very ultimately. Therefore, the run they were taking, Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari, Wasim Bari you take a run and ultimately both of them ran and considerately they got out."

ab kis se kahe.n hum apne dil ka fasaanaa
jab khuda hi nahi sunta to kya sunega zamaanaa

Proud and Loud declaration, a strong reprimand, an unexpected
rejection, and a tame denial.

All along in this drama, one thing became clearer - politicians are
not interested in the welfare of the society; to them the single most
important thing is the votes that would keep them in power.

Arjun Singh, notorious that he has been, once again played the crudest
form of a political gimmick that has eaten into the social fabric of
our country and in an attempt to be the messiah of the underprivileged
pushed the country further into a future of social disharmony and
intellectual incapacity.

With all due respect to Dr. Ambedkar who himself realized the
long-term implications of the reservation system, I do feel sad to
note that he inadvertently set a vicious cycle into motion that is not
only becoming difficult to end but also in the manner of a snowball
increasingly growing into being a major cause of social conflicts in
the country.

I have often mused over possible solutions to the very problem that
the policy of reservations seeks to address, that is, the problems of
inequality of social opportunities and an end to discrimination. None of
the solutions that seemed most intuitive to me indicated that the best
solution to tackle a form of discrimination is to reverse its
direction.

Creating awareness about the problem is one step, but utilising it to
cause further divide in the minds of the general populace is criminal.
If indulging in activity that harms the integrity and unity of our
country is a crime, then it is my firm belief that the propagators of
the reservation policy must be put behind bars and, in ideal cases,
hanged to death.

I as a citizen of this country strongly believe against
discrimination. I believe that all of us must be given equal social
opportunities in life and career. If there is one among us who is
unable to gain access to the opportunities due to constraints of money
or education or social stigma, then we must address the issues so that
the constraints are eliminated but the equality of opportunities is
not disturbed.

If a government is not able to address these issues and instead
indulges in encouraging the flames of discrimination among its own
countrymen, then such a government must not exist.

You can visit the following sites

http://iitiimres.blogspot.com
http://www.petitiononline.com/No_Quota/petition.html