Word Cache

The Internet is just a world passing around notes in a classroom –
Jon Stewart

Questions are the answers !

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Children and their abilities to question are legendary. Coming from a clean slate, an inherent curiosity to know more and just be present in the moment.

Amongst the kids of friends and family, many questions abound. And some stay with me. More in that moment as their parents struggled for answers. Here are a few recollections.

  • ‘Why do you have to stand straight ? Can you just crawl around ?’


  • ‘Who invented walking ?’

  • ‘Papa, why don’t you wear a blue cloth on your head like that man ? ( Pointing to Manmohan Singh)’

  • Upon seeing a Korean Air plane, which is blue in colour : ” That is the only plane that flies in the sky”.

  • Papa, do you really work when you go to office or sleep like you do on Sundays ?

  • Mamma, ( looking at slum children ) can i play with them ? Why not ?

  • Uncle, are you the one from office, that my dad complains to my mom about daily ?

  • ( After watching Animal planet ) Animals are wonderful. So much better than my school teacher. Isnt it ma ?

  • If the rose can be red in colour, and it so good, why cant everything be red in colour ?

  • If i will be big one day, there will be somebody small also ? I need to teach somebody like you are teaching me.

  • After watching Discovery Channel : “If all people are the same, why do we have to fight ?”

  • Watching a news telecast : ‘These people have no other work’

  • Upon being asked what his name was : ‘You are the 10th person asking my name today. Please ask that uncle in that green T-shirt’.

  • Mamma, if God invented the world, he invented ice-cream also ? Are you sure, God invented vegetables also ?

Children and their questions / statements have always promised a hope for the future. That things indeed will be different. And to date, that’s a promise that never fades. At least as long as us adults don’t interfere ! That is !

Here’s to a great year of education ! And the next time he or she, comes up with a question, no matter how silly, no matter how odd. Perhaps its important to note that many answers to his or her future stays pregnant in the questions themselves !

And of course, one last question asked by a certain R. The mother had no answer. Can somebody help her.

“Why do girls sit and do ‘su-su’ and boys have to stand and do ‘su-su’ ?” [ ‘Su-su’, is accepted child / adult speak for pee ]


This post concludes the three post series on the kids world of today

Towards a wired future.

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Theres this letter you might want to read here.
The times have changed. Haven’t they. In a big way. With Blue-ray technology. Internet & its many applications. DVD drives. PlayStation III ! Ofcourse, things have changed.

And of course, children of today will rise above all the plans the adults of today have for them. That’s my hope. And wish.

Sample this.


An advertisement calling in for students ( in the age group of 5-6 years). Apparently, they are starting a ‘new batches’ ! To teach kids read and spell words using phonetics.

And of course, parents have to be worried if their kid cant spell ‘Dictionary’ at the age of 5. Or 6 for that matter. Of course. And spelling that right, will make a ‘a winner in life’.

And of course,there are exams that measure. And measures that examine. Tuition centers that coach. And coaching classes that tutor. TV programs on stars and the world. And the world full of stars of other kinds.

I think, We are indeed on the right path. Of course. Lets hear it. For all of us. Educators. Policy makers. Kids. Parents. And everybody else in this chain. Yay.

As we hurtle fast towards success in a super connected world. With Orkut facebook, digital technology, faster education, blogs, spell checks (btw), Educational programming and the like….

..am i the only one, wondering if our education system makes us meander towards a wired future . With short circuited souls ?

( This is Part – II of a three part series on the Kids World of today )

The Same Wall in K World !

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Post – 1 of a three post series on the K World !


Theres this wall. Everyday on the way to work. On the way to work. Currently it echoes a lonely halo in the mornings. For schools are closed and children are away on holiday.

In some time though, schools would reopen. Overflowing satchel and sprightly uniforms will dot the roads. As much as school buses and parents at a bus stop. Tiny hands scratching the air while in animated conversation about an ‘important’ topic is clear. Of a butterflies. Bees. Cricket. actors. Etc Etc. And of course, mothers there have their own.

It is indeed some sight. To watch the contrast. The children without a care and worry. The moving butterfly, the kite that broke free and the odd ‘secret’ visibly keeping them busy. Them mothers, i don’t know. Their subject of discussion remains distant to me.

Coming back to the wall.

The children, they sit on the wall. They are rather, propped on the wall. By ageing grandparents and caring mothers. An escape from having to stand and wait for the school bus. And sitting on the high perch, on the high wall, they converse.

The 10 seconds it takes for me to drive past them, are enough to spot the happiness in them. Animated. Energetic. And that 10 seconds is usually http://premier-pharmacy.com/product-category/blood-pressure enough for me figure the energy expended in keeping them up there. At one place that is.

And in the evening, when i drive back, by the same wall, exactly where the children sat, there are the others that sit on the same wall. Men. Propped by themselves.

Young men. Old men. Middle aged men. All sit and have conversation. Some read the newspapers. Others discuss. Perhaps they too are waiting for their bus to arrive..

For a while now, i haven’t been seeing the children. When the schools reopen, there is going to be chatter and banter. And it is such a sight to behold. Everyday morning.

And i wonder, how it would be to be that wall. To be privy to all what the children speak. Their dreams. Their worlds. I wonder. And then, i think of the company the wall keeps in the evening. I shake my head. And say, ‘time flies’.

The wall will come to bounce with morning energy again. Soon.

Here’s to a great school season. May it rekindle in children the joys of living, the spirit of curiosity, inclusive thinking and a mindset that will make our futures better.

And may they tear down all walls. Save this wall.

This is the first of a three part ‘Kids World’ series on the modern day world of a child

Such are not made often.

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Through the meandering journey of life, there are are many that we meet. Some are acquaintances. Others pass by. Yet others pass through. And you realise how true this quote about life being a stage and the many actors who jump in and out is..

And of course, some stay. And out of the some that stay, a few touch you. A few others make you laugh. A few others make you think. And of those that make you think, there’s this handful that make you stretch and discover your horizons.

Well, this post is about one such man who did a bit of everything.

Who just stood tall by being himself. Who towered by discovering and getting people grow taller. Who continued standing for whats right, and instilling a sense of right and wrong in the people around him.

A man whose passion for industrial relations knew no bounds. A man for whom development of people was an inherent program which treated this English word spelt ‘b-o-u-n-d-a-r-y’ as unrecognisable code.

A man, who never lost the child in him. A man who has kept at lifelong learning. A man who took to blogging and tweeting rather late in life. But has gone the mile in these journeys.

A man who has touched many lives. Across many strata of society. In his own quiet way.

A man who is busy reinventing himself as i write this. Plotting a new career. And pushing his own limits ‘to pursue things that he always wanted to’

Just as he retires, today, from the organisation that he served for 33 odd years. A man who celebrates his birthday today.

And as he moves into the sunrise of a new life, he carries with him the good wishes & sincere thank yous, of the many that walked the journey along with him.

And of course, carries with him, his own way of doing things !

And as one part of his moves on, the other remains. In the people that he walked with. Who he changed. Forever.

Here’s wishing him a great birthday and a fabulous fulfilling time ahead.


His blog is here…

3 boys and many potholes

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7.40 AM. Mumbai

Three boys. All seemingly of different age groups stare at me through the windshield. In between their animated chatter. Two of them in football costume.

The goods van in which they travel hits a pot hole. And another. In a short while my tyres hit the same potholes. I wince. And then let out a yelp as the spine feels the shock offered by the pothole.

I look ahead at the boys. They don’t seem to bother. With all of steel flooring of a good vehicle for a seat, and a metal ledge as a support to hang legs…well.. can be pretty painful. Especially, given the size and strategic battlefield like location of these potholes.

I look at the boys ahead. They seem to be discussing something of importance. I cant fathom what. More importantly, i cant fathom how such potholes dont evoke a flicker of the eyelid!

They smile. They chatter. The one boy that sits on the ledge holds a string that hangs from the roof. Occasionally. Almost by reflex. That’s the only sign that the goods carrier didn’t have superior shock absorbers.

And as each pothole approaches, my heart skips a beat. Most for them. Part for me. The goods carrier hits the pothole. They don’t flinch. And when it comes to my turn, it hurts.

Is it age? Is it youthful exuberance? Is it the joy of company? Is it passion ? Is it football ? Is it joy? Is it holiday season?. Hypotheses galore !

I wonder how it would be to preserve this spirit for a lifetime. To face life’s potholes. And they go their way. In some time i stop. But seems that i have taken them along with me. That moment. The car. The joy of living in the moment.

I don’t know if they made it as ‘winners’ or ‘losers’ in their football game. But they sure did make my day.

Its Finally Over !

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Small huddles of people stand on the pavement. Peering into phone stores. Restaurants. Offices. Pubs. Et el. At the same time. At pre-appointed hours.

Peering into a restaurant having glass for walls, can be unsettling. Especially for those that eat inside! But they dont seem to care ! And the crowd outside only swells. A foreign eye can mistake this for anything. Including a food deprived nation that gratiates itself by looking at others eat.

The answer however, lies in the TV that’s on. In a corner of the restaurant , phone store et al. No. Wrong again. The interest is not in the TV but on the cricket match that’s on ! The Indian Premier League is on.

And animated conversation floats in the air. Will Chennai beat Kolkatta? Will Bangalore overrun Hyderabad? Will Mumbai win ? How can he sip beer in the middle of a match ? It is all rigged. Dont you thinks so…etc !

Answers and perspectives on this, will of course bring a paradigm shift to our lives and makes such a big difference to our daily living. But, this is cricket ! And as some cliched pundit astutely puts it…this is religion. OK?

A religion.

Where the same chap, is riled or feted for the same shot he played. Depending on whether the team won or lost.

Where funny coloured costumes, strange team names, wonderful astute commentary from the likes of a certain Ms.Bedi are centre stage

where an 4 year old acquaintance commented on a match, ‘ i haven’t seen this kind of a match in my entire lifetime’. And yes. All of a four year life time.

Where the dance of the cheer leaders is only matched by the beer belly of a certain Mr. Mallya,

where ‘square leg‘ has got nothing to do with anatomy or geometrical shapes. And ‘third man’ does not point to political machinations of cabinet formation.

Where the requirements of winning the cup ( with the history of the two tournaments thus far) are restricted to having an Australian captain pulled out from retirement and the team labeled ‘underdog’!

where the sulk of a certain Mr. Khan is best matched by bringing of the blog world more fame

huh !

What a waste of time. Thankfully, its over. The finals. As they say. And this circus top will fold up. And there are talks of one more season coming your way soon. Thankfully its all coming to an end.

And those soap operas on TV can resume again. Tomorrow strange family issues that would resurface. Stuff that was talked about just before the opening ceremony… And from tomorrow onwards, when the boss asks how was last night, remember he is talking about the meeting and not the match.

Our lives return to ‘normal’ status from tomorrow. Thank God this is all getting over. What madness. Huh.

By the way, did you see how Mathew Hayden batted ! Phew it was worth the Orange cap with a strike rate of 144. And i guess the purple cap will stay with RP. Singh. And if Chennai with +0.94 run rate are any way a better team. And man this Manish Pandey has been a discovery…

Any idea if the dates for the next series has been decided ? Just asking..

Parking Full !

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One of the woes of driving in a big city like Mumbai is not necessarily in the driving. But in the parking. The good deeds that you did in the past three lives put together, determines the availability of a good parking spot today !

At least that’s the hypotheses that i am getting myself to accept. For i have consistently found that good ones don’t exist and the rest are taken. That’s been the experience. Every single time that the the tyre has rolled to get somewhere, it has rolled an equal distance to find a place to stop. Much after reaching the place!

And after an hour of driving, the struggle to park can be downright trying. Praying for mercy from gleeful parking attendants and merciless co-drivers. ( Who can seem to know how to park a Merc in a space where you don’t think a Maruti 1050 will fit ).

Just as you are all set to park, your eye spots some message written somewhere. Some messages of them are downright simple. ‘No Parking’ they scream. Others are more positive. “Parking Full” they say.

(‘Parking Full’ means the same thing : ‘tough-luck-go-around-find-another-place’ )!

And then there are those that overdo it. Like this one.


Which says, ‘No No Parking’ ! Now, What does that one mean ?

For starters, Parking is a strict No-No is a meaning it can take !

And it could also mean ‘No’; to ‘No-Parking’. Double negative. Meaning you could park here. So go ahead. And try teaching double negative word play to the Mumbai parking lot attendant. May the forces be with you.

And then there are those that seem to symbolically convey this


Methinks a ‘No Parking’ board on a chair with no seat to park your back side….is a powerful symbolic message.

Huh. Thats one post full on parking full !

Pointless Post.

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Teaching English to school children was never my idea of an fantasy job. But you know, i like the language. And playing like a school bunking kid at play, for whom bunking is first nature, the mind slips into play.

Strange ideas and thoughts cross my mind. Especially when i drive. For instance there is this store called ‘Krishna stores’ that i pass by everyday.

My mind jumps about thinking about ‘store’ as a verb. What could Krishna store !?! Perhaps it is the name of the proprietor of the store. And perhaps nothing sells here. And all he does is store. And so on.

So much for the neighbourhood Krishna Stores !


This was clicked in Bangalore a few months back. ‘ Andhra Style Family Restaurant !’ And immediately, the mind started its pointless mastication of those four words ! And in a few minutes, a chuckle escaped my lips. A solitary chuckle. For the meaning had mutated in my mind.

My mind only. ( The rest of them in the car were sane normal folks )

1. ANDHRA style family restaurant : The style (of whatever) is Andhra

2. Andhra STYLE family restaurant : Well, perhaps a restaurant that entertained only stylish families ! With Chiranjeevi style dialogue delivery and a swish swash back ground music on entry !

3. Andhra style FAMILY restaurant : The onus is on the family. So perhaps they would give you a ETV soap opera on the TV !

4. Andhra style family RESTAURANT : Where it may look like a shady bar, but it is firmly a restaurant.

And so on. And as the meaningless meandering mastication progressed, my brother nudged me to check if i knew what the store next door called CFC was all about.

CFC ! Chlorofluro Carbon…was the first thought before i read what was on the board. Ofcourse it was Chicago Fried Chicken ! If Kentucky arrived here first, can Chicago be far behind ?

The meaningless mutatory mastication in search of more meanings continued for some time.

And it usually raises its head when the mind is drained, the body tired and a pressing omni present to-do list asserts its omni prescence.

Like now.

Clean Sweep

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Once upon a time, there lived a man. Who was very successful in navigation and commerce. But was deceitful and killed travelers and guests. And such else.

The great Gods in punishment made him roll a boulder up a hill. But the boulder would always roll down before he could reach the top of the hill. And he had to start all over again.

This chap called Sisyphus and Sisyphean tasks need no introduction. We live our work lives don’t we ? Sisyphean…is this work of sweeping our streets. Here are pictures clicked at very different places.


The lady was in Mahabaleshwar. There she was. Poignant. Persistent. And attentive. To the last speck of garbage on road. She collected all of it and kept it in a small basket. And walked away. Ofcourse, she didnt bother about the dog that cames along and sniffed the basket. And whatever it did from there on.


Cut to scene 2:


Mumbai. Closer home.

The man sweeps mud and dust off the road. There is a whole lot which flies off and settles on other side of the road. And perhaps when he sweeps from that side, will fly and settle on this side. He gathers whatever he gathers and tosses it into a big container in the tractor behind him. A whole lot of dust drifts aimlessly. Settling wherever it can.

Cut.



Scene 3:

Madurai.

A man with a fluorescent jacket is at work. With a shoe on leg. Collecting a heap of mud to to create another heap. In some time, an ants version of Mt. Everest forms ! He moves on.

A bus passes by. The gust from the passing bus, reduces Mt.Everest to a hillock. He doesn’t care. He is creating another Mt.Everest. Many more. Everyday.


Scene 4:

As i am typing this, there is a set of people on TV. Debating election results. And what it means for the country. Loud men & women they are. With some numbers and fancy graphs in the background. They make intelligent sounding points. They definitely seem to have sound.

I hear them talking of ‘Clean sweep in Bihar’ ‘Clean sweep in ….’ ! Occassionally, they are mumbling something about some ‘fundamental change’ that needs to be ushered in. That makes me wonder if they are replaying the last election’s analysis.

But with that ‘fundamental change’ point : I am all excited. We need to bring in fundamental change.

Ofcourse, I am talking of sweeping here!

Common Mango !

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Its the season for Mangoes ! And the lovely sweet Alphonso variety is doing the rounds. And of course, the one who can stop at just eating one, is inhuman, supernatural or plain stupid. It depends on which side you look at it from !!

Pooris and Aam Ras are the seasons favourite in many restaurants like this one


And as usual, whats in season is in season. Like here. And so, she makes a dish which is called ‘Aam Ras’. ‘Aam = Mango. Ras = Juice’ she painstakingly explains. He tilts his head and tries to remember. This hindi word ‘Aam’ seems to be familiar.

This ‘Aam Ras’ puts him in a rush. He dips into the luxurious ‘Mango pulp – mixed with milk – served chilled’ (And so he thinks. And that’s the closest this blog has ever got to a recipe). And says, ‘Its addictive’. And means every intonation. Very much so.

And mangoes, this season seem to be everywhere. Or so it seems to him. Newspaper reports are much to the contrary. Some mangoes are pricey. Some cheap. But all, worth a little haranguing and a bargain.

And as he ploughs into one more scoop, there is a flash of recollection. With a flash of the Hindi education that’s in progress, he asks her.. ” ‘Aam’ also means ‘common’ right ? ”

She arches her eyebrows. Sensing that the devils company is set to show some results. ‘Aam Aadmi’ as in the political campaign means “Common Man”, right ?’ She nods her head. Half in disinterest. Half in irritation.

And then, the words escape his lips. “Or is it possible, that they really want to call the commoner a proper ‘Mango’ ?!? ” She face palms. ‘Incorrigible’. She says. And asks him if he wants some more. The head nods vigorously. ‘Upon one condition’. She says.

The second helping is had.

In total silence.