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On The Tree : Of Pesty Definitions !

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Pests ! They are everywhere. Aren’t they ? All the time ! It was many years back that i read the Pied Piper of Hamlin. I was young boy given to grandiose dreams and grander imagination. In my mind rodents that would infest houses to the point of destruction, had a multi dimensional image & excitement.

‘Those sick, rotten creatures’ (said with all discomforting movements to the face that my English teacher could conjure ) that would wreck destruction on any and everything that would come their way in that town of Hamlin that jumped out of the English course book !

And of course, i was totally in awe of the Pied Piper !! And if you think i had grand dreams of leading reams of rats into the river, well….

Many years later, i was at a Naval camp aboard a warship. Reprimands were a way of life. And for a rather innocuous mistake ( no, i am not in a tell-all mood) , as a prompt and a simple reprimand got a, ‘Now, don’t be *#@#*@# pest’ from an officer, who shouted as though the sun rising the next morning depended on his clarion call abuse !

At that very moment, an image of a creature on many legs, tails, whiskers and all, scurrying around, with my face morphed there made its way to my mind. One of life’s vivaciously poignant moments ! I have moved on from that moment and that warship.

On another note, every time i have bought pesticide, there has been obvious thoughts of different kinds of pesticides that would be required to tackle the much versatile pests of today. That leads me to another existential question.

How do you define a pest !?!

Offhand, i think of these characteristics. A pest has got to be small. Pesky. Usually, pests causing pain / frustration / loss. They are generally difficult to eliminate, because of extended http://premier-pharmacy.com/product-category/adhd/ mobility, law of large numbers, small sizes, problems in identification / singling out / differentiation and of course, an intense immune syst em that develops capabilities against every pesticide that comes out of an inventive mind. And let me not talk of procreating capabilities !

Now, that’s too generic a definition. That’s applicable to rodents and mosquitoes for sure. Of course. But lets put this definition to test over others.

Say a talib terrorist. Small. Pesky. Mobile. Large numbers in numerous caves. Attack in small numbers. Would be difficult to tell one from another, with the beard, turban and AK 47. Has fought the combined armies of the world very well. And their number seems to be growing.

Voila !

OK. Now another test. Does a chairman of a company who embezzles his own company fit here. Lets expand this. Do CEOs and other white collar criminals fit this definition of Pest ?

They are small in the mind. But they are numerous and spread across organisations. Operating from cubicles and cabins. And quite obviously, one doesn’t get to see too many of them at one go. And of course, with the Armani pin stripe and lacquered floor its going to be difficult to identify one. And as we are seeing here, they almost, always get away ! Voila. It seems to work here as well..

That definition would fit to vast majorities of politicians, sportsmen, salesmen, recruiters, drivers …whoo boy. And i think it fits people like me as well, if you ask certain people whose names i withhold for security reasons.

It really depends on who you ask. Heck. I think what the world needs SOME pesticide! Day and Night !! And perhaps a new definition as well !

This post is the 2nd in the three part ‘On the Tree’ series of posts. Posts that draw inspiration from human work on a simple tree !

To Come Back !

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To continue imagining. To move. To be moved. To continue. To accept a hand in support. To support. To write. To learn. To listen. To move. To pray. To look. To soak up each moment. To laugh. To cry. To reach out. To hope. To renounce. To accept. To come back.

To stay renewed. To run. To Walk. To pause. To feel new wind. To absorb a new thought. To see new people. And their thoughts. To continue seeing ‘old’ people. And their thoughts in old and new light. To stay confident. To take on new responsibilities. To take on. To stay true to old values. To roll on. To come back.

To drive. To stay driven. To fix flats tyres. To wipe tears. To work out. To sweat out. To rediscover. To push. Yourself and others. To see a new day. To stay optimistic. To weather out old storms. To discover weak links and broader shoulders. To see discover new friends who stand by. To see new hope. To come back.

To reach out to elders. To read the lines. And between them too. To develop. To stay rooted. To reach for the stars. To discard. To pass out. To see the silver lining. To wince. To smile. To jump. To slouch. To click. To tweet. To look back. To create. To destroy. To exercise choice. To return. To stay renewed. To infuse new energy. To come back.

So much to say, that i am back.

Regular posts commence shortly. To all the voices of support, be it through inquiry, gentle nudges, screaming & massaged messages, a big thank you ! The world is still a beautiful place with beautiful people. Will catch up !

It feels nice. To think that tomorrow is going to be better. Of that there is no doubt. But it sure does feel good. To come back !

On the Tree. Back-To-Front !

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The head matters. I mean, whats ‘on’ the head. There indeed was a time that i recall in my head, when ‘whats Inside’ mattered much. But ever since, Intel took on that onerous responsibility with the ‘Intel Inside‘ campaign, i guess, (sic) lesser mortals have graduated to being more concerned with whats on the surface !

That is a huge obsession and cause for worry. I believe, and strongly so, that there would be more hair loss due to worry. Worry about, you guessed it right : Hair loss !

Some weeks back, a friend of mine** informed that there are more ‘options’ available for people with a hairless crown. Upon some prodding, and on the strictest conditions of anonymity that would put the British stiff upper lip to shame, many types were mentioned.

Laser treatment. Hair Transplant. Shampoos. Conditioners. A phalanx of tablets. Diet. And so on. ‘A combination of all of these in some proportion would do good’. The friend claimed. In all earnestness.

Two days later, this image arrived via email titled ‘Norwood Scale‘ ! Strategically marked to the missus as well. I understood this friends good intention. But i suppose this friend didn’t understand that missus has written me off as a whole. Just having some saving grace with hair on top of the head will serve no purpose. Yes. Serves-No-Purpose !

My friends journey continues. In the coming days, numerous steps of innumerable clinics will be climbed. Hair treatment specialists will be consulted and good advice listened to. And of course, this friend will end up with a lighter wallet and a heavier bag of oils, ointments, herbal prescriptions and hope !

The last heard, was some vague mention of ‘hair transplant’ on a slightly more serious tone, loaded with positive intent. ‘Hair from the back of the head, gets to the front’ i am told ! I cant understand these back-to-front jobs ! I really cant !

Look, the world is in a recession. Sales figures are dropping off the bottom most point of charts on a wall. People are losing jobs like a well made sweet sinking into a sweet tooth’s tongue. Bank deposits are evaporating like a distantly striking mirage. Heck, banks are going that route too…Governments are falling off…

And here was worry about falling hair !

But wait a minute.

All of the above is about falling, right ?!? Economies, banks, deposits, sales figures, lifestyle, malls…. and hair…then, maybe we could do what those hair surgeons.

And perhaps bring whats on the back, to the front ! Maybe, that’s the prescription we need ! Hmm..

This post is the first in a three part series titled ‘On The Tree’. Drawing inspiration from spotted on trees !

** Posting with approval from this friend !

Just a Jai Ho !

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On Western Express Highway. Mumbai. 26th Jan ’09

Slumdog Millionaire, is a well made movie. And i quite liked it. Its about India. Its about the real us. Our dreams. Our past. Our present. And about possibilities that connections in the mind can bring. There are other movies that have left a far greater impact on me, but of course, this is the one that got nominated for the Oscars. So ! Jai Ho !

On another note, a pendulum was always an object of intrigue. For it swung from one end to another. With such an alarming regularity. And yes, the only intermittent sound was from the alarm ! So have been the last few days for me. As i swung from one end to the other. With only the odd beep from the watch indicating time. Jai Ho !

We watched Slumdog Millionaire. Then a long standing dream went still. Almost coinciding with my birthday ! And then, there was Republic day. I have a thousand images to show. And a thousand more stories to tell. Some other day ! And so, I live to fight another day !

With a prayer on the lip for broader shoulders, and a stronger heart to stand up and engage what life throws at me, the resolve to stand, stands ! And of course, the belief that tomorrow will be much better, courses the veins much more fiercely ! Jai Ho !

My birthday came and went. Friends and the missus conspired to get me a few gifts. A Casio G Shock http://healthsavy.com/product/xanax/ watch and Ray Ban sunglasses ! A G-Shock watch is supposed to withstand shocks and Ray Ban sunglasses is supposed to shield the eyes from harmful rays of the sun. Such is the marketing !!

But, fresh from Slumdog Millionaire, i am busy making connections. And this seems to be a connection i cant miss ! Jai Ho !

I ran to Gibran for comfort, as i do so very often. And read Joy and Sorrow !

“When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.” But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed”

This man has a way with his words. And has some kind of a broad band connection to my heart and soul. I smiled after a long while and went about other things. Like seeing a Republic day celebration ! Jai Ho !

Work related travel and my own mind, will keep me away for a few days. But of this, be assured.. I will be right back.

Until then…

Jai Ho !

Paper Power !!

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As a society, we are master innovators. And we can teach a thing or two to the world about recycling. Newspapers used as a a duster, impromptu seat cover, bed sheet etc is common place.

This gent has the newspaper folded in to his back pocket. Please desist from interpreting it as some kind of symbolic placement making a statement on the quality of current day journalism : By placing it in the rear !

No. No. Our newspapers kick ass.

Really ! Just try reading one. Any one !

This gent is all set to unfold his newspaper as soon as he gets to a bus station, lay it out on dusty seat in the bus shelter and sit down. And because his rear isn’t going to take a whole lot of paper, he can exercise choice to continue reading other sections of the newspaper which are not obscured by his rear.

Like global parliamentary proceedings. And going by what transpires in the parliaments of the world, increase his ‘general’ vocabulary and better understand techniques of martial arts!

Actually, the list around innovations with newspapers is endless. I invite you, dear reader, to share your experiences as well !! Well, tissue paper shortages are well chronicled. So lets not go there.

Kavi’s Musings had commissioned a research on ‘top of the mind supplementary use of the newspapers’. This was an in-person impromptu research conducted on very heavy recyclers. And here are the results.

Top areas of newspaper recycle are :

a. ‘Garbage Collection tray’ lining

b. Wrapping of take aways in restaurants & making of paper plates

c. Making a statement to the neighbours on recycling ( Goes well with a Greenpeace T-shirt)

d. Making a statement to the neighbours & colleagues ( Carrying Business newspapers in your hand. And bringing them back home. Without reading)

f. Floor mat on trains when you travel long distance without a confirmed ticket

g. To be put to use on / by children for a multiple set of uses. ( Art from Waste,Sketching, Erasing, Tearing up to kill boredom etc )

h. To be used as a fly swatter on flies & other pests. Used for the same purpose on irritating, irresponsible, ‘Humvee’ riding husbands !

The survey respondents were told that the results to this survey was to be kept completely confidential. Any resemblance to any person, real, digital, living or dead is purely, well, almost co-incidental !

So, go ahead. Please feel free to share. What else can people do with their newspaper !?!

Fire in the well !

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There was this professor in college. He taught us Operations Research. A small man who used to correct papers with that big scrawl that i always thought was an attempt to cover his ‘ineptitude’. I am sure he has more charitable words of recognition for me. And of course, i dreaded his class.
One day, just he was distributing the question paper of an internal test, i was girding my loins. I mean, i had prepared. Real hard. And was awaiting the paper. Just as he was all set to distribute the question papers, he tipped a jar of water over the question paper stack. Quickly retrieving the papers with a flourish, he proceeded to distribute a wet set of papers to the class.

“So there, a watered down version !” , he said.

I flunked that exam. And to this day, think, there was something in the water.

Yes. Water. I love water. I treasure water. Every other living summer there has been an impending water scarcity. Or real time scarcity. And then, somehow, the other seasons clamoured to desist from giving the summer a bad name. And it became an all season thing.

We are just far too many people and too less water. And the too many people, haven’t been thinking about the far too less water for a far too long time ! Well, the water scarcity has reached the Mumbai shoreline as well. And boy, you have to pay for water these days !

The numerous water tankers (driven by those ordinary men with delusory thoughts that their wheel drives a Mclaren Mercedes and the Mumbai road is a Formula one race track) are proof enough !


And that they do ‘day and night’ service is double proof. Altough, i must confess that ‘self water supplier’ unnerved me a little. I went around checking what this ‘self water supplier’ meant, just in case. The answers varied, but did not come close to my fears. So.

And these impeccable ordinary men and their ‘self water supplier’ tagline, amongst other things, got me started. I resolved that i would speak to as many people in the neibhourhood and educate them about the need to conserve water. With that firm resolve, i stepped outside.

There. Right there. Was this kid who was emptying his water bottle in the alleyway. My antennae screamed, ‘opportunity’. So, i thought i’d get my practice going. After being nice to him I told him about the need to conserve water, and thought that the ‘fear of hunger’ would get him thinking.

So with a hushed voice i told him, ‘we may not have enough water. Even for food. Your mom cant cook food and you’ve got to go hungry”, i said. And mentally pumped my fist like Boris Becker after executing a neat unplayable backhand cross court volley !

And then, to my dismay i saw the boys eyes brighten. I knew there was something wrong. He just said, “Really?!?. Yay Yay Yay…If Mamma cant cook food then, we can all have Pani Puri. They use only mineral water’

My investigations lead me here.


My Water Conservation agenda has since been bristling. Battered down. But not watered down. Yet.

And by the way, that Pani Puri left me stirred. And shaken too. The agenda survives. For there is a fire in the well !

Concrete Hope !

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On a city jaunt, once, i spotted this small flat, in a middle class neighbourhood. And there was an impeccable image. Of an open window. A few clothes that were seeking to shed their water weight by seeking the sun.

Plastic cans which perhaps held something else before, holding the soil. The soil holding firm for the roots to take shape. And the roots supplying all what the leaves required to stretch and seek the world.

The makeshift window sill was thin, and obviously not designed for these. And the window pane in their shadowy soot, had a far worse tale to tell. A foot away, was an old drainage pipe. And the wall was bore tell tale signs of seepage. Or perhaps, it was leakage.

It could have been an ordinary sight in a strange neighbourhood. But for some reason, my legs refused to move. And the eyes refrained from the odd blink. The cars honks around me grew fainter.

All i saw was the leaf deftly dance to a wisp of a breeze and that lonely red bud, tease the wind. In some time, i realised i was deaf to the honk and blind to the seepage.

I dont know for how long i stood there. But long enough for friends who were with me to nudge me to check if i was expecting someone to step out and wave. Perhaps climb down the drainage pipe and run to me. Like the types they show in Bollywood movies.

But there i was. A stranger. A stranger to that window and to that green. But in that strange distance, the appalling exterior melted away and all i saw was a coat of hope, beauty and possibility.

Those green leaves, the deft move of a stem responding to the faintest of breeze, those washed clothes that were drying, the promise of the lonely bud and the thought of those simple folks who nurtured this all, brought an incredible amount of peace to me.

And that’s exactly how i feel about Obama’s inauguration tomorrow. Sitting many thousand miles away, i feel better for the world. Don’t ask me why. Call me a wishful thinker. Dub me whatever. I still feel so. I hope so. I wish so.

In the midst of seeping concrete, i found hope the other day.

Just as i will. Tomorrow.

A humvee ride !

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Here i am. At what they call a ‘hyper market’. I like this place. * And no, this post is not sponsored. I like this place because it is here they give me this big, sturdy shopping cart. A cart that i can push around.

Now, pushing around isn’t something that comes naturally to me. But, it is some fantasy that i have, that i will be able to push people around at home, as well. And this shopping cart is as close i have get to. So, you see, i look forward to the trip to this place.

This cart is ‘beefy’. That’s an adjective, i am told of recent origin, to describe a muscular object. So, John Abraham in Dostana is said to appear ‘beefy’. Coming back to this cart, there are other things that i like.

The combination and mix is neat. There is just about enough steel, and there is a muscular plastic. With some real sturdy wheels. Wheels that carry consumerist India’s weight for the well heeled. Or perhaps, the well wheeled !

And then there is this smooth flow of the cart on the tiled floor. Just as you push your choices around ! The noise, the smooth screech when you deftly navigate the stacks of brands is so invigorating !

But the ‘icing on the cake’…or ‘cherry on the pie’ or ‘lubricant in the engine’, are these: There are no doors to open. No keys to insert. No belts to wear. And no permissions to seek. No lights to stop at. No honks to listen to. No ‘one ways’. No potholes. No police man. If this is not freedom, what is ?!

With this happiness coursing my veins, i look at my fresh set of wheels today. With a heady rush, i start off. I push around with gay abandon. Taking sharp turns and making screeching halts. Throwing in an odd packet or two into the cart. (Lewis Hamilton may like it, but i particularly don’t like undue attention you see).

The only squeal i hear occasionally, is of the missus. With a look of disdain and disapproving disappointment, she seems to have disowned me. And stands afar, like another shopper. And when nobody looks, makes these sweeping gestures imploring, requesting, ordering, threatening etc, asking me to stop right there. Today, a rare, new found courage keeps me going.

Suddenly, an empty stretch. There are stacks of cookies on either side. And a 20 meter freeway straight ahead. I mentally rev and go for it. At the end of the ‘freeway’ i take a blind turn. Suddenly, right before me, appears a beautiful lady. With her cart. We almost collide into each other. With instincts that would qualify me to compete with a Video game specialist, we stop. Our carts, separated by fifty percent of a quarter of an inch.

She smiles an impish smile. I smile too. There are a thousand butterflies that fly. In all these decades of driving on the road, no woman, has smiled at me when i was at the wheel. Not one. (From the outside that is. For purposes of calculation, a smile from the seat beside, is …well..disqualified).

My love for my cart and this hyper market shoots through the roof.

She is panting as well. I realise. Before your imagination goes haywire, i must hasten to add that the panting is because she has been wheeling around. Just like me. And then, with a smile, she says, ‘ I have to entertain my son you see. He likes these rides’.

Ah. Explanation..but where is the son ? She points to the cart. And in a jiffy i see him. Seated right inside that beefy cart. My smile has a greater impish quotient. She has a ‘son-in-the- trolley’ as a reason. And i have three packets of potato wafers. I rankle my brain for a smart one liner. Or two liner. Or whatever. And the boy starts crying. Off she goes.

Some time later, i am billing those small quantities. The cashier seems to give me an odd look. Perhaps he is thinking, ‘so much of wheeling for this scrap’ ! I couldn’t care. And then, i spot the lady. Billing in the next lane.

And right behind me, i hear a voice. A gruff beefy voice. “Why do people think of these shopping carts as military armoured cars ? Is this a Humvee, huh ?!” I don’t turn my head. With a innocence plastered arrogance, i assume that that comment was for that lovely lady. And anybody who heard. Not me.

I look at the lady from corner of my eye. And i see her looking ( glaring) in my direction. And then discover, that glare is not at me. I think that the glare was reserved for the gruff voice. That proved it. That comment was for the lady.

Coming home, i look up Humvee and discover that it stands for “High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle”.

Of course. Of course. Of course. It is high mobility. And serves many many purposes. I want to confront this dude with the gruff voice.

I sure will return to this store. And to my Humvee ! Only to give that gruff voice the right perspective. Nothing else.

Really.

( Disclaimer : I hold no shares, share no interest, and the only place that i visit every week is my in-laws and the local temple. Not this place. So.)

The Sun.

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The sun has been an object of great intrigue, wonder and inspiration for me. And it is the sun which i have turned to, to get myself going. It is the sun that warms my skin in the chill and drives me cracking during the summer.

And in its many hues, it paints many pictures for me. When the mood is not upbeat, like now. Or when things can be better than what they are, the sun inspires.

Somehow, a bright sunny day, is something that i have come to like. Especially so in January ! Here are some pictures of the Sun ! All clicked with an amateurish tilt ! Do bear with me.

Snap : 1

I clicked this sitting on the passenger seat. The sun was rapidly sinking. So was the battery in the camera. And when i thought that the battery was completely dead, the sun appeared right ahead. With all the glory of a techni colour sun set, i rued the low battery but placed emphasis on hope.

I clicked, praying that i would get a shot. The camera went dead. But later, i did find that the sun god seemed to have answered my prayer !

Snap Series – II

This was an amazing evening. A little weary i watched the sun set from my home. It was actually setting beyond a thick black set of clouds. And just as i thought the sun had set, a part of it reappeared from below a cloud.

For a split second i thought it was a miracle, before realising what indeed was happening !

Snap – III

I finished a day long meeting at a hotel. And with a wistful glance into sky, i felt restive. Perhaps the meeting could have gone better, i thought. And then, there was this red ball of a sun.

In the line of my sight were electric transmission wires and paper wastes that had settled on them. But the backdrop provided by the sun seemed to obscure everything else ! And suddenly the waste didn’t seem to matter. For some strange reason, i felt better.

That was the sun.

I am told that it is pretty cold in many parts of the world right now. I hope the images of the sun provides some relief !!

PS : Do you think i am becoming sadist or something ?!?

Happy Pongal !

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Happy Pongal !

Tomorrow is Pongal. Wikipedia informs me that Pongal is akin to Thanksgiving. I only know that it is a festival of harvest. It is a festival of a new beginning, of sugar, of jaggery, of decorated cows and of course of pristine joy! Perhaps a flowing over the brim of all of these !!

Wikipedia also informs that the Tamil Nadu government has decided to announce that from this year on, Pongal will be Tamil New Year ! I guess they wanted to become Julius Caesar or somebody by changing the calendar. (Ah. I have given a word to my missus : No politics on the blog. Ok. So, i stop there. Right there). Thats a different issue.

Back home, Pongal meant four days of holidays. And those wonderful dishes that amma made. The prayer and the offering to the Sun, in the spacious courtyard of home ! And of course, sugarcane ! Endless sugarcane !

Pongal. Madurai ’06

This is a picture from the album. Pongal celebrations at home. 2006 ! My taste buds are already active, when i look at the offerings on the leaf. And of course, you cant miss the sugarcane. Those long, thick purple hued delights.

Pongal brings to mind a different time. And makes me miss home. And when you miss home, you miss home and the glorious times that were part of home ! Parents. Friends and the times !

Tomorrow however, the missus will wake up early in the morning, and make Pongal (the dish). And we’ll have a prayer standing in our apartment kitchen, from where we hope to catch a glimpse of the sun, and say a quiet thank you. And then, i run away to work and and she goes her way !

In that space would escape a thousand memories and a few techni colour memories peppered with longing for recreation and renewal to a far away land that’s close to a migrant heart.

Sugarcane. Pongal ’08

The one material thing that i would miss, is the purple hued sugar cane. We went around shopping for sugar cane, and ended up with what you see. That size would make a home grown drumstick from Madurai beam with pride !!

On another note, i guess Pongal is about a new beginning. About acknowledging the forces of nature that sustain us. About peace. About happiness. About community. About sincerity of a wish for a better tomorrow.

And that sincerity is not dependent on where you are or for that matter, by the length of sugarcane in your region !

So here is a sincere wish for you ! A sincere acknowledgement for being there and a prayer + hope for a better tomorrow for all of us !

Happy Pongal !