Lost in the crowd

Too much to do, too little time. When I was young my parents said, study now so that you can play later in your life. When I was in my teens they said, this is the time to study and think about your career, you'll get lots of time for your stuff when you are older. When I was passed out college they said, think about your future - this is your time to make your career, once you get settled you'll have lots of time to spare.

I'm now settled in my career but I still don't have time for myself. This mad rush for success keeps me from enjoying the simple pleasures of life. However, I do understand the advice of my parents, they did not have a choice coming from a middle class family that we are.

Last few weeks I could not find time to write even a few lines on my blog. But I kept thinking is this how I want to live? Guess, I have no choice either; but I am determined to make the life of my kid different - I don’t know how, yet, but I'll figure out. I'll have to figure out.

My First School

It was actually a Pre-School and I must be, I'm guessing, around 3 years old. No fancy Pre-School like the ones that we have today in the metropolis' just another one that’s down a few blocks. I remember, one of the school teacher's would pick me up (not literally, and certainly not in a transport - we walked) from my house and drop me home in the afternoon. The school time was fun (I mean, when we had breaks), once the typical ABC and 123 classes got over, we would go berserk much to the annoyance of the teachers.

I loved the time spent at school, after all it helped me show-off my newly gained knowledge and the rhymes, specially the rhymes! I even got my mom tape my rhymings, umpteen times and believe it or not I had that cassette until a few years ago. Almost every time we had guests at our place, they would be subjected to my rhymes - I loved it.

Learning new things is so much fun. I love to learn as much as I can and not necessarily on any specific topic. Recently I ordered Entrepreneurs: Talent, Temperament, Technique by John Thompson and am awaiting delivery.

Spine Flu

Have you heard the latest? The Swine Flu b@$t@rd will have a second wave of casualties when it genetically mutates! Try Eucalyptus oil, or chew clove or, wait wait, try the hot salt water gargle - it works... WOW, people do get worked up these days: all they need is a reason. (Did I just say reason?) Naah, not reason: fear of getting dead is what wakes us up, instantly. Fear of being vulnerable, like anyone else, otherwise how would you explain the apathy towards victims of other diseases.

Scores of people die of diseases such as (the simpler ones) diarrhea, cholera, (and the not so simpler ones) HIV, TB: but who cares. These diseases don't affect us...its for the poor ones.

There's lot to be done in other areas, but nope, only deaths and threats that affect us will be the priority. We should not worry about the Swine Flu, its the Spine Flu which is deadlier.

Strumming a Guitar

What is your favorite musical instrument? Well, my favorite has kept changing from a Flute to a Harmonica to a Casio keyboard to Drums to (now) a Guitar. The best part is, I don’t know how to play any of them!

So why are they my favorites (not for the girls, no) but for the art involved in playing them. I’ve seen some or the other friend of mine playing them and they got added to my list (of favorites) one by one. Although I’ve not owned any real musical instrument except for the odd Flute from the hawker or a Harmonica that I received for a present, but I think I will be able to play the guitar (chuckle). I love the way guitarists strum away beautiful tunes on them (I can hear the music score from Ek Hasina Thi in the back of my mind)…

I am going to get one in the coming weeks.

I need a Pressure Cooker

Remember the Prestige jingle:
Phenk do yeh kadhaai, degchi, yeh frying pan; Inse nata todo.
Prestige Pressure pan-
Fry kare, Deep fry kare,
Achchi tarah chun chun sikaai kare.
Jhat ubaale, Phat pressure de.
Prestige Pressure Pan.
Jo biwi se karein pyaar, woh Prestige se kaise karein inkaar!

Well, who wouldn't fall for this ad (more so when biwi's measured the extent of husbands love with a Pressure Cooker!) So, my Dad too got a Prestige Pressure Cooker for my Mom. I remember those day's because the new cooker meant over/under-cooked rice and burnt daal until a few weeks; after all its no mean feat cooking in those utensils without real practice (read, training).

There were two other brands of Cooker’s as well, ummm: Hawkins and Marlex. But they couldn't make the same impact then. I think, I'll buy a Prestige.

Little Johnny wants to play

It rained again today. The child within me wanted to go out in the rain and get wet (I love the rain-drops falling on my face), but the adult mind prevailed. As a child, I used to love playing in the rain. Many a time I would walk back home when the school got over and it would be raining; without caring much for the books which got soaked lying in the school-bag. The rest of the afternoon (and the evening) went in getting them to dry under the ceiling fan :).

But that aside, I love the rain because I feel its magical: the vapor from various water bodies collecting in the sky and then pouring down on the earth. Had it not been for this little magic trick, I'm not sure if mankind would have thrived OR for that matter if life could have ever evolved the way it has. Every time it rains (okay, almost every time), I think whether this phenomenon takes place on any other planet (you see, I'm a sci-fi junkie).

...and to think of living without water (there's a 40% cut in water supply in Pune).

My Tobu cycle

When was the last time I rode a cycle? Lets see, ummm... probably in 1997 - after which I moved to Delhi for my higher studies and my younger brothers took it over. But, I'm right now thinking about my first Tobu cycle, a tricycle, bright red colored. Recall its jingle on DD: "Chalo chalein hum, le kar apni, Tobu cycle-ein.....". I remember riding it day long, having my food on it - my hassled mom running around to make me eat. I would never let any of my friends have a ride on it (unless they gave me something in return!). The only other person who accompanied me on it was my younger sister, who would dutifully sit on the back seat and let me paddle...(hold on, was that a trick - to let me paddle the tricycle while she enjoyed the ride? Damn!).

And then one day, the sun and the rain did my tricycle in. The handle-bar broke, now all it could be used for was as my sitting chair. Then, after a lot of haggling and howling, my dad got the handle fixed (read, soldered). The cycle was in use again, but not for long - the handle-bar broke again and this time, fearing rebuke from my father, I left the tricycle alone; in a corner.

When I was in class 6, my Dad got me an Atlas cycle (although I wanted an ATB), but thats another story.

Googling Life

Last week I got my hands on my first 3X3X3 Rubik's Cube. I'd seen it in the hands of one my friend’s in school. It had fascinated me then, what with its bright colors and strange patterns. My friend told me the objective of this game was to arrange the small cubes in such a way that cubes of same color are on any one side (all six sides at once). It was a frustrating experience trying to get it in the original configuration. I could never do it.

Getting back to last week, the experience this time was different though. No, I was not able to solve it this time too...but I searched for a solution on the Information Superhighway and lo-and-behold: Google returned to me the solution and the explanation I was looking for! I had finally been able to learn the logic and had been apply to apply it on my magical cube.

If only Google could provide answers to life's jumble...

My Neighbor gets a TV

Possessing a Television Set back in the 80s brought along neighbors envy, although in my case it was rather curiosity. I'd heard about Television and had seen the Yagi Television Antennas on few Roof tops. Looking at them made me always wonder how could people stare at it to view the pictures (poor me, I didn't know about the CRT then!). So when my neighbor across the road bought a Television (a color TV! oh my God!!), I hopped into their living room to take a look and was offered sweets (in celebration), not to mention that I was also awed by the TV.

If I remember correctly, it was a Sunday and Good Old Doordarshan was telecasting the serial Rajni (Remember the famous woman crusader played by Priya Tendulkar who fought for the rights of the common man?). I was very excited... the TV was controlled by a remote - neat! Since then, I was their regular visitor until my father got us a Sony 21" B/W TV. I'd had to be content with it until I moved out for further studies and bought my own Color TV when I got a Job.

I'm now in Pune on a Project; had to sell off the TV (sigh!)

The Third World

The other day, I was watching a documentary about casteism in India being aired on BBC. It was about how the Indian caste system meant that those in the upper caste wanted those lower in the caste system to remain poor so they could be powerful and how those lower in the chain of caste were trying to emerge out of this trap.

Unfortunately I could only watch the last 15-20 minutes of the documentary where-in it was shown how some of these down-trodden had taken up arms in Bihar; so had some of them in the upper castes to counter these forces. The documentary also featured the changing India, people in the lower caste moving to bigger cities to make a living, where the Caste line was a bit blurred if not erased, their struggle and their way of life.

The documentary was prepared by a team of foreigners, or so it was shown. At the end of the program, when the credits rolled they showed some 'behind the camera' scenes a-la Jackie Chan movie style - and that is what made me sit-up (what? not the documentary?): The Camera panned to show another cameraman who had accidently stepped into ankle deep mud, the kind the Swine love. A local offered a mug of water to him for cleansing, which he accepted with a dhanyavad (thank you). When he did not succeed in cleaning the mud completely with the one mug of water provided, someone from his crew said in the background, "Clean the whole thing, you are not coming with us in the car with that."

This small clip said much more than what the whole documentary would have: that someone would have to get into the mud to get the caste system in India abolished. That someone has to be us - the cameramen.

The city haze

One of the nursery rhymes that I got to learn, as far as I remember the first, went like this:

Twinkle twinkle little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

A legacy from the British rule perhaps, but nonetheless the innocence is endearing. I remember my Mom had me recite this rhyme while she recorded it on one of those Tape Recorders that are extinct now: the one's that used magnetic tapes and created a mess when they got entangled! remember?

The little star is no more there in the sky, it's lost somewhere in the city haze. Gone are the times when you could look up into the clear night sky and spot clusters of bright little stars winking at us. How I wish I could go back to my village where the night is still clear and the modernization is yet to eat up the diamonds. Good ol' days (sigh!)...

The great indian vote trick

The Indian Parliamentary election is over and the political parties are busy in post-poll analysis. I did not vote in this election (yeah, yeah irresponsible citizen crap), but so didn't many others. I remember when I turned 18 and got my Voter Card and the general elections were on. My father told me to go to the polling booth early to avoid the rush before he went to cast his vote. When he came back in the evening, I'd still not gone to vote and he scolded me for not voting. So off I went and voted for the first time - the only time.

So why did I not vote after that? Simple: I'd never been in my home constituency whenever the elections took place. Like so many others, I too had moved out to a better place for my education and then for a Job.

Now, does that make me an irresponsible citizen? Maybe it does, but I can live with it.

I'm grown up now (?)

My earliest childhood memory is when I was about 2-3 years old. I remember playing with my toy, an airplane (duh!), in my neighbours house when I accidently tripped and fell on my chin which started to bleed. My neighbour not knowing what to do, clutched my chin in his shirt and rushed to the nearby hospital. I got stitches on my chin and was discharged immediately.

When I reached home, I looked at myself in the mirror and seeing the white bandage under my chin squeaked, "Look mom, I've grown a beard; I am a sardarji !"

My chin still has the stitch marks and looking at it makes me wonder: would I act as nonchalent now if I got hurt; how would I react? hmmm...