Musings

Crateful Markets !

Word Cache, , , , ,
The markets are in turmoil.

People say so. The newspapers say so. Every TV Channel worth the telecast rights says so. Any industrialist who doesn’t say so, is not one. Educationists say so, the world over. Many friends from the blog world says so.

Not to be left out, i want to say something about the markets too.

Ever since i graduated from B-School, ‘Market’ took a meaning of pinstripe suits, mega deals, pink newspapers, intense analysis, luck, spread sheets, mathematics, loads of money. These of course had one element in common : Me ! All of the above had a strange repelling effect on me ! They took the next street, when i came close to them !

Before B-School, ‘markets’ conjured different images : The fresh smell of vegetables, the dirty ground swathed with dropped green leaves, grimy soil, rotten tomatoes, cut coconut, broiler chicken, endless bargaining and a huge amount of energy.

I suddenly seem to get the connection, and understand why stocks are traded in ‘markets’ too.

The eternal construct of the old world market, was in its form. You traded in what you could see. For a price that was by and large equitable to value. The principles of supply and demand worked to ‘real demand’ ! You could touch the offering, and paid in hard currency. If your produce was sub-prime, your price automatically was sub-prime !

Sale didn’t happen because of serendipity. You didn’t buy two more cabbages because some pinstripe told you to. You bought it if you liked it. Or somebody in the family liked it. And those of course were the days of carefree eating, unpolluted by the oil-free-calorie-calculating agenda ! The veritable place offered the best breeding ground for veritable trade.

With a polyannish flourish, and additional inches to a wiseacre chest, here is my theory : The engine of the old world market was its simplicity. Or rather in its abhorrence of anything complex.

You could set it up in a jiffy. When its time to go home you go home with your store. But the essence of a certain degree of a ‘fair exchange’ & commerce took place ! True value was exchanged. And still gets. And these showcased Innovations in simplicity !

Here are some examples.

A foldable cot forms the merchandising area of this store. Infact, that forms the store. The trader displays his material, shouts out to the world, catches the odd mans attention and converts the sale !

Clicked at Malpao market in Goa.

You sure must have heard about Tele-shop. But have you seen an auto-shop ! Well, here is one. The shop is gone by the night. Only to reappear in the morning. With new merchandise and merchandising.

Vegetable / Fruit Vendors at Powai

And oh yes, supply chain, need not be imperious analytical minds, software that would almost get you the moon, heavy duty warehouses and so on. All it could take is a gunny bag and some strong arms !

Clicked on the road. Somewhere in Mumbai

An inverted crate and 2 X 2 ft is all that this lady has to sell a perishable product. She told me she makes about Rs.300/- a day and sleeps a happy woman. I asked her, what does she aim to do ? She told me, ‘ Sell my ware. Earn my money. Get my sleep.’ That was as simple as it could get.

And i sure could tell, she was crate-ful ! Even after her merchandise was exhausted !

Clicked at a market in Goa

Another City. Same Tunes.

Travel Tales, , , , ,
Work had me travel to Chennai.

Chennai is like any other Indian metropolis. Only more familiar to me. Thats because, I can read whats written on the walls. Those posters and graffiti scream for attention and my mind hoovers up, before you could say hoover up !

My eyes rest on the road and sees whats abuzz. The strife for more, the constant stretching of limits, an existential reality that is so typical of all big cities. And Chennai is no exception.

We drive on & I see the St.Thomas Mount Shrine, atop the hillock. I vividly recall my times there. Beautiful, serene and pristine place, the ‘mount’, soothed frayed nerves in a tough time, many years ago.

As we drive on i spot a BMW showroom ! Ah. I think. I smile to myself. The object behind many a prayer, i think !! Self chiding auto-starts. ‘Devious Mind’ !

Forcefully wanting to switch attention, i close my eyes. The ears come alive. ‘Suryan FM’, the local FM Radio station, is on. Perhaps the drivers favourite. ‘Blade No:1’ is the program that is on, with a gent who calls himself ‘Blade Shankar speaking non-stop, as though stopping would get activate a nuke or something !

For now, this program has listeners call in and narrate a PJ ( PJ stood for Poor Joke. I don’t know what it stands for in the modern times). And this gent himself has a few PJs up his sleeve.

‘An Elephant walks on the road and come to a signal. But he doesn’t cross the road. Why?’, asks someone. My eyes are happy to remain shut. Half in disbelief, half in mild-amusement. ‘Because it is a Zebra crossing’, someone else says ! A Siamese twin combo of ‘sigh and a smile’ escape escape my pursed lips.

Interspersed with such prolific thinking, are ads for various products. One such is for ‘aruna kayiru’ ( RTT: a black string tied around a toddler’s http://www.buyambienmed.com (usually) waist. I think i had one tied around my waist when i used to crawl. As a kid, that is. So they say).

This ad goes ‘buy 1000 metres of ‘aruna kayiru’ get 5 metres free’. I wonder, why on earth would anybody buy 1000 metres of that string ? But thats the ad.

My eyes remain closed.

In a short while, there is a movie song that is being played. A male voice croons :

Paal PappaZhi,
Nalla Takkazhi
Own Kootazhi
Ennai Samali

RTT :

Milky Papaya
Good Tomato
Your friend (me)
try handling me !!

I shake my head in disbelief. lyricist are working real hard, i think ! And almost as if on cue, the young driver says, ‘ nice song saar’ ! My head still shaking, i tell the driver ‘I have been away for long’. Not in the least sounding as though my presence here would have caused the songs & lyrics themselves to be any different. But my ‘bearing quotient’ would have been !!

The car stops. My eyes open to see.

We are at a toll gate. There is a signboard for a ‘reserved road’ which says, ‘Govt Vehicles and extra wide vehicles only’ ! I wonder why would they want to make that distinction !! Govt vehicles with their occupants automatically are extra wide. Aren’t they ?

My eyes involuntarily close. My ears become alive again. Suryan FM has a contest going now. This ‘Blade Shankar’ chap asks for an equivalent tamil word for ‘Election’ and provides viewers with numbers to call in with answers.

I wonder, since when ‘election’ or its tamil equivalent hit such nadirs that they become subjects for arbid quizzes on a show titled ‘Blade No : 1’. The chest thumping on ‘we are the largest democracy’ must have rubbed somebody right. Or wrong. somewhere.

I shudder to think of the possibility of some bloke calling in with a wrong word.

Thankfully we reach our destination. And i don’t know, what happened. I hope people got it right. Hope springs eternal. They say.

In Chennai too.

The Spring of Renewal

Travel Tales, , , , ,
Snap clicked somewhere after Dindigul, from the alley way of train no: 6732

So, we are back ! It was one heck of a trip ! A trip that took us to Bangalore, Tirupati, Madurai & Coimbatore & back here. Air. Road. Rail.

Such trips often leave me tired. This one has left my body a trifle tired, but mentally, it has left me rather reflective. Of blessings. Challenges. The past. Present. The days ahead. Parents. Fellow travellers. Friends. And so on.

A rich kaleidoscope of colour and multi hued images have come to reside with me. Faces. Shadows. Silhouettes. Full pictures. Images. Each face has had many stories to tell. Each story has had so many parts and i have been privy to only some facets of them ! In memories we are richer.

The feeling that there is a larger purpose over and beyond everything else seems to be taking a firmer footing. In the feeling of belongingness we are richer.

My riches, i will share here, in the days to come. It may or may not be useful. After all, foreign currency is a another piece of metal in native land ! It sure gives me a good feeling to share though! So, will do.

In the meanwhile, tomorrow, work will dawn along with the rising sun. And i know that as i would wear my shoes to work, there sure will be a spring from somewhere within. The tiredness in the body is worth enduring to get that spring in the step.

Ah. That spring of renewal !

My mole appears !

Word Cache, , , ,

If the title of this post leads your mind to race towards James Bond, his boss – M and of course, cavorting beautiful women, well, er…have patience.

Read on.

When you are face to face with your mole, life is so different.

This mole arrived unannounced at home. And appeared right in front of me. Just as I was combing my hair. There was a brief stare in disbelief from my side. And a peering close. Real close to check, if indeed this was my mole !

The understated yet powerful arrival, in true Warren Buffet style, took me by surprise. Quite a surprise. I looked all around. Part in disbelief. Part in surprise. Part in…I don’t know what.

The knowledge that I was presented to my mole http://www.buyambienmed.com/ambien-comparison/ without fanfare & the permanence of the presentation still unnerves me.

Only my maker, and he alone, knows how many more such moles I am yet to get acquainted with. For he made them all. And as I stare into the mirror every time that I comb my hair or wash my face, my mole stares at me.

That which was kept well within the ‘border’, for all these years, has come out in the open . As the hair line goes on recession mode! Its on a perpetual recession mode for some years now.

For me, there is obviously more face to clean and less hair to comb ! For now, the mole has arrived. And continues to stare. Oblivious to face wash and moisturisers !

The Pale Blue Wall

Word Cache, , , ,
On Mumbai’s busy roads, the pavements have lived to tell many tales. Tales of resilience, survival, joy, sadness, suffering and a co-existing framework which has every oxymoronic possibility surviving many a test. Including the test of time.
On a friday evening i stilled ongoing life on the pavement. Two photographs, clicked in quick succession, from the confines of a comfortable car that was moving. These scenes are so common, that the eyes refuse to stop and stare. On this particular Friday, my eye first saw and rested with what i saw. The capture by the camera provoked this post. Fortuitous images that are so common! The pictures tell a tale. Picture one. And Picture two. I attempt to tell the same.

Picture 1:

This appears to be a living quarters of a fellow Mumbaiite. There are pictures of ‘God(s)’ that hang from a borrowed wall. Multi hued images in a pale blue background get distilled attention. Dried leftovers of a garland adorning some pictures. A peacock feather perhaps in ‘honour’ of Lord Krishna. Or perhaps it was Lord Kartikeya. Life seems to have moved on. Goddess Lakshmi right up there. She, the Goddess of wealth seems devoid of the dried garland.

Stacked bricks on one side, which in all probability is a boundary of some sort. A stuffed polythene bag and another cloth bag that hang from two different nails add to the precociousness of the dwelling. On the same pale blue borrowed wall. Maybe, that was all. That made a room. Perhaps a home.

Of course, there is the red tiled pavement of the Mumbai http://www.eta-i.org/xanax.html Corporation and the blue sky of mother nature, which neednt be mentioned as they are not ‘personal belonging’. But in this context they seem relevant. Very.

Picture 2:

Right next door, life continues. Buckets which held engine oil once upon a time and a motley assembly of multi hued plastic pots metamorph into a partition. An old tarpaulin sheet and another polythene sheet which seem to have seen many monsoons and summers come & go, occupy the picture. Well, these sheets will tell quite a few stories. To the pavement and the sky ! Regardless of the stories, they do provide some kind of a roof and a stilled living quarters right below.

A clock on the wall stares through. Perhaps to tell time just in case mother nature plays truant !! The rope that holds the trapaulin together is fastened to a lamp post. And it doubles up as the cloth-line too. Life under a lamp post !

The cot and the cyle in front, lend themselves to become the front wall of the home. Whenever sleep or rest beckon, they sure must be moved. But that must be a different story. A plate with grains meets the eye. Odd placement though. Just before the cycle. Perhaps an offering. perhaps food for the night. Perhaps.

And oh yes, there is a bare chested man, tending to the Gods.

Life goes on, under the lamp-post. With the borrowed wall, the red pavement and the blue sky providing context. And oh yes, the Gods. They are up there too. On the pale blue borrowed wall.

Republic Day Flavours

Word Cache, , ,

Every Republic Day used to be special. I used to wear Khadhi and see contingents of the Police and the NCC walk past the collector at Madurai. Some years before that, I used to be walk by in the NCC ( National Cadet Corps) Navy contingent. Polished shoes, sparkling white uniform, and the marching drum used to be worth all the kilometers of marching in the name of rehearsals. ( Distance terms, I think we would have gone around the globe. Twice !).

I age. The nation ages. The republic day tone gets a new flavour. In the apartment complex where we stay, the motely crew of security gaurds ( & a loud ‘command giver’ ) became the mainstay of the Republic Day function.

When the loud ‘commander’ gave his orders “ Teen o teen dhaine chalega, Dhaine mode” ( ‘Right Turn’ to the uninitiated), some turned left. Others turned right. Some others turned halfway and turned halfway back again. Smiling sheepishly at each other, they were turning on all sides! I restrained my laughter! Come on, these were security gaurds & not remotely close to the marchers !!!

We waited patiently for 20 minutes for the music system to get some electricity. The flag remained all tied up.. It reminded me of the India that was till sometime back : All tied in, while the world turned around in all directions !!

Just as I was thinking electricity or rather the lack of it, was going to suck the electricity of the day, somebody decided to get on with it. The function got underway, and an elderly gent unfurled the flag and spoke about a whole lot of things. From upliftment of the apartment complex to rooting out corruption.

The tricolour didn’t seem to care. It waited for the first gust of wind to start fluttering. It did. In all its glory. First tentatively. Then a little confidently. Seemed to me, that the fluttering was an attempt to make up for all the delay in keeping it wrapped up and tied down.

As a nation we seem to have come a long way. From being tied to the mast for a long time, to where we are now. The wind has caught us & we seem to be fluttering away!! The times they have changed. My attitude has changed. I didn’t wear khadhi this time. Not consciously. But somehow I think I have moved on beyond symbolism.

And when the national anthem played, the chest swelled in as much pride as before. Perhaps a little more. To watch the tricolour flutter in all its glory. This ad has been a personal favourite for a long while. I think it is topical !

My Last Post.

Word Cache, , , ,
From Bangalore.

And i must add..’for now’ !

Well, the fine print counts ! Doesn’t it !?!

Early tomorrow morning we fly to Mumbai. My friends tell me Mumbai is a tough city to live in, especially if you are used to Bangalore. I am going to check it out !

Our goods have moved. The house is empty. And tomorrow morning, we move ! Its been hectic. The new job and the promise of the excitement that it holds makes it seem worth it all. Time will tell !

“Isnt it tough for you to commence living in Mumbai?” my friends ask me. To me, the bigger ask seems to be leaving Bangalore. The city has grown on us. Infact we grew along with it ! But, life goes on !

As we said our goodbyes to our friends today, i realised that true wealth is in having people & relationships. People who you have touched. And people who have touched you ! It was so special. Each goodbye was different. Each special. Each treasured. So will be my goodbye to the city of Bangalore: special & treasured !

Life goes on ! And there will be a change in ‘place line’ to this blog too ! But that will be atleast night later ! This blog drew its inspiration from this city. And so, it indeed is justified in having its last whiffs of the city!!

The national anthem stays. There are two forms of it here. The instrumental and the vocal ! Symbolic. Perhaps of an effective closure & another of a new beginning.

Wish me luck ! I would need tons of it !

Celebrating the tricolour !

Word Cache, , , ,

One more independence day ! One more occasion to look back with pride, consternation, happiness, sadness, fear, joy. Its been a mixed bag. For a long time now. Perhaps, from day one !

There were scores of people who struggled with a vision to get us out of where we were. And our progress in the recent times, must have had their hearts glad. As we as a nation, rise from the ashes of a bygone era. One part of their hearts, at least. While the other parts mourn the…well, theres a long list there as well.


My camera caught these pictures. And i wondered if we will ever be able to completely break out the shackles and move ahead. Up and away. Move beyond symbolism to solidity. Despite the silly politicians and a sicker fickle mind in the collective mass called ‘us’. Hopefully we will.

Will we be able to ensure every child is educated, and build a stronger future for all. A future where caste, creed and other similar words were words that people look up in the dictionary to find the meaning of. Hopefully we will.

Will we be able to turn corruption on its head ? Consolidate our gains. Cut our losses. Wring out the bad. Ring in the new. Think differently. Take on the world. March with pride. Hopefully we will.

The fluttering of the Indian flag has always had my heart flutter a while. To see it flutter on this blog has given a strange happiness. To hear the tune of the national anthem here, brings a tinge of happy moist to a dry eye and a satisfaction to the heart.

Along with a moistness in the eye is a bizarre feeling in the heart that ‘all is well’ ! The mind refuses to believe all is well. The heart seems to say ‘i know better’ ! As the mind & heart battle it out…Here is Tagore. This used to be a prayer song in school. Now, it is a prayer that escapes my lips every other day !

Where the mind is without fear and the head held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Happy Independence Day ! May the spirit of freedom be with us all !

_______________________________________________________________

Now for some trivia !

I saw this temple at Madurai. At first glance you dont notice anything. ( i didnt for so many years)


But then, upon closer look….

Would you know of any other temple where Gandhi is placed alongside the Gods ! That was very interesting !! BTW, there is Nehru on the other side of the gopuram too !

Well whats cooking this independence day for you ? For starters, my mom made independence day dosas some days back!

In tricolour !


Independence day special !

Back To The Future !

Word Cache, ,
Today i was home. At home.

Yesterday was my last working day in what now is my ‘previous’ employer! The process of moving out has never been easy for me ! I wanted to handover every pin and project ! And boy, was it energy sapping ! ( Explains my absence from here… )

After a meticulous handover to a colleague, as i packed my bags to go home, a cornucopia of emotions rushed through me. Maintaining a bland face in an indifferent world, i said my farewells and drove home. I wrote a simple farewell note ! And was quite surprised that so many people wrote back to wish me luck ! ( By the way, you must read this farewell note. Mine was far from it though !)

Today, i picked up my pieces. And hope to get back in shape. Physically. Mentally. In shape in this space. With my friendships. With people. The list is long ! And going by the length of the to-do list, it looks like i am awfully out of shape !!

So, what next ?

I have a few options. The first one, is to go to Madurai, sometime next week! Spend time with folks. The city. Old friends. Catching up with all other blogs. My courses. Renewing friendships & bonds….All of that is number one priority ! I dont have much time at hand. But now, where do i start..!! 🙂

And oh, i almost missed it..! Kavis Musings got featured in the ‘Bangalore Mirror’ ! The post titled “When did you last..” got to page 31. And there were quite a few appreciative notes from readers. Now, if that were an indicator, I would like to believe i am destined for bigger things ! What do you think ?!?

In a couple of weeks, i will be stepping into a new job. As i turn my back to the immediate past, i hope to rediscover my rhythm. And begin anew ! To get back to the future !

Todays music is Nickelback’s ‘If Everyone Cared’. Simply love the song ! My emotions captured !!

And as we lie beneath the stars
We realize how small we are
If they could love like you and me
Imagine what the world could be

If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
Then we’d see the day when nobody died
When nobody died…

Find the full lyrics here

So, am back. And will keep writing. Thanks a ton for all your support. The mails. The calls. The comments. I feel blessed having you & this space in my life !

Singing Amen, I, I’m alive
Singing Amen, I, I’m alive
(I’m alive)

Mustafa. The Messiah !

Travel Tales, , ,

The rain pelts its might in short intermittent bursts. Taking portions of the road as it runs off to the sides! Fluid remains. A mix of sand, dust, rain water, government apathy & human resilience. Mumbai in the midst of monsoon madness.

We are driving back from Mulund. The wet tyre finds an an invisible crater in the middle of the road, announcing the find with a thud that shakes the whole car and us. We continue to drive and not before long, Sudipto feels a drag in the steering wheel. We park on the side. The tyre is flat. The rim is bent. The clock shows 12.15 AM. The road is wet and soggy.

Sudipto calls Maruti service. And many other services. “As per policy we don’t send in vehicles for a flat tyre”. “Why don’t you do it yourself, i will give instructions to you on the phone” “Do you see any Petrol station nearby”…and such conversations continue. We look around in desperation.

About 5 meters from the car stands a man. A well dressed young man whose gold plated watch’s glitter catches my attention. Sudipto walks upto him and asks a simple question. “Could you help us out..?” “Where is the spare wheel, where are the tools” is the response. In 10 minutes its all done.


Going on all fours, on a wet and soggy Mumbai road is not exactly a pleasure trip. But then, the speed, professionalism and immaculate attention to detail in fixing the spare wheel hold me in awe. 10 minutes and we were ready to move.

Sudipto proffers money. The man refuses. Sudipto looks at me in disbelief. I look at the man in double disbelief. We insist. We really INSIST. He relents. We ask for his name and a permission to shoot his snap. ‘Mustafa‘ he says. I think aloud , “Mustafa, the messiah” ! Sudipto reads my mind and says, “thats a good title”. I smile.

I think back. He came from nowhere. He worked on the wheel with such professionalism that would have shown a professional mechanic in poor light. He genuinely refused the money ! For work done to a strangers car in the middle of a rainy night. With no other better urge than an urge to help. And do a thorough job at that ! He truly was our messiah.

That rainy Mumbai night. This post in celebration of such messiahs. Ordinary messiahs who stand out with simple yet extraordinary deeds.

While the world fights over messiahs who are dead and gone,
Messiahs like Mustafa make the world go on !