Ramble

‘Un’common Wisdom !

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At 7.50 in the morning i wait at the lift. Press once. And for a full 3 minutes and change, the lift remains stuck at the previous floor. There is substantial anger that is seeping in me.

I think of ‘sensitive’ people-experiences that i have had in the past. ‘Husband-gets-in-keeps-the-lift-open-for-wife’ types ! Those kinds are numerous in the complex where i stay ! My chest swells with anger. Today, i resolve, i am going to have a few things to say to such ‘sensitive’ husbands and wives, i decide.

The lift opens. There is a lady, with her two children there. The children, all decked for school. Except for the hair. The little girl’s hair is still getting combed. The lady looks up at me, and says, ‘we are sorry’. ‘They have the bus to catch’. My anger dissipates.

I smile. And say, ‘thats not a problem’ !

The lift arrives at the ground level. I point to the door, and say, ‘ after you ‘. She herds the kids out, looks at me and says, ‘thank you’ !

It feels nice. I wonder where my anger went. A few minutes later, as i drive i reflect. Common courtesies are so rare these days, that the most simplest of them : Sorry and Thank You, are so rarer than honest politicians !

In the high rise that we stay in, there are educated & well endowed folks ( with money et al, just in case you thought of something else), who reek perfume and drive mega wheels. And there are the others who would like to belong to this set !

While ‘everything else’ is present in abundance, Common courtesies seem to be in short supply !

To be able to say ‘hello’, to smile, to give way to the elderly, to say thank you & sorry !are simple things to do !

I wonder why the arrival of money dispels courtesy ! I wonder. Thats some thought for the day.

I think i value and practice a fair degree of courtesy. By corollary : I cannot have money and mega wheels right ?!?

Ah ! Now, i know why i cant make that money ! Atleast now, there is a reason !

This morning, wisdom arrived through the lift !

The Two Minute Tale !

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It was 7.23 am. I was getting into my trousers to get to work, hurriedly stealing glances at the clock that emits a tick for each moment it packs into eternity. My lovely mrs. remarked glancing at the same clock, ‘By this time we were married’.

That was years ago. This day. I froze for a moment. The scenes of that tumultuous day(s) made a kaleidoscope of a comeback.

The photographers continued to have dictatorial powers through the entire day. I changed costumes like an actor in a reality show. Alternating between dhoti, kurta, trousers and of course a suit. For some reason, till date, the mrs doesn’t understand the origins of my ‘weird‘ choice in going for a pale grey suit that looked ‘white’ under the lights !

I have agreed with her, like i generally do, and have quietly pointed out that if there was a fault line along choice, it permeated to ALL choices in life ! For i have no particular penchant for grey !! Or for suits, for that matter. That statement is usually met with a stoical silence !

The wedding itself went well. Friends came. Long lost relatives feigned smiles and made small talk for the video camera. Ego clashes thrived.

Both our parents were emotional. The bachelor friends smiled at me. They were still standing ! The married friends, were also smiling. For now, they had company, and one less of the bachelor tribe.

All in all, everyone was all smiles.

Thus started our journey ! From there on, we have meandered northward.

From Madurai. To Bangalore. Then on to Mumbai.

The ‘Rented apartment-Home Loan-Own Apartment’ cycle hit us. Ditto with the two-wheeler, four-wheeler evolution. The books have kept growing. New friends have continued to emerge. Wonderful neighbours live, lived and let us live. New connections continue getting established. Crazy decisions lead us to learning.

Saturday Tea & eating binges mean(t) new cloth sizes. We travel(lled). Have had our share of adventure. We take long walks, often arguing about a common subject, and sometimes just walking in each others presence.

The snaps that we click are ‘still’ images. Reminders of another moment in time. We lost money. Made money. Somewhere in betweenSaved some,. And still continue to repay loans. We are thankful for the roof over our heads.

Most important, we seem to have learnt from all.

We would like to believe we have grown ! And i think we have. Atleast, we seem to think of things differently. Wonderful parents from whom we learn on a minute to minute basis, and of course some phenomenal people who make our family & friends have pushed us there !

We saw people turn their backs on us. And we see new faces emerge. We meet people like Vanita & we resolve to journey on. We have hope that the tomorrow is going to be better for all of us. And so, we rumble on.

Between me and the mrs, interests & passions are on ompletely different ends of the spectrum.
Books Vs Arbid ( i call it so ) entertainment . Financial Prudence Vs Easy Living. Fitness Vs Taste Buds based living. Solitude Vs Socialising. Tamilzh Movies Vs Hindi Movies.

And such else.

Should i not be reasonably glad that we have clung on to each other.

After all she is the one who married the man, who chose a ‘weird ‘ pale grey suit. And i married the woman, who chose the man with weird choices !

‘Its 7.25 ! Are you just going to stand there. Dont blame me if you are going to get delayed…….’. Calls out the mrs.

At that call, trance evaporates. One heck of a six years spun by in two quick minutes. Life is like that.

I run.

Fortune in the elevator

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It was in school that i read this short story by R.K. Naryan titled ‘An Astrologer’s Day’ ! I distinctly remember that day. For it was on that day that my faith in Palmists, parrots, tarot cards, star alignment et al came crashing down !

That day marked the beginning of a deep suspect of the astrologer. So, every time there is an odd astrologer who makes a prediction about Sonia Gandhi staying in power or the Indian cricket team losing or the stock markets gaining steam and the bread & butter ‘based on this chart, this girl well be able to sexually satisfy this man in bed’, i wonder what else could be the angle !?!

This ad brought me back those memories !

It is with some deal of amusement that i hear my fortune for the day dutifully read out. Sample this : ‘your intuition and unconscious thoughts is always high, and it will become even more pronounced now. Pay close attention to business, and financial affairs. Temporary sacrifices will pay off in the long run. Apply your management skills to personal matters”

There is no line which you can dispute ! Of course finances need to be looked at. Duffer, temporary sacrifices lead to bigger pay offs in the long run….! You cant dispute universal truths can you. Nevertheless, to deviously win an argument i decided to read it again in the evening after the day was done.

I proclaimed with the triumphant banter of a small time chieftain : All of this is humbug ! I was asked why ? ( By you know who ). I said there was no conscious point in time where all of what was written was particularly true !

In response to which, each line was carefully read out. And special emphasis placed on ‘intuition and unconscious thoughts always high’. And then the judgement was pronounced : If the thoughts were unconscious, of course, i wouldn’t feel them !

At the altar of the believers, my case rests. May your reading in tomorrow newspaper talk about finding your love mate in the attic. Or in the balcony. Wherever.

The Name is Rajinikanth

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The book on the table gives a Rajini glare !
It is with some level of interest that ‘The Name is Rajinikanth’ by Gayathri Sreekanth is being read here! It is a hagiography on the tamizh super star, who has had a stellar rise to super stardom ( yes, bus conductor ..etc etc ). The book caught the eye at a bookstore, but it was only when a senior IIM-A professor pulled this book out, in response to a question on what he was reading, that ensured a hastened to pick it up !

The book is a simple read, and it chronicles the rise & rise of Rajini through the years. This book of course, provides a run through like a neighbour who has peering eyes on your window. Standing afar but ‘knows’ whats up with you ! And in parts, appears rather hagiographic !

Whats more important is that it gives the average ‘English’ Rajini fan, a glimpse of the life and times of the Superstar ! If you overlook the flaws in the book, that is. Alternating between the ‘then’ and ‘now’, the book gives you numerous incidents. And if you are able to string your thoughts on the same & draw your own balanced views, well, it helps !

One other key reason for me to dive into the book is the intrigue that rests in me, about Rajinikant himself. What caused his meteoric rise ? How did it all happen ? Where did he find traction ? How does he carry on ? The book has various anecdotal references and tells you that he sleeps on the floor with no air-conditioners, travel in an old ambassador car, has no ego etc etc, but that, to me is data that is ab axial.

What perhaps is more important is the setting of a context to the data. That, is left to the reader !?!

So there. A collection of various incidents in his life, by an evident fan ! Thats that, on the book !!

Today Kuselan is released. 20 roles for the superstar they say. If he is supposed to be present in the film for only 25 % of the time, and he is supposed to don 20 different roles in that 25 % time, it is hoped they arent talking of costume changes !

And of course, there is considerable celebration around the release in itself. A theatre that closed down (to be converted into a mall) has reopened here in Mumbai. Am sure the fans will do their bit with aartis and pal abhishekam ( milk offerings), like the last time around, to his images.

Die hard fans will unilateraly declare a holiday and be at the theatres ! The star himself was present in yesterday’s news, for other reasons !

So, whats this all about ?

The book quotes someone call him a phenomenon. He sure is. Nothing else explains the Rajini magic that enguls Tamizh Nadu ! With fan clubs, and an army who twitch cigarettes and mouth his dialogues, because they were done by the star himself !

My hypothesis !?!

The sophisticated world has English Premier League. Formula 1. Were there is synchronised marketing and mass appeal built around an enigma. For the average tamizhian on the street, Rajinikant was is not only Formula 1, but also the only formula !!

PS : Early reviews by fans ( who went in for the 6.00 AM show have been very positive ). He is supposed to be playing himself. That explains the 20 roles !

I hope to know today evening !

Long Distance Call.

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Many years back, we installed this bell back home. It is the calling bell. It doesnt run on electricity. It works on the old system of ‘you-pull-string-i-ring’ !

In ways more than one, this bell, has stood at the gate.

Every visitor to our home has to pass through its majestic beam & distinct clang. Every visitor rings the bell to announce his or her arrival. Particularly appealing, was the fact that every visitor could create his or her own music according to the way in which he or she pulled the string !

Like the good old times !!!

And everybody did so. The naughty child who wants to clamour on to his fathers shoulder just to create music . The newspaper vendor who is in a hurry, but just wants to announce the papers’ delivery. The milk vendor. The old relative. The young student. Me. My brother. Friends. The pharmacists. Mere Acquaintances. Etc. Etc. All types.

In a way, the bell has witnessed all the entrys and exits at home. The entry & eixits of all house hold helps. The debtors. Creditors. Health. Wealth. People. Possessions.

Standing mute spectator or musical announcer. My marriage. My brother’s marriage. Listless times. Hospital times. Energetic times. My moving to Bangalore. And now to Mumbai.The bell has stood its ground !

Everytime the gate opened for the car or the bike to drive in, the bell would chime. And i would caress the outer brass, just to feel the distinct low chime ! The bell at the gate seemed welcoming to me. Never faltering. Always welcoming.

And that perhaps has been a philosophy that we have tried practicing: To stay welcoming. Of change, of people, their ideas, opinions and quirks. Far from successful, the effort continues, with the good old bell, singing a pole star rhyme!

Today, for some reason, the bell seems to beckon. The old chime & the music of the caress wake me up in the middle of the night. The chime seems to have travelled all the distance to Mumbai !

Perhaps the bell is missing me. Perhaps it seeks the caress of my finger & recreate that music ‘those’ times. Perhaps its time to create new music with the old bell !

Perhaps its time to go home for a while.

Dont Exchange !

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This note came along, as an insert, to todays newspaper.

As i see it, this seems to be the proposition to newspaper readers like me !! I haven’t called these numbers to check further, so i wouldnt know the exact details. But this is how it appears to me.

a. Anything i need to sell off / ‘dispose’, (From Waterman pens to Cartier, Rolex, Blancpain etc watches, to Old Cars to Video cameras, to air conditioners to many more ‘electronic gedeges’), all i would need to do, is call this Manalin Electronics. ( I guess he has an ‘anything-into-electronics’ converter. Like converting a JPG file in someother format !)

b. He comes home, picks it up and pays me cash. On the contrary, if i exchange it with a white goods dealer, the dealer gives me a discount on a new product in exchange of the old product that i am currently using. It ties me up in many ways and most important : i do not get cash in hand. Liquid money sure is honey !

c.This ad quotes ‘all exchange in MRP price’. Am not sure about that. What can that mean ? Would i get the price that i originally paid? That cant be. But that seems to be the claim here !

d. There will be an exchange, no matter if the article is in ‘working, non-working any condition’ !

The service that i am used to seeing, that comes closest to this, is your ‘old newspaper walaah’. Roaming around in cycles and souting their throats dry, they used to accept old newspapers, old clothes & perhaps old utensils, for cash. Small & tidy sums but a thriving business. This ad indicates that the business has climbed a new height.

I guess, the potential exists. As people transition into new products, goods and services the ‘relics of the past’ need to be disposed. Perhaps what comes in the way of such ‘disposal’ is inertia, considering the activities that would be involved in taking the item, finding a place, negotiating a price etc.

Here is a one stop solution. Call-come home-give cash ! Now thats a value proposition of some kind !

We live in interesting times dont we !

Disclaimer :

I do not have any stake in Manalin Electronics or in its group companies. Nor have i tried this service. By no means is this any suggestion that you should try or approach this store. Regular readers would know that i am few light years from a Rolex, Omega, Piaget etc etc. The electronic ‘gedeges’ that i own continue to work. All i have is some old newspapers. So.

Mumbai !

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After almost a year of living here, i was asked in a meeting. A simple question, ‘Where do you live’.

I gave him the answer.

‘Ah. The Central side’ was the response.

And out of a need to sustain conversation, i asked, ‘ and you ?’. He said, ‘oh me..i live in Mumbai’ ! ( The last word underlined twice).

To the South Mumbai resident, i was almost an outcast.

We decided to find out the real reason behind the swagger of ‘South Mumbai’. Wanting to tell the world that Mumbai was indeed Mumbai. All the way around and that swagger was ‘unnecessary projection’ that we could see through !!

We came back defeated. Not by the swagger, but by the sheer heritage of the place. Rich, tall European buildings that stand really tall. And provide such an impressive backdrop that provides the air to the chin that touches the sky !

Here are some pictures !

The Victoria Terminus now called Chatrapathi Shivaji Terminus stands tall and majestic. That which was built in some 100 plus years ago, now is the reference point landmark for Mumbai’s transportation & orientation.

If you thought the outsides were fabulous, the insides are no less. If you only care to look at the ceiling !



The David Sassoon library looks particularly impressive. I only wonder if it is the impressive architecture or the South Mumbai air, or my liking for books !?!?


To think that Mumbai was given as a dowry to the British confounds me no end. They gave it as something that went free. An add on ! What an add on. So we strolled for some more time. Clicked some pictures. Had a jumbo sugar cane juice.

And then, took the train back home. And when we came home, we had to be careful. That we did not carry the swagger with us !!

Standing. Rain. Refrain !

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Well, they just stood there. As the rain Gods showed thier might & as the BMC ( a.k.a Corporation) stood on mute mode, these creatures stood their ground.

The schools declared holidays. Offices asked employees to work from home. Trains ran slow. On some lines they didnt. But oh these birds, they stood their ground!

The neigbourhood was out complaining about the BMC, while ignoring the plastic waste that each house was dumping into the rain water drains. Alyque Padamse came on TV & talked about the rains & BMC. Mahesh Bhatt came on TV & spoke about the rain & BMC. So did such other sundries with similar sundry subjects. The radio jockeys continued to babble. But these birds. Oh they never heard a thing. For they rain bathed like a carefree Romanian gypsy by the Mediterranean sea.

The car had water almost till the door handle. On the outside, thankfully. The number plate got washed away. Calls http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/xenical_generic.html landed on the phone with bated breath and ‘hope all is ok, this is your first monsoon here’ refrain. All in concern. All in care.

The few minutes of panic ridden activity seems pointless when i look at these birds. A shake there. A ruffle here. A twitch of a feather. And a scratch with the beek. Standing without a care!

The rain continues to pelt for hours. Without pause. So much so, that it doesnt seem to be droplets of water but strings of water connecting earth and sky. In the continuity appearing like powerful strings that were standing still !!

So the rains were standing up. The commuters were standing. The school boys were standing. The office goers were standing. Men. Women. Cars. Buses. Dogs. Taxis. Cows. Neighbours. Autorickshaws. Buses. Security Gaurds. TV cameramen. Me. All standing !!

In contrast. Ruffling the unruffled feathers , in that distant terrace, so were the birds….!

My mole appears !

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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 !

Monsoon Lessons !

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When the monsoon rains hit the floor, or the iron railing or you or anybody else, they hit with such relish. And with the same non-discriminating intensity. And when they form those droplets that the dog and the cow shake off with vigour you realise that it is the same droplets that get absorbed into towels of many hues at home. Perhaps evaporating against the numbing power of a noisy hair drier.

And as the lost droplet seems to linger on the railing, for just a while longer, playing a strange game with gravity, you watch with intensity. A fabian moment that lingers just a while longer.

The rain continues to fall noisily, showing what the Mumbai monsoon stands for : Relentless persistence. The droplets continue their game. You continue to watch. Time is on the run.

Or rather, time stands still. You watch.

And you watch the beauty of the rain water morph into beautiful droplets that run across the iron railing. And in a minute, gathering weight to fling themselves at the floor with the same relish.

Nature teaches you. Life & living.