Oh Captain! My Captain!

Sourav Ganguly retired today. For my generation of Indian cricket followers, it is, as aptly put by Sidhartha Vaidyanathan on Cricinfo, http://content-ind.cricinfo.com/magazine/content/current/story/376791.html, like the beginning of losing my religion.

To begin with, Sourav was a quota selection, from the then unsporting east. Not once, but twice. The first time is best not spoken of, the second is too often recounted. Even after that dream start, I took my time to warm up to him, having always been a sucker for technical virtuosity. Rahul Dravid, excepting this last phase, has always been my favorite. Sourav was God like on the off side but was always susceptible to give third slip or gully catching practice. He couldn't get a run on the leg side. Then there were the problems with the short ball. There was a period around 2000 when Sourav was most certainly the most destructive batsman in one day cricket but then one day cricket does not earn you respect with true believers. At this stage I should mention that I wouldn't be talking of one day cricket at all in here.

In test cricket, he played a few innings which earned him my respect. The first two centuries are hazy in memory and they didn't change much in terms of India's prospects in the match, the series or the immediate future. India continued to lose abroad, in England, in South Africa, in West Indies and in Australia. The first innings that sticks in memory, is the 98 he scored in Srilanka when India successfully chased down a target of 268. It's one of India's better run chases and it brought us victory on foreign soil, rare before then. He performed consistantly, if unspectacularly in West Indies. The the famous Brisbane century, when he scored 144, is by common agreement, Sourav's best. The ball was bouncing and moving and Sourav before then wasn't known to play well under those conditions. He played the innings of his lifetime, driving, cutting and most importantly, pulling the ball.

In terms of sustained performance, the phase after he returned to the team for the last time was the best. He had lost the fluency on the off side but what he had gained was solidity. In South Africa, in India against Pakistan, the first two tests in Australia, against South Africa in India and his last series against Australia, he was solid. This is when he became an Indian great for me, a solid, reasonably techincally accomplished, gifted Indian batsman. It is no coincidence that his batting average is the best over this period. A little sadly, but only just a little, for Sourav still accomplished enough, the solidity, the calmness came as the physical abilities were waning. Sourav was at his best as a batsman just as the body was tiring. A bit like Srinath, who also peaked close to his end. Sourav ended with the fourth highest tally of runs in test cricket by an Indian batsman and I would rate him thereabouts in my ranking of Indian batsmen.

Sourav's gift to Indian cricket though, was his captaincy. He is the most successful Indian captain ever, the first Indian captain to win abroad consistantly. This can, however be an accident, India simply have had their best team ever in this period. Ganguly wasn't tactically brilliant either, his most celebrated tactical move of irritating Steve Waugh by arriving late for toss began as an accident. He didn't always lead from the front, all his life he ran slower for other people's run than his own, his fielding was never international class. Still Sourav's captaincy was a boon for Indian cricket. What he brought to captaincy of the Indian cricket team were three things: faith, pride and ambition while playing for India, elimination of parochialism from Indian cricket and backing new comers. India began to gain respect for their test peformances, at home and away. Home victories were not always coming on doctored pitches and foregin victories were altogether new. What's more, these changes have come to stay. The team talks of becoming world champions, nobody speaks of regional quotas anymore and the newcomers whom he backed will back future generations of newcomers. This is Ganguly's lasting legacy. To the captain of the Indian cricket team of my youth, good bye and thanks for all the fish.

Friends III

Time went by and I hopped over from IIT to IIM. As to taking leave from IIT friends, we sadly and completely failed our motion picture ideals and a visit to Surd shop, which was incidently never owned by a Surd in my time at IIT, a brief, awkward hug and a shake of hands did it.

I had come to IIM full of noble intentions, determined to do my best, realize my potential, stuff of that sort. As such, building and maintaining a wide social circle wasn't exactly top most on my agenda. A friend or two, to borrow notes or discuss the finer points of Gaussian distribution governing stock returns (nobody will believe this in these days of free falling stock markets but back then we had a most romantic attachment to the theory) was the basic idea. However will power, of seeing the thing to the end is something that I have always found wanting in me and this occasion was no different. Soon I was thrown headlong in five irreversible friendships, with my co residents in the dorm. Considering that each of these aforesaid five guys were also saddled with five irreversible friendships, it made fifteen friendships in all. If you find the calculation taxing, use a calculator. Fifteen is a large number and one would think that we had nothing else to do but make friends. Yet as anybody who's gone through it and has also watched a few Hollywood movies of the right sort can tell you, the first year at IIM Ahmedabad is to academia what the US marines is to military training. One would also wonder that if six guys; three of whom were fat, three wore glasses, plus a fourth whom even glasses couldn't help, one who was going bald at 25, one who had been short ever since 15; to summarize, if six perfectly useless guys can generate so much warm friendship, why are we still having terrorist attacks? I think the world needs more friendships, particularly in early formative years.

Our common interests were: carrom, cricket and conversation. Well, there are other things but they don't start with a 'c' and will have to appear elsewhere. Carrom was our game, traffic was so heavy that the boards withered like cricket pitches do in India. Talking of Cricket; cricket is, well, cricket (I have become an expert in doing things in three, learning on the job you see) but the expertise resident in the dorm was extraordinary. The channel nine commentary team is no match to the group that had gathered. Conversation was mostly pointless, therefore highly entertaining and often indulged in post midnight. Now that the c's are done, lets move to other things. Can't keep important stuff out just because of some stupid alphabet. Studying together (yes, no use hiding that shame), movies, eating out (we had some impressive physiques to maintain and the mess food, though the best in Asia Pacific was simply inadequate), eating in, throwing water at random people passing the dorm, throwing water at each other (this had welcome hygiene consequences), singing songs raising the profile of our dormitory representative or simply singing songs in our cacophonous voices were other group activities that received our patronage.

There was depth of emotion, that's the easy bit. Which true relationship doesnt have it. What characterized these friendships was maturity, by a shared appreciation of living the small details, by a shared willingness for being children again. We were all adults, on the cusp of the final plunge in to the world of jobs and responsibilities (indeed most had had the first taste) and fully appreciated that this was our last chance of living freely. So, when we were dunking each other with water, or going for a cup of tea at four in the morning, or playing carrom for hours, it was with the knowledge that all this will soon be over. We lived every moment, knew it was great and knew it will be over. That to me is what made it special: often one doesnt know a great thing when one has it or isnt conscious of the fact that it will end, circumstances ripe for grief. No, this was satisfied happiness.

Breakfast with Reema Sen

After attending a brace of three hour long FGD’s in Hyderabad on Friday, which were, of course, designed to suck the life blood out of keen observers, I took the Saturday morning flight back. At the gate, they upgraded me to business class. I said a polite (usual service, I assure you, unlike the upgrade) and for once, heartfelt thank you and hopped in.

The business class, as the core group has experienced and the junta class has observed, has wide seats, plenty of leg room (though what I can do with extra leg room is a pertinent question), good cutlery and a pillow for every passenger. This pillow I did not like, it seems to give pain to the part of body that rests on it. Just as I had started savouring the business class bar the pillow, a beautiful girl came and stood next to me. Now, moments like these are always moments of tribulation for me. A bit like the case of those Israeli kids who where stuck with a lot of water around them until Moses came around. Boys’ school, long years in IIT, the works, you see. Turns out the lady wants to access her seat, which, as it happens, is the window seat that sits cheek by jowl with my aisle seat. I have already alluded to the ample leg room and the inadequacy of my legs in dealing with them and now wondered as to why the lady doesn’t just sail in. Anyway, since she keeps standing, I politely ask, “Would you like me to step out?” Since she doesn’t say no, I understand it means yes (always a useful policy). I step out. She throws a bunch of magazines on her seat, one of which is the Vogue and shoves her shiny crocodile leather bag in the overhead baggage bin and sits down monopolizing the common armrest between the two of us with her papers. I am feeling much annoyed but being an ardent admirer of Bertie Wooster and inspired by his ideal of preux cavalier, I hold my peace, leaving my arm hanging in mid air. I was looking darkly at the papers that had encroached upon my space when my eyes fell on the name on the boarding pass. I was sitting next to Reema Sen. For those who don’t know her, (Oh! the presumption of wide readership), she is an actor of Hindi and Bengali movies.

Now I have previously been upgraded to business class. But so far, my lot always has been politicians. What else would you expect if you fly business class to Patna, where, I am told by well informed sources, actress of any kind, hue or disposition have not set foot since Ashoka was spreading Buddha’s message of peace and love around these parts. Anyway, the lesson learnt is that one should never stop dreaming, for, guys: ‘the dreams of men, the seeds of commonwealth, the germs of empire’ (Book: Heart of Darkness. Author: Joseph Conrad. And no, the book isn’t about Bihar).
I thought whether I should ask her for her autograph but then the pride of an elite consultant reasserted itself and I desisted. Did you say, “you fool”? I agree. I spent the rest of the flight trying not to embarrass myself in anyway, ate my breakfast with minimal movement, careful not to elbow her. I did squirt a little of the Fruit and Dahi in her general direction but that was faulty packaging, not me. And, mark you, I made no attempts to wipe it off. As for conversation, you are already aware of my chivalrous offer to step out, to which she gave mute consent. Next she asked me if I minded her taking my TOI, to which I replied, in my typical foot in mouth style, “Yes, yes, take it. I only read TOI when I am feeling particularly stupid.” This was of course before I knew she was Reema Sen and she didn’t catch the import of my words anyway.

For those who care, Reema is about five feet four, is dusky in complexion and had bags under her eyes that morning. I would definitely recommend more sleep. She was wearing a black blouse, khaki cotton skirt and flat leather sandals. As for accessories she had Dolce & Gabbana glasses in her hair and a beaded wrist band, this on her wrist. Early morning attire I guess. No nail polish on fingers and faded nail polish on toe nails. And in case you want to ask her out for a casual tête-à-tête over tea, she likes her tea with milk but no sugar.

Bohemia!

I grew up with typical middle class values like:
1. Do things for a purpose. There is no point in doing something only because you like doing it.
2. Spend only on necesscities. Everything else is wasting hard earned money.
3. Pleasure is frivolous/ sinful/ wasteful. Time and money and energy spent on pleasure could be used for more purposeful activities.
4. Plan and work for the future. If its needed, bear pain in the present so that you may rejoice in the future.

Slowly as I grew up, doubtful thoughts emerged. Why should I do everything for some purpose? Why shouldn't I take a walk in the park if I feel like it? Or read a book through the night even though the morrow is a working day? Why not spend on something I don't really need but which I may enjoy, like a car? Why not seek pleasure, purely for itself. It may heal the soul. As for planning for the future: Aren't we always planning for the future? Isn't the present also worth something? In preparing for the future, we ignore the present and remain with unfulfilled wishes. Live for the moment, for pleasure, for non purpose: Bohemia.

I may outgrow this phase as well and my roots may call again. After all, whats learnt early dies last. Do we stop breathing?

Intelligence

I am reading 'Life of Pi'. Haven't finished, so this isnt a review. I would like to quote though,"When an animal decides to do something, it can continue doing it for a long time". When compared to us, animals are so much more powerful. A chimpanzee has five times the upper body strength of humans (so I read at the Basel zoo). Many animals are far more powerful than us. Many are quicker. Many have stronger senses of smell, sight and hearing. I often wonder, were it not for our greater mental faculties, we would long have been as dead as dodos. Its almost a slight, of nature or God, to have made us weaker in body and then to have given us our intelligence, for us to conquer, dominate and bring to the doorstep of annihilation all animals but ourselves, and even ourselves, going by the way we are destroying our planet. Its like those stories in scriptures where the weakling has that one immortal weapon with which to vanquish all adversaries.

Growth in a democracy

I have increasingly been shunning politics, both as a person and as a citizen. However, the recent energy crisis, my stock market investments and the work I am doing these days has set me thinking. In this context, I have been thinking, historians will struggle to explain the mistake we are making as a nation.

I am talking of the nuclear deal. Why won't we sign it? In an conventional-energy starved country such as ours, nuclear power is the only viable alternative. And that nuclear power is currently locked behind the deal. We won't sign it because some political party will make the government fall. Its infuriating. This same party welcomed the chinese attack on India, saying that the revolution is coming.

I came across this website,http://www.growthcommission.org/ . Havent read the papers yet but seems interesting.

Choices

In my school library there were books in which you made your own story. What happened was, that after every few pages, the book would present a choice: go to page 23 or go to page 47. If you went to page 23, the story will proceed in a certain way and if you went to page 47, it progressed in another.

Life, if one thinks of it, proceeds in a similar fashion. After every few pages, one is confronted with a choice which affects the rest of it. Ofcourse, real life is far more complex and there's a choice after every breath so to speak, but if one were to single out the really important choices, one can reach the 'every few pages' analogy.

What were these choices for me, so far? I would exclude chance happenings which deflected me one way rather than the other but include the one decision taken by others to have substantially impacted my life.

These decisions are:
1. To admit me in the best school in town back in class 3.
2. To leave the town for my plus 2 and decide to do it at my uncle's place.
3. To not go to Calcutta for final prep just before JEE.
4. To work really hard at IIM.
5. To not ask the girl I thought was perfect for me if she fancied me.
6. To accept a domestic job and decline going abroad.

In the next post, I would list the chance happenings that have had the greatest impact on my life. These chance happenings, if one were to keep the same cut off vis-a-vis impact, are many more than the decisions. Importance of chance in life!!

As I finish college

I had written this about 13 months ago, about the time I was graduating. It is incomplete but I will leave it as such since it cannot be finished in the same frame of mind.

I have completed my college education, at least for now. For the first time since I entered school on 21st February 1985, I will not be student.

In the meantime, USSR fell and the Soviet communist propaganda magazine in Hindi that we used to get at home stopped coming. Its Hindi was quaint and I used to like it. All the stories were of workers great struggle against the elite. How the façade fell in a couple of years. Around the time, Doordarshan showed a serial on Nadia Comaneci and I was in love with her.

I was at my Mausi’s place when Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. I was the first in the household to look at the newspaper at 5:40 in the morning. Of course, the magnitude of the event was beyond me. A couple of years ago, in the 1989 elections, Rajiv Gandhi came to campaign in Bhagalpur. I wanted to see him but nobody was ready to take me to the ground where he was going to make a speech. I was miserable and, if I remember correctly, even cried. My Uncle took pity and we set forth for the meeting ground. Only we were too late and Rajiv Gandhi’s helicopter was already in the air by the time we reached. Thus I was never to see him. I might not see a lot of India’s Prime Minister’s but I don’t think I will miss seeing any of them as I missed seeing Rajiv Gandhi that day. Such are the emotions of childhood, brief but intense.

I had started reading the newspaper a couple of years before Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination when there were communal riots in my town and for one whole month I had nothing to do. I could only read the Hindi newspaper then and don’t remember what I read. I was in awe of a cousin of mine who would copy passages from the English newspaper. This prowess of his was a matter of discussion in the extended family.

Somewhere around the time petrol and LPG became scarce. Kuwait war was on. I remember going with my grandfather to get petrol for his car. Some days we will not get petrol. Similar was the tale with LPG; only that it was my mother who was more worried this time.

The 1988 and 1992 Olympics gave me my first idea of India’s position in the comity of nations. Sporting success and country’s well being became intrinsically linked in my mind. All the economic progress of recent times has only dimmed the idea.

A lot of changes happened after the liberalization of 1991. Lehar Pepsi had come to the market. Coca Cola followed suit. Soon it bought out the Parle group. After initial attempts to shelve the Parle brands, Coca Cola found out that it cannot do without Thums Up. However, the rest of them, Gold Spot and Limca did die a quiet death. Cable television came in. For the first time we had five instead of one channel on TV. Oh, the allure! I used to wake up at 3 a.m. in the morning to see India being blown off by New Zealand, a nation of 3 million people but I could see India play in foreign grounds all right.

Economic progress became the watch word. Newspapers started giving GDP growth numbers, inflation statistics and stock index movements more prominence. India was soaring by the mid nineties. The space program was also making decent progress. It was the first round of hope.
There were problems too, chiefly relating to violence. Kashmir kept burning although the fire in Punjab as put out, partly by force, partly by statecraft but majorly (not a word) due to the fact the inciter found a better incitee (not a word). Babri masjid was demolished. There were riots in Mumbai, not once but twice. Only a nation as desperately poor and ill-educated as ours could die and kill for religion.

My first car trip

I drove down to Pune last weekend. The car's new, the driver's inexperienced and was a little scared. Well wishers scared him further by talking of the rashness of the traffic on the expressway and the distance to Pune (220 Kms against the actual 160). Nothwithstanding I started. A hiccup near Panvel, the symbol on my luggage space lever and fuel tank lever are swapped resulting with the tank mouth not opening and the fuel running too low to go anywhere, resulted in fair amount of panic and an hour of delay. Once this was resolved and my car was fed and its pressure checked, I was on my way.

What a joy it was. Once the expressway starts its sheer joy. The road is good, surprizingly people maintain a fair degree of lane discipline, and, if you can dare to look sideways, the view is also spectacular. I, of course, had my sights firmly on the road and my foot on the throttle. Normally somebody who's accused by friends of being too slow on the road, even I could hit 140ks. Most of the way, except for the Ghat section, I could drive at 100+ and the entire 93 kms stretch took an hour ten. At times, on curves and at higher speeds, one can feel the steering wheel shaking against the arms. The whole body is focussed at the task, there's nothing but the road and the machine and you. In that one hour, I got the essence of motor racing. God! I wish we have more roads like these. Doing Mumbai Goa in five hours would be an experience. :)

In Pune, I met up with cousins. We talked, ate, roamed around and watched Narnia. Its so easy to talk with cousins probably because you have been doing it since you were in shorts. All in all a very pleasant weekend. The second Narnia is as good as the first one. I love fantasies anyway.

The way back was every bit as enjoyable as the onward trip. If anything because I was anticipating it, I enjoyed it even more. At the end of the day, the trip left me very tired. But it was the good kind of tired. I am itching to do many more such trips. Ofcourse the road wont be as good everywhere but we will live with it. Sadly, I am going away for a month. Let's see when the next opportunity comes up.

Alcohol or survival of the fittest, drunken stupor

I love alcohol. In the otherwise conformist life, this is one streak of rebellion. With the growing acceptance of social drinking its not much of a rebellion anyway. But my case, I would like to believe (vanity you know) is different. I love alcohol, as against consuming it to observe social protocol. I don't like the taste, rather mask it by making cocktails. What I like are the after effects. Not the ones in the morning. Those I avoid by drinking humongous amounts of water during the night. I like the immediate after effects. The relaxation, the heightening of the senses and the slowing of the movements, the courage and the abandon.

Of course, according to public wisdom, a drinking habit is a flaw. I dont quite believe in the wrongness of it. It satisfies my needs and I fulfill it of my accord, just like an animal sourcing its own food and drink. What makes anything wrong or right any way? There are three answers to choose from:

1. Rules of the animal kingdom (but we arent animals, vain descendants of chimpanzees)
2. Universal ( of course, the Homo sapeins universe) ethics
3. Laws of the land

Most people would say number two. It is human vanity, belief in the species superiority over every other, despite the fact that we live in a way that is going to destroy our very existance within the century. Let it be. I quite like the animal. Survival of the fittest.

Friends II

It's been a while and the fact will show, one fears. Therefore I pick a topic closer to heart than most so that the piece is not altogether rubbish. Alternately there's the danger of not doing justice to something important but I will take it.

I came to IIT Delhi on 19th July 2000 and stayed there for the next five years. Stayed more than studied but no regrets, it did not leave me ill prepared for life . Life is made agreeable not only on the basis of skills acquired in the past but also on the basis of pleasures and warm memories acquired in the same past. Importance of having a good time and gathering warm feelings is something we often ignore, at our own perils, in our preparation for the future. For then we are left extremely capable but also extremely empty with a lot of time gone by. It's a delicate balance: prepare for the future by working but also by having a good time today. It is a philosophy that took me many years to learn although I was, unconsciously and due to institutional tensions, living it ever since I joined IIT. Of course, the awareness of it makes life all the more sweeter now.

Pardon my digression and let me jump to the topic. IIT has vast expanses, of space and time. There are many places and much time to sit and talk. And there's nothing like talk, drink and food come second and third, for forming deep, life-long friendships. My core group was made by the intersection of the department and the hostel but it was clearly the hostel that was the determining factor, for then, we were spending practically all our hours together. A second part of the group was made of hostel guys from other departments. There were other people, unrelated through bonds of either hostel or department, that are friends. As I said, there was enough time and space to form as many friendships as possible. Glad to have made full use of the resources.

We attended classes together and often agreed together to bunk them. Exams were tided over through model cooperation and minimal effort. Movies, eat outs, sports, card and computer games, booze sessions, inter hostel events, applications for internships, cribbing about professors, insipid coursework, bad mess food, archaic hostel laws and administrative bodies were on the agenda. Conversations on girls, books, politics- institutional or national, anything. Taking people's "case" filled in if all else failed. No one was spared. We learnt to talk, only thing people compliment me on these days. After some time, it became unnecessary to talk for we became friends who could enjoy each other's company regardless, reading a newspaper together for example. I got so used to always having company that to the day I can't stand being alone. On getting a job, the first thing I did was to find flat mates, for I couldn't bear the thought of living alone. Whenever I go to Delhi, the treat is to meet my Delhi based IIT friends.

Yesterday, a larger group met in Delhi. One of the guys had come over from the US. It was great. None of us are the kind who write mails, chat on gtalk or call and there's always the fear that next time when we meet we may meet strangers rather than friends. But all that is not to be. The roots run too deep and when rains come all the leaves and flowers come blooming out. We chattered till we were crazy, relieved and happy that all was as should be. Some others were missed and it would be nice if we can all be together. But till that happens there is no fear, for we are friends for ever and the conversations will flow forever.

Thoughts at Patna Airport

Patna airport is the first that I have visited that allows mere visitors, as against bona-fide travelers, in the terminal. There is a fee but that's that. I wonder why? It’s also a one horse saloon with only eight flights in the day, and a common smallish terminal for arrivals and departures. However, newspapers tell us that business is booming and annual revenue target for the year is nearly met. I had difficulty in finding a booking. Also, while returning, when I tried to get on to an earlier flight it was full. May be, it’s the Diwali season; but may be, it’s just that demand on the sector exceeds supply. I am told that airlines are reluctant to increase number of flights because they have to fly half full aircrafts from Patna airport due to its smallish not extendible airstrip. So, that’s that.

I was extremely pleased with the signs of development I could see all around me in Bihar this time. I had been hearing a lot of positive noises from the present government but was skeptical. However this time I could see progress. Quite a few roads in the hometown are under construction, to apparently good standards. Street lighting is in much better shape and is finally lumbering out of the 200W bulb era. Garbage is being cleaned regularly, with machinery being used as well. Hospitals, including those for animals, are working and even providing medicines. Lots of government institutions are seeing fresh construction and maintenance. On an 8 kilometer drive in Patna I could see three flyovers under construction. All these are heartening signs. Crime has definitely come down (though Bihar is definitely not crimeless) and even influential criminals are being punished. If the government can continue the good work, and also induce industry to set up shop I feel Bihar would e on its way. It won't become Gujarat but at least its development will keep pace with the rest of the country.

I had three dreamless nights of sleep at home. I don't remember when I last had dreamless sleep. I think I have started dreaming a lot since I started work though I am not so sure. Besides, I am normally a very light sleeper but at home I slept very very soundly. I don't think it has much to do with peace, quiet et cetera. My family wakes up at an unearthly early hour and they are as noisy in the morning as anyone can be with my grandfather's radio blaring out pre dawn news. May be it’s because of lack of cares/ concerns at home.

A three day trip home was perfect. It was long enough to meet family and have a short rest. Also, it was short enough not to get bored or be hounded by too many "Beta, shaadi kar le" conversations. However admitting the same to family will be catastrophic with plenty of rona dhona. I wish they would just heed my pleas and stop bothering me with marriage calls for the while. Of all Indian customs, at the moment I find arranged marriages most abhorrent. I consider it the genesis of a plethora of wrongs including dowry, female infanticide and castism. Have you heard of dowry when people marry for love? If there are no dowries, female infanticide will come down significantly. Belief is that preference for male heirs is dictated by economics along with age old notions of "vansh" et cetera. Also, when one falls in love, does one think of caste? Inter caste marriages will automatically spell doom for caste system for what’s the caste of a mixed caste couple's off spring. All this besides the fact that arranged marriages are both a compromise and a blind gamble. They survive only because of the spirit of compromise that makes the match possible in the first place.

Diwali @ Home and Money

This is not about sweets, though I am clearly worried about the quantities I have consumed over the last three days. This isn't about crackers either. My brother lighted plenty of them while I watched. So much so that my brother remarked, "It's much more fun to watch rather than to light crackers oneself". Something which I have known for many many years. Age and wisdom, you see.

I got to spend Diwali at home after a full 10 years. Last time I was home for Diwali was when I was in class Xth, same as my brother today. Time flies really quickly; I was surprized to realize the fact. Anyways, I remember the excitement and the work I would put in to light up the whole house, terrace and boundary walls with earthern lamps. My brother now does it with electric lights and the whole bloody job is outsourced to boot.

This Diwali was special for me because it was my first Diwali as an earning person. I could buy stuff for the house and family. Money well spent. For me, today money is an enabler, nothing more, nothing less. Mere accumulation holds no attraction for me, except, in passing, under peer pressure. Thankfully, peer pressure hasnt got to me on this one topic. I havent done anything to accumulate money so far, though its definitely early. In fact, I exert my own kind of peer pressure on my friends and definitely loosen their purse strings. I even have an orkut testimonial to vouch for it (naughty smile). My contribution to the consumption side of the India growth story. Money's attraction for me is in what it can do for me. I dont know whether its right or wrong. Time will tell, may be in ten years I will know better.

One day when I was really frustrated with the job, my friend said, "Try and remember the things that this job makes possible for you and your frustration will go away". Truth, pure unadulterated truth. I experienced it over the last three days.

Children

As a kid, I had a vivid imagination. In my childhood, we lived on the first floor of double storied houses at two places. Sitting at one of the windows, till I was about 6-7, I would imagine a whole host of things. Most of those fantasies I have now forgotten but one of them I still remember. It was to swim in a pool, get out and have Cola. Sitting at the windows of the second of the two houses we stayed at, I would imagine that the courtyard below had changed in to a swimming pool and I was swimming in it. At that point of time, I had never seen a swimming pool in real life, nor could I make out the real size of a pool from images I would have seen on TV. Therefore, the small courtyard downstairs sufficed as a swimming pool. Immediately after swimming, I would wrap myself in a blue towel and lounge on a deck chair sipping a cola.

I did not see a swimming pool till I came to IIT. I never learnt to swim. So the fantasy remained a fanstay. What has changed is the ease with which I now sip a cola. We weren't exactly poor but we couldn't afford a cola everytime I wanted it either. Also, Cola wasn't available at every corner shop. So I would have Cola when we went to the main market. When a neighbourhood shop started stocking Cola, I would sometime steal money to buy a bottle. Because I knew that we couldn't afford it, I wouldn't ask for money. Even in stealing, I wouldn't steal too often. Now, I have enough and more money to drink as much Cola as I want. Its another matter that my ever expanding waistline says I shouldn't.

These memories bubbled up today and I felt sad about my own childhood. Then a million other childhood's came to mind which are even worse. Its all very sobering. I had the benefit of an excellent education, thanks to my father. That made the difference. Education is the differentiator.

Ambitions

Think: 80%, Communicate: 20%.
Relate theory to practice.
Think before speaking.
Never be a postman.
Clarify roles and responsibilities.
Carefully think about approach to professional relationships.
Think about other people's motivations.
Stop cribbing professionally.
Seperate working hours from fun hours.
Switch off post work.
Have fun post work.
Learn to have fun without drinking.

Metal detectors and being effeminate

Why can't cinema halls have metal detectors for security checks? In their absence, their security personnel have a field day groping all and sundry in the garb of frisking. The experience is amazing in its consistancy. It happens at every cinema hall in the country. Seems they have all included it in their procedure for providing superior customer experience. God! Save me from superior service. I can understand how girls feel when they get similar unwanted attention from certain men. Its disgusting but not, I dare say, as much as this superior customer experience for three reasons. One, at least it doesn't happen at, through (whatever) the hands of somebody from the same sex. Two, it doesn't wear a garb of legitemacy and one can move away, protest, give a dirty look, beat up (depending on the possibilities, dictated by the circumstance). Three, the thoroughness and the professionalism of the cinema job simply cannot be matched by furtive, blink and you miss it efforts made on crowded roads, public transports et cetera.

Within a week, I have been chided by two girls for being effeminate. I don't know what to make of it. I am midly perturbed and amused by it. It surely is a huge change from my school days, when I can safely say that I was one of the bullies, bad boys. Out of the hardships experienced then arose a desire to better oneself. Paths of righteousness were explored and walked down. I think this sucked out all the bravado and some of the ego of human males from me. I am just saying that men and women have different types of ego. While I can make an effort to describe them but I think its better that everybody thinks about it himself/ herself. Two presumptions, regarding readership and its willingness to ponder over my writing are both examples of the ego common ground between men and women but there are gender specific ego points as well. Digressions aside, lack of male bravado, bluster and ego coupled with certain habits acquired have threatened to give me an effeminate tag. However, people who know me better would never say I am effeminate. They know a nasty, ugly side of me remains, which surfaces far less frequently but every so often. Also, I think that these habits and sweet exterior are just the surface. Scratch it and one can find a practical, almost unemotional , mean me.

orkut description

March-August 2007

I am a standard issue human male of Indian origin- did my undergrad in engineering and my post grad in management. I have joined work recently. I have always been so grounded in reality that going orthogonal to it is a huge temptation for me at times.
I aspire for beauty and sweetness in life and aim to live the small details- doing the small things that make me happy.
My undergrad took me to Delhi, post grad to Ahmedabad and job has brought me to Mumbai. Will I survive Mumbai? Hope springs eternal
I like to write. I like people reading my writing even more. Here’s the link: http://achaln.blogspot.com

Three months into my first job

Its been exactly three months since I began working. It it too early to pass judgement on its pleasures, trials and tribulations but its time to take stock. Its not been hard work. My mind does not shut off the moment it hits the pillow, some days I have to cajole it in a million different ways for it to lose its grip on reality and make acquaintance with dreams. At the same time, its been stressful. My job requires me to listen to, talk to and convince a lot of people. This is what has proved to be stressful. Doing work by oneself is not difficult at all. Our education system teaches us to do exactly that and people who excel through the system do not find it difficult to do things by themselves in the job. However, the same system does not teach, and I agree its not easy to teach such things in classroom situations, inter personal skils. All the heartburn in my job emanates from the difficulties I face in inter personal situations.

Another thing that's become apparent is: working a job requires a lot of patience. No matter how fast one wants to and can move, work will only move at the pace of the slowest link involved. I have been impatient, leading to a lot of anguish. Its a fine line. One has to be impatient and push for results but at the same time have the awareness of one individual's limitations in a team set up to push things.

I also have the feeling that I have been intellectually lazy. This has two parts. One, I have got in to an execution mind set: let others do the thinking and I will execute it. It clearly hasn't worked. Other people also haven't thought much about it since it was my job. I haven't been able to influence things as much as I would have liked. Also, it has led to a lower level of job satisfaction. Second, I havent kept track of what is expected of me.

Lastly, I have the vague feeling of dislocation. Today, I can't tell you where my home is. I can solve it by getting used to the idea or getting a girl friend. Of course, getting a girl friend is a solution to a lot of other things, but that for another time :)

What I think I have to do to be a lot more happier in work and hence in life:
1. Prepare for people interactions
2. Be patient
3. Work harder intellectually
4. Get a girlfriend :D:D

Strawberry Cheese Cake

For all the subsequent disappointments that all of us have had to face from Nain, I must still thank him for introducing me to Strawberry Cheese Cake (SCC from here on). I was 21, Bush was about to start the war in Iraq and I hadn't been introduced to SCC. Good job Nain did there. Another step in the education of the middle class, small town boy.

I have always been partial to sweet things. OK, this includes women too but sweets of the culinary variety came first. It has had its consequences. Nobody has to date urged my mother to feed me better. One of my mother's friends who was eyeing me for her daughter even suggested otherwise. I promptly cleaned her plate of gulab jamuns to contribute my bit towards dissuading her from her dangerously dangerous designs. Very satisfactory day of business that one.

To return to business here, my earliest memories are of going to school on a daily retainer of 4 rasogulle. I absolutely refused to go to school unless promised rasogulle for lunch. Then I got hooked to the whole school business; the lunch time games and Nisad Mehndi and my retainer was reduced to 2 per day and finally stopped all together. I was introduced to injustice and the utility of keeping one's emotion to oneself.

Ah! I was to speak of SCC's. They are made of a thin layer of sliced strawberries laid over a syrupy layer of strawberry derivative laid over a far thicker layer of some knid of cheese laid over a thin layer of almost always disgusting biscuit like substance (thats the only part I don't like and frequntly give it to the person on my right). I wouldn't bet my life on it but I think that defines SCC quite well. For best results, SCC is to be had by cutting thin vertical slices of strawberry layers and cheese layer leaving the biscuit layer undisturbed. Roll the bit around the front of your tongue and you may experience heaven, although having no experience of the heaven experience I cannot vouch for its goodness in the same way as I can vouch for SCC's goodness. There are two restaurents in Delhi which make excellent SCC, one is the very old establishment in CP (where nothing is new) and one is a very small establishment in Gk, Gourmet something. In Ahmedabad, Upper Crust offers the goodie, although of wildly varying quality. Of course, the said SCC tastes much better if the hole it burns is in somebody's else pocket.

Immoral

Ram Gopal does not make easy movies. "Nishabd" continues the tradition. Its depressing in the hopelessness of everybody's situation. There is a lot of controversy about this movie, people are protesting against it's immorality. These are my thoughts after the movie:

Among animals, the male and the female do not come together on basis of some contract. There are no age or other apppropriateness restrictions. Quite frequently, if the male is able to woo the female that is it. I do not know if there is rape in the animal kingdom but I suspect there might be. Nothing preempts it. However, there can't be gang rapes. Animals won't collaborate for that. There's a difference and people have tried to sepearte the case of one man alone raping a woman from a gang rape. At the cost of enraging the feminists, I think there's a point there. However, this is neither here nor there.

On to humans. Men and women traditionally come together on the basis of some contract. While the necessity of marriage has significantly dwindled in the west, in India it still holds by and large. There are age and other appropriateness conditions on whom you can marry and mate with. The logic is: these are necessities for human society to function. I think its true. We have a synthetic society (vis-a-vis animals) and it needs special conditions.

But what if a non-appropriate man-woman pair get attracted to each other: want to hold hands, sing songs, cook, mate. Problem, my dear Watson. If one of them is already in an appropriate pairing; kaput. The taboo of divorce makes the situation even more complicated.

So, whether we love or not is not important. What is important is whether we make appropriate pairings and add to our already excessive population.

Another thought: In Mahabharat, Kunti has the blessing that she will forever remain young. Somebody asks, Yudhisthir, "Don't you lust after your mother?" Yudhisthir says, yes, but I control my passions through reason.

Reason, be reasonable.