My India, the India eternal...

This is the title of a book I read long time back on the life and work of Swami Vivekananda. It also had some essays on the India he envisaged. I was in class 10 when I read that and was mightily inspired. A dozen years later, I am pissed off with the excuse for a nation called India!

I have refrained from talking politics on my blog, there are too many people who talk about it and not too many takers (not that many people read my blog anyway! :) ) but it was a deliberate choice. I felt that the caste/regional/communalist/communist political stands will not affect me ever, so always ignored the political mire. Never voted (not because I did not want to, but because I was never in my hometown at the time of elections), but have followed the happenings closely.
Today is a different day though. I feel angry, and I feel like I need to slap Raj Thackrey today. And the spineless Congress and toothless BJP. I feel like slapping every politician from every political party.

Firstly, over the last week there have been a huge debate over the singing of Vande Matram in madarssas. Honestly, I don't believe in nation, I have no patriotic sentiments. The only act of patriotism I have ever done was to donate blood for Kargill relief and that was 10 years ago I guess. It was the hangover of Swami Vivekananda's book. I am over it. I feel standing for national anthem is an exercises, but I do it. Because the sensible people of this country while giving me freedom of speech asked that as a price and I am cool with it. I get to pee where ever I want and for that if I have to stand for 52 seconds in a cinema hall, its not that bad, is it? So I cannot understand why there is such huge furore over singing Vande Matram. Either you make it compulsory or abolish. What the hell is voluntary patriotism?

Secondly, MNS beat up Abu Azmi for taking oath in Hindi, our "national" language. Well, my respect for nation is well explained above, so you can well understand what I feel about the whole incident. I love Hindi, am pretty good at it, but my love for language is not shared by MNS, too bad! They don't respect the constitution, well, neither would I if I had the choice. MNS is above law and I have already talked about my faith in the Judiciary.

What makes me angry is the cheapness of the show put up by our politicians. Look at Madhu Koda, what a brilliant con he pulled on Jharkhand. Brilliant. And here in Maharashtra we are fighting about whether or not an oath can be taken in Hindi.
I want to slap politicians not for their ineffectiveness, but for not entertaining us enough. In Karnataka the CM did a decent job by weeping in front of cameras, admitting that his priority was to save his government and not the flood relief. Good job sir, that's why they elected you, to save the government and not the flood victims. Who cares about the flood victims anyway, they don't have enough to bribe.
Madhu Koda taught us how to milk a bull. Did he robbed Jharkhand well!Loved it. (Jharkhand is my home state, and I think it is quite oxymoronic that I don't like the idea of nation, state is not that bad. The lesser of the two evils perhaps!)

I think we should be sending our ministers. MPs and MLAs to Europe. Learn for Sarkozy's and Berlusconi's of the world. Give us some value for the taxes that we pay!

Octopus and OUROBOROS

They say hunger is the root of all troubles in the world. Greed is nothing but an insatiable hunger. Plato imagined "Ouroboros", the perfect animal which can eat itself when hungry. I have learnt that some species of octopus can also do it, they can "shed" one arm of theirs and eat it when under stress or intense hunger.

Sounds really crazy, but some thing that can sustain on itself would be great thing to have. Imagine if happiness can sustain on itself, I am happy today because I was happy yesterday and I will be happy tomorrow because I am happy today. Too bad it isn't the case.

What can sustain on itself is frustration. Unhappy with the current state of affairs, you try to change it and when it doesn't work out, it yields more frustration. But if it does work out, it brings immense amount of joy and relief.

But the joy has a short life span, and frustration seems to be endless. As if it is like the vast stretch of the dark sky above me, and I am just walking being guided by the stars that twinkle, like hope. Hope, is the only weapon one has against frustration.

I take a deep breath, look myself in the mirror and promise myself that tomorrow would be better. Thus I start my day, getting ready for the office.

Tea and me!

If you ever asked me that what would I prefer, tea or coffee, it would always be tea, unless I am trying to act sophisticated (which I some times do!). Good old desi, I like my tea to be served hot and I take my own sweet time to drink it. Ginger over cardamom, little sugar, loads of milk and a good gossip, that's all that I need. I don't hate the CCDs and the Baristas of the world for not serving good tea. Tea is best had in the roadside dhabas, munching over a small pack of Parle-G and discussing the seriousness in the world with a smile on your lips.

Tea is not just a beverage, its like a dialect. Every place leaves its own mark on it but unlike people leaving marks on the monuments and making it ugly, tea is prettier for the marks people and places put on it. I believe the quality of the tea served in a place tells you a lot about the people that inhabit that place. The way it is served, the way it is had and the way you pay for it,

tells you how the place like to be treated, and how you can expect yourself to be treated.

I have traveled a bit and have found myself hating cities because they do not have the "Tea Culture". Take Delhi for example. The city boasts of two of the best universities in India (DU and JNU) truck loads of colleges and students swarming like bees. But hang around the campuses and you would not get the kind of "Chai" that you would expect. Students' tea ought to be light on the milk, strong with the leaves, a shade of ginger that leaves a good aftertaste which would help if you are smoking while having your tea. Unfortunately, Delhi's tea is just the opposite. Too much of milk, almost no ginger and light on tea leaves. Too smooth for my liking, as if the city wants to conceal its rudeness in the tea that it is serving.

Add to it the fact that your would be hard pressed to find a tea joint in most areas, and even more so on a Sunday. Why on earth should one be deprived of the joy of having a good tea on a Sunday?

If you ever visit Kolkata, you will be surprised to see the kind of tea served there. First the liquor is made and then the milk is added to it. A time saving way of making tea. One would be surprised because in Kolkata, every one has a lot of time, the laid back attitude of the city has not corrupted the way the tea is made though.

Thats a very British way of making tea, and the raj days are still there to be seen in Kolkata. The British Babudom has paved way for the Bengali Babudom. But bureaucracy nonetheless.

Pune for that matter doesn't care about anything. The place is young, vibrant and ambitious. The place is trying hard to get out of the Pensioner's Paradise image of its. The tea in Pune is served in a set of cup and plates and people drinking tea of their plates instead of cup is a very common sight. But you will also find places where tea is served in glasses and it makes me wonder if the city has not yet identified its true self.

And that brings me to my favorite city, Mumbai. Everything in Mumbai runs at a fanatic pace, except the tea shops. The fast food of the city is Vada Pav, a quick desi burger. The choicest mode of transport is the Fast Local, the breakfast is a quick fix Misal Pav( and I love it!) but the tea is laid back. Stirred in a Brass vessel to perfection, good dose of ginger and less sugar, it is tasted by the vendor first to ensure that it has his hallmark on it and then it is served. Nobody rushes through a cup of tea in Mumbai, as if it is their "Me-Time".

Me, my cup of tea and my balcony on a rain washed evening. Life is not that bad after all! :)

Intellectual Property, and a farce that is Indian Judicial System

OKTATABYEBYE!
How many times in our lives have we used this phrase? But it seems that since 'Tata' is a brand name, one not can use it for any product or services. Bullshit.
Check Merriam Websters, the phrase Ta-ta originated in 1823, a full 16 years before Jamshedji Tata was born and 80 years before Tata Steel was founded. Can the Tata's rightfully claim ownership of the phrase?
Indian agriculture ministry argued the case for Basmati rice when it was to be patented by some American firm, saying that the usage of Basmati rice in India dates years ago and quoted ancient Indian poems in its support. So, by that logic, you cannot patent something that existed much earlier.
How come brand names are trademarked then? Well, it is the usage of a phrase in some context. You can start a hotel chain with the name Adidas, not another apparel range. That is to protect the consumer from counterfeits and helping the companies reap the benefit of creating a brand.
But it certainly doesn't mean that Mr.Jobs owns all the usage of the word "Apple". We should still be able to use the phrase, "an apple a day, keeps a doctor away".

Whats the issue with OKTATABYEBYE?
That MakeMyTrip wanted to name a portal OKTATABYEBYE and the Tatas found it infringement of their IP over the brand name. And guess what, the court ruled it in favour of the Tatas!
Ridiculous.
1) The context of the usage of the word TATA is not as a brand but as a word of English language.
2) TATAs are not in the travel business and MakeMyTrip's proposition is completely different.
3) The pharse used is self explanatory and in no way uses the word TATA as a brand.

Why did the court ruled it in favor of the TATAs?

Why do you think I call the Indian Judicial System a farce?

Living an image

I work as a Sales Manager in a Internet Media Company. I have loads of programmers, journalists, movie critics and other sales people around me. In the building that I have my office, on one of the floors is the office of one the popular English Dailys and thus, have more of journalists and movie critics, the so-called opinionated and creative crowd.
So when I go down for a cup of tea and smoke with my friends, I just cant help but notice the stereotypes.
Think of an Indian Journalist, and you will think of shabbily dressed, bearded, khaadi wearing, bespectacled, smoking individual. Well, with so much of TV happening around, the over grown beard has given way to trimmed beard, khadis have given way to torn denims, but the glasses and ciggarettes are still there. As if they were the hallmark of intellectualism.
Drop closer and the conversations will never be trivial, it always is a discussion about the seemingly most important issues, almost always about 'the system'. Not that I don't like such conversations. I love them, you can talk about so many things that are wrong with our system without even proposing a solution. I love when people who have never voted criticize the democracy. I adore people who wear brands and then moan about the consumerist attitude, but that's a different story.
Coming back to our journalist and creative friends, as if the whole 'look' is necessary to 'being'. Sometimes it makes me wonder what is more important, to look the part or to play it?
It is not that the sales guys are far behind. We( and I count myself in) dress as if we are about to attend a christian wedding.
The programmers dress in casuals as if each one of them owns a Google! My company's CEO dresses in Black T-shirts and Denims, just like Steve Jobs does.
So we all dress for our part. And we do that really well. I am not sure if play them that well.
May be the stereotypes of movies and media reinforces the image in us. May be, we reinforce the stereotype by behaving that way. But which so ever is true, I feel that we live the image more than living the role.
Enough said, I need to go and fix my tie.

Radom, random-er, random-est

This blog is the result of sheer impatience, I should be doing something worth while, but I am afraid, I don't have much to do.
My ex-roommate (ex not because he is dead or something, just that I have changed the city) used to say, life is a sinusoidal curve. I agree. Just that I want to use a diode and filter that to just the high part of it. But then, no such diode exists.
I work.I get a salary. At least for the Income Tax department, my bank, and for every one else including me that should be enough. But it is not.
I don't have fixed deliverable, and the fact that even if I do not do what I am supposed to; I can get away with it, makes me hate my job. It is not the same every day, some days I love my job, on most days I don't.
I know there is nothing wrong in feeling that. Everybody does. But I am failing to let it not affect other things in my life. I hate the dogs on the streets when I walk back home, curse the Mumbai municipality for the pot holes on the road, abuse the autowalas and the taxiwalas for the jam, and give a look to the kids in their mothers arm that make them wish they were never born.
I know I shouldn't. But I know that I do.
I need that diode desperately, and this desperation isn't helping either. So it is like the quick sand of depression and frustration that the more you struggle, the more you are trapped.

Writing this blog has not helped much either!

Advertising Industry is struggling. And how!

Working for a media company, I know for sure that that the advertisers are trying to squeeze the blood out of the publishers. Publishers, in their attempt to get ahead of the rest, are using every piece of technology they can.

Browsing through the internet, I came across this link using Google Hot Trends, and I must say I was amused to see what I saw.

I know in reality people wish they were dead rather than married, but never thought that technology could compare murder and wedding!
In the image on the left, the ad for wedding comes up when you take your mouse over the underlined words "murder charges". This is a new way of showing ads on the internet using phrases from the content of a web page, and then linking that to an advertisement which is linked to that phrase.
The jury is still out if this style of advertising has its merits or not, but who, in his sane mind would be thinking about linking marriage ads to murder charges?

Sports, Life and Sour Grapes!

So Pakistan did win the T20 World. Not that I am a big fan of this format of the game, but still, it is no mean achievement for a team which has not played competitive cricket for a sustained period, thanks to all the internal conflicts. Congratulations.
Indian radio channels are celebrating Pakistan's victory by mocking Younis Khan's lack of ability to speak good English. I agree, his not so good with the language but boy, he can bat! Remember his batting against Indian Cricket team!

I do not think that it is just Indian phenomena. The fans of Manchester United worldwide have suddenly started to see the negative influence that Christiano Ronaldo was having on the dressing room. I guess now that he is sold to Madrid (although for an amount which I dont consider 'Vulgar'), the ostriches have finally got their heads above the sand. All the fans who so badly wanted to see him stay are now relieved that he is gone.
I am sure similar sentiments would surface about Carlos Tevez as well now that he has confirmed that he won't be staying. "Oh, he is too similar to Rooney!" OR " He ain't worth that money!"
My take: I wanted Ronaldo to stay. He is irreplacable. I don't think tevez leaving is all such a bad thing. That might give chance to young Macheda and Welbeck.

I guess we devalue the thing that we cannot get to ease the pain of not getting it. It is the same with the girls who ignore advances. All of a sudden she is not pretty anymore!
Sour grapes!

Rape, class and India

Shiney Ahuja is accused of raping his maid. Should have been a simple enough headline somewhere on the 4th page of a Mumbai newspaper. It is not. Shiney is a bollywood actor, famous and married.

Well, this is not the first instance of a rich and famous being accused of such an act but what is a first is the media and the public reaction to it.
Part of the reaction is, naturally, condemning the act. It is the other part that I am not so comfortable with.
The audience is baffled by the fact that the victim is the maid. Most of the comments that I see on the various news websites express disbelief and some even go to the extent of suggesting that the entire episode is a stunt by the maid to extract more moeny of her employer, which has gone horribly wrong. A section of people condemn the act not because it is rape, but it is a maid. How can someone rape his maid, someone who is not even good looking, is poor and as some readers say,"stinking"?

So the source of disgust is not the act, but the victim's social status. Is it OK to rape a high society girl? Or one should only try to rape people in their peer group? Why is it that the society thinks that the higher income people have more intergrity? Why is it that we all stood up for Priyardarshini Muttoo and Jessica Lal but cannot find enough courage to speak for the incident that happened in Khairlanji some two and a half years back?
Do we feel hurt more when we can relate to the victim in terms of lifetyle, and aspirations? And if yes, why?
Shouldn't the crime be judged on the act alone?

Amidst all this, Times of India published the findings of a the medical examination report, which will put to shame the porn magazine writers with the details and the decriptions. They did nothing of the sort with so many other such incidents.
The girl was perhaps raped within the closed walls of an apartment. The jury is still out on that one.

Times of India raped her publicly on the pages of a newspaper that is circulated widely.
Add to it the plethora of jokes doing rounds on Shiney Ahuja's episode. We have made a mockery of an incident that should have been unanimously condemned.

My India, what have you become?

Mumbai and Me

Mumbai is a humbling city. No matter how much money you make, there is always someone making more than that. And its not just about money. The typical middle class dream of owning a house is a luxury here!
No matter when you reach this place, you would feel that you missed the bus by atleast 3 years.
How come the magical number of 3? The property prices double every 3 years, so the flat that you could have bought in your today's salary 3 years ago is already beyond your budget. By the time you make and save enough, the locality of your affordable house will move 5 further from your place of work (away from Mumbai, not towards it). So you have to chose cheaper house,or longer commutation time daily. And trust me, the prices will decide for the latter.

So every day when you hang on to the dear handle in the local train, you curse for being a good 3 years late!

Its like you are always chasing something here, no wonder the city never stops. Its like running on a treadmill which is moving faster than you can. You huff and puff, but you don't progress. This place sucks the life out of people, and leave them walking zombies, dazed with dreams that were never fulfilled.

It is a thought that scares the hell out of me. Everyday I back myself to survive this place, every night I convince myself that I did.

Transformation begins...

Just two months back I was a student in a B-School. We have a tradition of yearbook where my friends wrote testimonials for me. I have not been very wise in choosing the right words to express myself when I talk to people. My friends joked that I had the subtlety of a sledge hammer. They said I needed to be more politically correct in expressing myself.

Now that I am working on an assignment where I will be facing clients, clients who, by the nature of the business I am dealing with, would be eccentric and egoist! My boss says that I am the right person to do the job coz he thinks 'I am a nice, diplomatic kid".

I am sure my friends will laugh out loud when they hear it. I don't know why but I take that as a compliment.
The game is on.

Qualifications and Politics

Bhartiya Janta Party took on board IIM Calcutta graduates to 'manage' their campaign.
The result is that they had a loss of 22 seats.

Just reinforces my belief that qualification has no role in Indian Politics.

Its been a long time...

It has been really long since I have posted anything here. Going by some of the comments, I have been missed by some. Thanks for that.

There has been a lot that has happened in my life over the last four months but although it is important for me, (the new job, moving to Mumbai, earning again) there is not much masala there. I work with a Dotcom firm now that is known for the interesting comments on its message boards. I have seen some of them on my blog too, and that is something that I am not happy about.

It is a free world, we all have opinions. What is important is how we express them. I was a 20-21 year old not so long ago in my life, and have seen some of them on MTV Roadies. I always believed that the Roadies culture was a one off thing. I have never seen such obscenities mouthed in real life and I certainly do not endorse them.

One must understand that certain things is this world are contextual. An American will not understand Gajodhar Bhaiya jokes. Someone who has lived in condos all his life would not be able to see the challenges people living in a house made of thatched roofs face during the monsoon. There is a wide spectrum of experiences that people have, and nobody can feel all of them.

We all must learn to respect when we do not agree or understand.

A comment by a gentleman/lady by the name of Readoholic and its reply by anonymous is what I am talking about.

To Readoholic: You do not have the judgment of what to read and what not, then it is not my fault. I am sure you would not dare to say such things when you meet people face to face, else you might have your face rearranged. But Internet gives people like you a place to hide. Good for you, bad for us!
To Anonymous: Thanks for defending me. One's dignity must always be maintained! My father taught me not to bite a dog when he bites you, and I think you can use the same advice.

May be, we all need to learn a bit of netiquettes.

An extraordinary love story!

These are bad times, in every possible way. Economy, politics, jobs, even the Gaza strip, there are things the way they should not be.

I am sure there are tales of doom to be told, but I will try not to add to the general sinking feeling that is around and will tell you a story. A story which happened around me, a story that I think would leave a smile on your face, and if it doesn’t, then you have been tracking the financial world a bit too much. Leave the pink paper down and read Calvin and Hobbes for a change!

I was standing at the Chatlet Le Halles metro station in Paris, waiting for the M4. I was annoyed about the fact that time between two metros at around mid night is 8 minutes instead of the 3 minutes during the day. My education has taught me that it minimizes cost and optimizes performance but when you are waiting on a cold night at a station, you don’t really care much about economic sense.

It was not really crowded and I was waiting for the train. My attention was caught by a man who was signaling something to a woman on the opposite platform. He threw a kiss at her and she blushed. Buoyed by the fact that there were not too many passengers around, she responded.  The man went down on his knees as if proposing. She extended her hand as nodded as if she agreed. They were both smiling and throwing kisses. I said to myself, Paris is indeed a romantic city.

I was smiling as I looked on, but the drama was cut short as her train arrived. The woman got into the train and leapt for a window seat. She was still smiling and throwing kisses. The man waved his hand and she reciprocated. They kept waving to each other till the train disappeared. The man stood on the platform waving his hand.

My train arrived and I got in. I left for my apartment wishing all the happiness in the world for the couple. I wished them good health too, so that their love lives long. I guess they needed it.

And yes, the man was over 65 and the woman was atleast 60 years old.