education or experience?

I consider R to be one of my closest mates in Blore. She is a women of substance with immense life experience below her belt and is someone who has consciously stayed away from the main stream and the rat race.

The above statement implies, that she choose to not undertake a structured route of formal education, learning her way in life from experiences and self reading, as skills she is a photographer, an excellent child counseller, an artist, potter and a crochet designer.

As we sat and spoke I was asking myself the question. What is the importance that I as an individual place on Education? As an Indian, I have been doctrined to believe that education maketh the man, degrees secure your future and the having the name of certain institutes on your resume gives you credibility.

Agreed.

If someone was to tell me that they have graduated from an IIM, I would mentally classify the person with a certain level of intelligence and his/her entry barricades to most commercial opportunities would be easier. But casting the “degree” value aside, what did my education provide me?

These are the degrees that I have.

• ·         A graduation in B.Com (Hons) from Jesus and Mary College, DU
• ·         An LL.B from Faculty of Law, DU
• ·         A certification in Yoga, from Sivananda and Bihar School
• ·         MBTI accreditation
• ·         Misc courses in Transaction anaylsis, pranic healing, reiki, some other spiritual courses.

A lot of paper is what the above translates into. In my job today, as a consultant there is no use what so ever of even one of these courses. Yet what the above permits me to do is only ONE thing; lets me gain a semblance of immediate credibility in front of any client that I may be interacting with… But is that enough of a value add given that I spent nearly SEVE N years getting this knowledge? I wonder.

As a teenager, there was no questioning the fact that I would go to college. Amongst the list of givens, that Indian students have a Graduation and a Post Grad are assumed we all shall be doing.  The only choice remains what we choose to graduate in.

Sadly, this too is often not a choice, as much as a cocktail of events ranging from, your marks, the cut offs that the colleges decide, the depth of capitation fee you may be willing to pay, the desperation to secure your future and the commercial viability of the course balanced very lopsidedly against the “passion/desire” to study a particular stream

Result – Often the routes of Higher Education are chosen, not from a sense of ACQUIRING LEARNING, or a pursuit of KNOWLEDGE; but a means to secure a stable future. Perfect, no problem with that at all.

Yet, this attitude somehow ensures that the doctors, or the engineers that come from these colleges, are not driven to really pursue their fields. Recently, governmental medical colleges have made it mandatory for each doctor to spend 2 years in rural projects or pay Rs 2,00,000 and escape, guess what route is being chosen?

What is the point of this blog post? A reflection more than anything else for me to list down what I have got from my education.

- ---     in the Indian context an easier route to establishing credibility

----      7 years of SCREENING- Under the guise of “I am a student” both as a graduate and a law student, I got years to explore and dabble in several activities that today defines me in some manner. It permitted me to read Freud, or to try and understand Keats, to smuggle into the Economics class and appreciate something about Keynes points of view, to enter training and from the tit-bit conversations of people around me expand my threshold of curiousity

But then a nagging question worries me, would I have not sought this out for myself even if I was not in college? I have left formal education 5 years back, 3 of the degrees mentioned above were self acquired for no reason but the desire to do them.

In which case? What is this craze for education/degree gathering about? From my circle of successful  friends and family,  it would be immensely difficult for me to cherry pick even 2 people whose work is linked to the education that they did.

But here is the tricky part, despite intellectually appreciating the above. Would I as a HR manager, hire someone with the correct attitude, maybe even relevant experience but with no graduation certification. Even if I did, would the organization I was hiring for (i) agree to keep him on the rolls and (ii) permit him/her to rise to the highest level within the business.

Maybe not.

But maybe it would be good to survey and see how many of the Ambanis, the Gates, the Bransons, or the Jobs are “educated” in the limited term of being degree holders or how many of them are truly “experienced” in terms of making the world go as per their demands.

Between a well certified college ivy league professional and a person with the most diverse stories of life experiences that are shared in a calm voice by a hastily lit bonfire, I hope I have the wisdom to consistently choose to live with the latter.

little things

When you are with someone one the sweetest moments are the ones with the longest lingering power. Was eating lunch with S yesterday and she was narrating an incident where her financee, got drunk in Honk Kong, came up to where she was dancing with her work colleagues, put his arms in the air, and then proceed to do a tribal dance punjabi version around her yelling "bebe, bebe... ooh bebe.... bebe... ooh bebe... bebe... ooh bebe.. bebe ooh bebe..." 

He then proceeded to do the egyptian dance on the floor and circled another friend, before heading out with his lady love on a walk and falling face first into a Mac Donald guy on the road. As she narrated this incident, we all could not stop laughing our lungs out.. because it was hilarious to hear her complete with actions and the rest of it ... ;-)


made me think that as much as she is turning up her little sweet nose and stating all the nonsense the man is upto it is these small incidents that make u love the person more.. the little things are what maketh the relationship. holding hands while watching a movie, in a room crowded with people known and unknown being able to meet that one person for 2 minutes, and then running back to doing whatever u were upto, being able to call someone for no reason, sharing the silliest dream that made u stare at the ceiling in the night, wrapping yourself in the intimacy of everyday is what the warmth is about...


love is not always the mills and boon kinds
it in the tiniest moments, that you find it


Saw my boss's facebook pictures. He and his wife celebrated 25 years of a married life. The sweetest ceremony ever. They got dressed in simple cotton saree and lungi respectively, light a ceremonial lamp, re took their wedding vows as they circled the lamp in reminder of the wedding they had 25 years ago, surrounded by family and friends. 


Drinks, dinner some photos and simplicity and warm oozed from the hugs, the looks and the smiles. made me smile watching that. the togetherness visible in every gesture. 


content , me

the funnest game

There are never enough drinking games that one can know. The old world games of truth and dare, strip poker, pscycho, or the one where u have to drink the beer fastest have become lame and not that much fun anymore. 

So it was super refreshing to play 2 brand new games, ok one brand new game and one a refined version of UNO


This is the game. Dont judge before you read the whole thing, is way more fun that way.


Step 1-  Everyone sits in a circle and has a sheet of paper. On the sheet of paper u write one sentence, ANYTHING is ok! and pass it on to the person on the right.. For example the sentences were as varied as - to be or not to be, she hit it with the music, Santa clause will be hit if he gets a bloq job, Lucy got slapped by a monkey... get the drift?


Step 2-- The person has to draw out the sentence that has been written out.  And before passing it to the person on the right has to fold the sentence that was written inititally. So the person now only has the drawing to see...
Example-  Instead of Leena got slapped by a money, he only gets to see some scribble of girl and creature. 

Person writes what he think he sees... Hooker is getting strip searched 
He folds the earlier drawing, now only the sentence is visible and that is passed on further. 


Step 3- The person now draws his interpretation of the sentence.. and so on it carries on..

Once the paper is filled up for everyone, you open the sheet and look at it all. and thats when the laugh riot begins, its hilarious ;-) must try it to see that mad lines and drawings that come up.. wont spoil it by telling all..

Have not laughed till i cried for a while, and yesterday was one such day! 

Snippet time again

Have not written a proper heartfelt entry in a while. Have not got the clear will to write one here right now either, so instead are some snatches of randomness that has been my life and brain for the past few days...

Reading is the next best thing to travelling, if one thing can open your mind it has to be a book that can be well thumbed and read through to reveal the deeper parts of countries, places and people that you have no connection to.. 3 books that I am reading is doing just this for me right now..

First comes - Muesem of Innocence, Omar Pamuk, an effortless narrative from the eyes of a Turkish man, his illicit affair but more than the story is the peek into understanding some of the cultural customs that define the place, the unwritten social norms that are graze u as a tourist but never impact u unless u live it..

Catcher in the Rye- Reread it and after you do you wonder what makes this book so easy to understand, insanely addictive and realitvely ageless? Is it because we all have similar internal rants where everything we do seems utterly meaningless and yet we carry on. or is the listless angst that he seems to be surrounded with the attraction for us all.  

Kundalini Tantra-  A book on spiritual biophysics, if such a term can even be coined that without once preaching into the occult or divine is simply de mystefying simple factual truths about our systems and the latent power of it. Very tough job to keep this simple writing and not get lost into meanderings 

The week has been a roller coaster of the kind that defines life. 

The carpet was ripped from below me on Tuesday, semi replaced on Wednesday and got padding on Thursday. if one thing all this teaches me is something my brother said, roll with the punches

The wedding is drawing closer, know that when i do see my brother getting married, am going to be one of the first few to break down and get all emotional maybe even beating mom to it. its just what weddings do to me, the simple innocent promise of a future the promised land is just to heartrendingly pure that for that moment all you can do it somehow want to close and hold that moment........ love weddings, hate them too

Housefull- saw it and wondered y i did that to myself

and questioned where and what i was doing with my life. In this constant turmoil and chaos, I did one thing right i seem to have returned to spending time with myself and mentally slowing down. Calm is what i am about everything for the now, till the next set of frenzied action commences. 

is true

Wherever you are, is just fine… You can get to wherever you want to be from wherever you are… It's time to stop measuring where you are in relationship to where anybody else is, the only factor that has anything to do with you, is where you are in relationship with where you want to be.

spinning around

Yesterday was one of the days that u hate, just when you have set yourself in 5th gear and are cruising along, up comes a breaker that you never saw. The gear box goes kaput and the next destination that you imagined a wishful dream land away...

Went through the usual rounds of oh no not again, why me, this sucks, now what, where am i headed and why etc etc etc, the circle of internal dialogue's coupled with chewing some peoples head endlessly resulted in some clarity and some wisdom.

It made me do one thing new, open my eyes to being a corporate person again, not be that closed that shuttered about this choice. There are 2 ways to live life

A.  You make your dreams and conditions and do all that it takes to make them, work. You plan, strategize, make 5 year goals and work towards making them come true. Its a good way, not the worst way at all, but then everything gets all boxed down and set. Maybe that is the reason i never really, liked the corporate life for the structure it gets though i can see the value of it

B. the other way is the one of going with the flow, the one where you have a plan a hazy idea of the reason u are doing what u are doing, that it is the stepping stone to the next move, but u are open to looking at step 2 and step 3 as well, where basically though there is a basic structure there is a free flow to discovering the new

Am stuck between the two. Think the time has come to make the move to not be that fluid or to give fluidity structure. Tried to make a comprehensive plan for 5 years from now, but ended up tying myself in knots.

Prefer the jugglers trick of the two.. all this spinning around in circles over and over again. Make a call, stop free lancing, get a proper job, make a nest egg, doing anything and then move up the ladder, but you want to be abroad, hmmm so lets see how to get that to happen, but then you cant leave for 2/3 years, but then i want to be a mother in that time.. the world of what if's were back to haunt me.. and so in calmness i remembered my favourite Sunscreen Song

When nothing makes sense, you must be doing something right

The lyrics to Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen, by Mary Schmich:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

frustation

Its one of those days where the Indian ness of India can sap all sense of energy out of you. Its summer, the longest one ever it so seems. The one thing about Blore which was great was the weather and that has gone. Vanished under the merciless sun.

Its become the Delhi I left because I handle heat very badly. Countless summers in Delhi, where your life revolved around pumping water into the tanks, the availabilty of ground water, the relentless heat, complete frustration on the roads, snappy tempers and the forced retreat to being indoors because the heat made it impossible for anything else to happen.....

Blore sadly is going down the same route. The roads are chocked, there is no space for anyone, the cows still wander here and there, the multidude of bikes adds to the chaos, Cauvery water decline has lead to power shortages where everyone is spending more on diesel and invertors than electricity bills, the heat has become intense and the passive nature of the southern lot is going through an enormous change in dealing with these.

To add to it, the BJP governance means that unlike a Delhi or a Mumbai, where at least one has the option of escaping the heat in the evening by getting out, taking a walk being free to eat a late meal the city clamps itself down at 11 pm. There is nothing that you can get after that, almost no food, coke, a drink or even bandaid is a hunt that is concluded at the local hospital.

Often this results in the days work getting pushed to the evening, unless you are lucky to get the power back up to last. Being a cool city in the earlier days, also means that the gadgets to kill heat available across the north are non existent. There are no coolers, mango juices, Rooafsas, the lassis and cucumbers. Instead hot coffee and if you are lucky a few juices do the needful

There is a still a reluctance to use AC's and there is only a hapless reminiscence of  ":Oooh Blore never used to be like this" without any corresponding ability to get up and do something about the changes that are here now. not in some future date place or time..........


So deep is the denial, that people still carry a jacket because earlier the evenings had a tendency to get chilly.


Wake up. The city became rich, IT happened, the influx of people happened.. and u made lots of money.. but guess what.. u lost the city to that migration.... neither good nor bad., it is, time to get moving though. Delhi did it, its possible!

a whole new world

As you sit on the bike and move in the city, you have grudgingly begun to call home the city comes alive in entirely different ways.

The world from the safety of the car, with the Ac on, the soft music and the 4 wheels has a very different feel. On the bike, you are plugged in like a drill machine with no escape from anything that is happening around you.

Bullet Blondie - is a whole new world!!!!

For starters, this world has its own vocabulary, language that goes Boom.. vroom, puttt puuttter, talks about handle bars and the feel of the machine... Each bike is always a girl that has to be taken for a ride, and the love for these beasts more than that for any human species.

The bikers form their own clique on the road . There is a distinct hierarchy that exists which as a car person is news to me. The Yamaha 100 cc is the undisputed king; as its light weight and power permits it to zoom through the teeny tiny allies without an issue. Almost like the Grasshopper in Kungu Fu panda.

The bike ppl speak in action code. A side glance means a race is on, the red lights are to be used only to stare and gaze at the other, and when u need to move in separate ways a tiny wave and a tilt of the head is token enough for the last race that took place..

Its the one AREA where MECHANICS are DEMI GODS! they can rip your machine down, add subtract multiply and divide till the original and the morphed version resemble the Caterpillar and the buttlerfly.. Mechanics are masters in disguise, knowing more about physics than any of the engineers who approach them with folded hands...

Its freedom in a way that cant be mastered in any other form.. As a pillion you can sense it and maybe borrow some of flavor, hope that drops on you but u really cannot claim any of it.. the thrill remains that of the person behind the wheel astride the machine navigating it with flicks of the wrists.. effortlessly easy, impossibly tough ;-)

As a group they are very open, indulging you by opening up and engaging in conversation.. letting you play with the bikes secure in the knowledge that you are a guest a flirtation till you are capable of taming the beast.

but show one move to want to get there, and the solidarity is there for all to see, they wait for u worry about you and always stop when you fall. Get you up and get you moving.

And the best part, is that often you have no idea who the other person is , except he is the man with the bullet.
and so he/she simply belongs

I sat on the weekend. sightseeing my house withe new eyes. Speed breakers got new respect, and mechanics were bowed to. Bullet clubs were gate crashed by me as the sole woman entrant, and they simply smiled.. the cops laughed at enormous fuel tanks and the boy toy sensibilities took over anger and duty. As a women, and a car person, it was like looking into a new world through a key hole. almost understanding mostly just looking at it with "aahh boys eyes"

Till i saw R the she women, do her stuff on her own bullet, and the eyes have a new gleam. its called.. Ahh i want to be one of the boys. Bike Lessons! 2010 this is the mission we claim....

Hehehee.. dont think Dad shall want to be reading this post!

aur phir

I am an indian. Well that is not news to anyone. But as i spend more and more time with people who are not from here but based here, i can see some of the little indian traits that are original to me that appear and dont seem to vanish ever. 

These traits surprise even me. they come in the middle of a conversation and i sit there stumped wondering where this sudden nationalistic spirit has come, given that i am not a jingonistic mera bharat super mahan person. As in i love my country, but am not blinded into seeing only the positives of it.. 

some things that seem embedded to my india dna spirit are:

• i cant eat with fork and knives and feel like i have eaten, a good meal remains piping hot dal, some veggies and all mashed up with heaps of the chutneys and bhujiya thrown in for good measure. i can appreciate a great salad and a super pasta, but they remain "novelty meals" the khanna has to be the freshly made hot off the pan food that is quintessentially recognizable for the oily mess it is..
• Cannot understand the ostentatious obsession with mineral water and the need to wash everything with it, bacteria, fungus, cockroaches and mosquitos are all house hold pets and sort of live with you
• an inherit shyness in displaying affection in public. somewhere there its deeply rooted, holding hands is fine, hugging is fine, kissing on the cheeks, boderline, more than that.. hmm daring but aaaahh aaaaaah makes me go red .........
• obsession with a tomorrow. ok maybe this is not an indian thing as much as a female thing,. the  need to know where from here it goes
• reverence for knowing cooking for everyone, everything must be done in a group and i must include everyone in everything. its critical else feels wrong
• deep attachment to bollywood
• unbreakable bond to defend the nation even when the attack is justified
• finding reasons to justify almost any notion about the nation from suicides to the reason we need to yell across the coffee shop
• Feeling shackles rise when factually true comments about lack of good cheese etc are made. It is true, but even then i feel defensive and have no idea y!

Shobha De once said, you can go anywhere you may choose in the world but the fact that you are Indian is a stamp that you carry with you no matter where you go. There is a undefinable stamp of it that remains no matter where you choose to transport yourself.

its in our accents, in how we define a relationship, in the expectations we have from a spouse, the diya we may want to light in the morning, our immense patience in the hospital to see a doctor and firecracker anger at the red light that makes us honk, in the way we sometimes chat up with the person standing next to us eating chaat, or bite our fingers as we try to figure out what to do with this fancy Pesto bottle we picked up. 

From quoting some Vivekanda when it suits us, while wearing the latest London imported perfume sprinkled on the wrist, how we can ignore the beggar at the car door and not feel remorse and yet feel outraged when we see a man beating another. Its a mystery, a dilema and the things we take for granted are mindboggling the things we seem to accept without a hitch amusing, and yet in all this there is a little gentle soul only wanting to know u a little better, just so he can share his life tale with u... no matter if u dont want to know. 

the last mile

Am sitting with a coffee, wearing an oversized shirt, eating the first mango of the season as the song Fireflies plays in the background. Warm coffee strains are in the air, there is a mix of work and pleasure that the day promises and in all this is little me sitting and admiring the turns that the world seems to be taking.

Played housewife yesterday, gathering together the rambling mess of the house and the world to consolidate. Am in a tizzy these days cant figure out half the time what to do. Simple things are confusing. So should i buy a dining table for the house and invest in making it pretty, or should i not bother because there may be no need soon.. Should i slap myself for thinking these far fetched thoughts or should I let myself be a girl and make a castle.

There is a foolishness virus that seems to have gotten hold of me. All sense of sense has flown out of the window replaced with a frivolousness........... while paying all my bills yesterday and the diminishing bank balance did little to prevent me from blowing up a whole lot on shopping, net result if my landlord presents a cheque now it shall bounce. The things that i end up doing!

Yesterday closed with meeting GR after ages, he seemed relaxed and happy as we had a coffee. There is something warm about building relationships and being in a city where the vendors begin recognizing you after a time, the ciggie fellow sees you and engages in a conversation, the toaster person willingly breaks a 500 for you, the puckha guy knows automatically that i need that exact level of spice u need.

The sequence of pot holes are familiar to you, and the maid can leave 10 cocunuts in your house. Have to admit that I have become fossilized in Bangalore. There is more that I do know than not know about this city, and more than that there is comfort here...........

Blore is home now. Delhi my "native"
wonder when that happened

Rejuvinated

Its time to get it moving on. After nearly a month of stitches, and movement restrictions I am feeling healthy, wealthy and able to move around.. Exercise I love you.

A normally routine hater, I see the wisdom in having a routine, and some things that you plug into on a daily basis. That is when you manage to take out time for fitness, for meditation and the gym, I get to return to the gym today and feel the rush of enthusiasm in my body. Feel the pleasure of the muscles as they get into action. The gym membership got delayed for 4 weeks and supplemented by lots of unhealthy lifestyle options.

As I am writing this my maid is standing on my head and telling me tales of how the guard and she have been fighting, how the guards have started called her Kala Motti, Black Fat, that makes no sense and she has slapped him with her slippers, have no clue what and why they are fighting but they are and seems she wants me to take sides in the dispute. I am trying level best to be neutral and not really concerned one way or the other.....


The one kind of people u have to envy are the ones with the high metabolic rate that just seem to get fit in seconds, grr grr. Feels good to wake up at home, clean the place, get into some sort of structure with the day and start getting pieces back that have been lying scattered all over the place for a long time.

To getting the Black berry activated and operational today.

love
neha

Paused

Today has been a pause day. The body is asking me to stop and pause and not move at all. Since the morning its been one of the incapable of anything but deep sleep and despite 3 hours of sleep can fall back into bed again.

Have come home after 4 days and it feels like something is missing when i am here.
When i am there, the house there seems to be as much home as not
must have been a gyspy before, to be able to slip in to others spaces without much trouble

Met someone very interesting yesterday, this guy spends Rs1000 daily feeding 30 dogs with Chicken Biryani, every evening, He sends his boy to get the stuff packed and each dog on the road knows the time he shall come and start queing up.

Each gets one packet, the rice is devoured and life resumes itself.
such selfless giving is incredible. and happens on street corners without us even being aware
there is much to learn if we only keep your eyes open to all that is taking place

Feel the need to get myself a pet. A dog, but cant till there is some semblance of routine that life becomes used to
Feel the need to retrun to the gym, can and shall when the body permits me too

Yesterday, after ages there was a feeling of relaxation of just smiling and knowing that it is all allright seeping into my bones. Simmering tension of several months began seeping out and was replaced by a its ok, life is fine kinda feeling.

The shoulders is where the tensions stays. always hunched up and tensed
someone told me to just let go and be, not hold on too tight to the what ifs
there is not much we can do to control it in any case
learning the lessons slowly
hoping i dont have a fever
for today its a slllooow day

story time - bon Appetite

Bon Appetite

Pen in mid air, she was discussing the merits of the new classification of the hair oil that there were to launch in a week, when the Blackberry rang. Annoyed she looked at the screen.  Darsh calling. Her mute phone vibrated on the table as her juniors discreetly began to peer into their laptops, knowing by her look that this was not going to go well.

Sighing, she excused herself, as she got out of the chair with the vibrating instrument clutched tightly in her hand. Knuckles white with the intensity of the grip, she could feel the blood rushing to her face.  45 seconds is all it had taken. 45 seconds for her focus and clarity to be replaced with rage and uncontrollable irritation.

Even as she hit the green button on the phone, she knew she was going to sound snappish, hassled and nowhere close to the warm person her colleagues and friends knew her as.  True to her word, she didn’t even bother saying “hey” jumping straight to a fatigued “ya” instead.

And Prince charming did not disappoint

Where is the rice? You know it’s the weekend and there is no rice, I have just woken up and am so hungry and there is nothing to eat. What yaar, how can you not have organized something this simple before heading off to the meeting. Pathetic, even the basics are a struggle around you, the person running the house cant even get that much done, what all am I to do, all you care about is work, and that silly hair oil that no one shall buy….….

She did only one thing.  Took the phone in her hand, stared at it, put it on the loudspeaker, took it to the empty meeting room, left it on the table put the do not disturb sign on the door and walked off.  Seeing Flori at the printer she asked her, to hover around the phone and say hmmmm, for fun whenever she felt like it, disconnect the call in exactly 21 minutes and get her back the phone. 

Its ok, Flori was her personal assistant, and they were the gatekeepers of each other’s dirty secrets.

A wicked smile played on her lips. She imagined him raving and ranting. Knew that he could drone on for a long time, at least a quarter of an hour, and that’s when he wanted the apologies to flow. Usually after that it was her que to mouth…Honey I am so sorry, this shall never happen again, or at the very least an emotional atyachar conversation of what this meant for them, where they were, blah blah blah.

She was grinning now. Imagining his voice rising, his frustration making him break the vase on the table as to each shrieked accusation he got a constant “hmmmmm” from Flori. Hahaha, suddenly the day looked interesting as she imagined the hearty laugh Flori and she would have at TGIF over happy hours this evening.

She went back to the meeting, distractedly downloaded instructions to the juniors, her earlier concentration all but forgotten. Grudgingly she mentally acknowledged that she had just ruined their weekend but scoffed at the meek acceptance with which they hurried to assure her that it was not a problem, and they were more than inspired to get this done, the learning would be immense, this is soooo interesting … yada yada yada .

Sheep! New generation sheep is what they were and sheep were reared for delicious evening meals. That is exactly what she was doing to them. ..

She smiled. Thanking them profusely. Told them they were her favorites. Gagged as she saw 1000 watts bulbs go off in their eyes.  The presentation would now be PERFECT!. And for a cruel twitch, informed them that she would be non-contactable the remainder of the weekend.

BITCH. She saw a mental image of Merly Streep from Devil Wears Prada flash in her mind and secretly kicked herself for being suuuuuuuuuuuuuch a good replica! Well Done Girlie.  

She was no push over, no doormat, she was a cold calculating careerholic. Serious Ladder Climber.

As the sheep scurried out of her room, she sat and fiddled with her mouse pad. It was futile, her mind was too scattered to get anything constructive done.  Drawing the menthol ciggie from her bag, she took the lighter and headed for the stair case, half hoping that Shri would be sitting there holding forth over the Sheep Kingdom he seemed to inspire instantaneous fan following for, and half hoping she would be permitted to smoke in peace.

Ah well, beggars can’t be choosers. This job made sworn anti smoking, cancer activists develop chimneys in their chest.  She sniggered as she remembered the first time Flori, had borrowed a cigarette from her.  Poor Flori, the innocent doe eyed creature had become the snarling PMSing Pomeranian in 2 months flat. Well, good for her, atleast she no longer was the targeted personal assistant for the remaining male partners to “accidently” collide into(read as press into her anyhow) at corridors.

Whoa, this is strange. Shri ALONE? Hmm how come?

Hey there, whats up? the sheep-dom decided to abandon the lord and master? She asked.

Oh shut up already he growled.

 Huh? This was unusual, Shri upset? Plonking herself next to him, she silently lit her cigarette and let the smoke uncoil her insides. Smoky silence smoothened both their jangled nerves as she gently nudged him with her elbow.

Kya hua? Itna gussa?

Shri distractedly flung the still lit stub, watching it burn itself to death. He looked at her interlacing his fingers with his and simply said.

Patta Nahin. Don’t know but something is amiss. No its not Prickface partner, this time nor the moaning cow wife, there is something far deeper that is amiss.

Hmm, she said. Not probing further. As much as she liked Shri, today her head was clogged already with everything and she did not have the space for this. Feeling guilty for not being warmer, she pinched herself and said

Oye, drinks 7 pm TGIF? Game?

Ya, whatever when all else fails might as well let the poison prevail……….

All right then, laters.

She dusted her pants, and moved back to the air-conditioned morgue of an office. Sat down and saw the BB sitting innocently on her desk. 5 sms’s it dutifully informed her.

SMS 1-  Darsh

SMS 2-  Darsh

SMS 3-  Darsh

SMS 4-  Airtel

SMS 5-  Darsh.

SMS 1 - Delete unopened

SMS 2-  Delete unopened

SMS 3-  Opened. ………… 1 line- “I regret the day our paths collided” --- Delete

SMS 4-    Airtel- opened and read twice. The only non manipulative sms she would probably get all day

SMS 5-    ……………. Open/delete? She pondered, hesitating. Knowing the tears were moments away.  Oh well, he did send this last and after a time gap, maybe he was apologizing. ……. OPEN. ……. “Don’t expect me to be home waiting for you to return. I am not your wife AND unlike some people I know my place”

She flung the phone across the table and fell back in her chair. Bizzare how the world simply carried on as hers insisted on dissolving like the biggest iceberg placed in Africa.  LORD. She was exhausted, tired and needed the luxury to breathe

You have MAIL, the laptop screeched. Ting ting a ting, the BB beeped, the SMS beep following soon after. Arrrrgghhh.

Slamming down the laptop, she switched off her phone, picked up her bags and marched out. Told the receptionist to ask Flori to call her in an hour and to tell everyone else she had left for the day. Entered the lift, sunglasses on, car keys out, she wasted no time on niceties before zooming out of the parking lot.

Fuck this shit, she was not going to let that idiotic man ruin her afternoon. As the female divas crooned in her car, she sang along blasting the men to the dregs of the orbiting satellites of Jupiter.

Much calmer, she switched on her BlackBerry and called Shri.

Hey… listen I am having a fucking rotten day, and the cold chamber was not helping. I just left 15 min back, wanna join me sing the woes away? Been ages since we drank the afternoon off for no good reason

Fuck. You are my angel. Am leaving to, think Prickface has gone to kiss some political ass at the Taj, so as long as we avoid that area am cool. Where do I meet you?

TGIF it was, 4 pm both sat looking at each other through the tallest LIT’s. They knew the rule no serious conversation allowed till drink 1 and drink 2 had been downed.  Slurping the last of the ultimate LIT she sat back, feeling the buzz proceed on its journey from her toes to her insides.

Shri was still all morbid, gloomily staring into his drink with such intensity that she could not help herself but burst out into peals of laughter. Holding the table to keep herself from falling off, she laughed and laughed and Shri’s increasing perplexed look only made her laugh more.

Sooorrry,  sorry, I don’t know why I am laughing, its not you, I am not being insensitive, but hahahaaa, look at us, sad assed progressive 30’s year olds with nothing better to do than drink the tragedies of our lives, We are such losers..

Her laughter and sincerity behind it was so contagious that even Shri loosened up and began smiling.

Ya man, since when did we become the ‘oh my life is so serious’ kinda people. That was supposed to be the old farting pot bellied uncle driving his Maruti, at 35km/hour while we the whiz kids were supposed to zoom by on our high flying speed machines, with delicious artifacts of yummy people strewn in the back seat.

And just look at us now, zooming at 20 from the office cubicle to the mess we call home. .. Pathetic.

To Loosers! They hooted as the next round of drinks arrived at the table, large glasses promising happiness at the end of the straw.

Buzzing contentment, she grabbed her drink, managing to spill half on her shirt. The sticky liquid drenched her shirt, as she half attempted to rescue the mess on her chest. Abandoning the futile effort to clean up, she tossed aside the tissue focusing on slurping down bliss instead.

Shri leaned over, shifting the drinks carefully away. Across the table towards her, he towered over her. Getting closer...

Surprised she looked at him closing in, his arm reaching out towards her. She looked into his eyes, he giving her an amused look, and she smiled.  Her lazy hand of its own motion let its fingers caress his cheek, an impish look trailing her smile.

Shri just smiled at her, as her threw the piece of tissue on her face.

Oh! Tissue.. aaah ….oh .. fuck

Embarrassed to the core, What had she been thinking? GAWD,  she quickly tried to change the mood.

So guess, what my darling Prince Charming’s romantic touch for the day was?

Shri, sat there braced for the onslaught that was to begin. Knowing that behind the twisted story, which would be narrated with some wit and humour there lay a lot of unconcealed pain. He watched her animated face as she gesticulated some hap hazard details about Rice or Food and House.. some crap. The details escaped him, all he knew was that this women was in pain.

A swan. That’s it. He had been trying to fathom what it is that she reminded him of. Traces of the ugly duckling the story he had as a kid came back to him. Something about the duck, not fitting in because she was actually a swan, and then flying off to meet the other swans… a vivid picture of a bird soaring high was all he could remember from his nursery rhyme book, a vivid blue sky and an elated bird.

He smiled, maybe her life ended up that way. But for now she was defiantly role playing as the ugly duck. Picturing her as a quacking duck made him smile.  The aloof cold calculating bitch of a swan she was at work, unapproachable by almost everyone. One ciggie at the staircase and the swan became the nervous insecure girl trying to hold it all together and remain true to herself in a world where only few choices seemed to be hers alone. As for that moron she called a hubbyy…. hahaa

OUCH, STOP THAT! He shrieked as he realized she was literally biting his finger giving him smoldering looks

I am telling you about the absolutefuckingloutely assholic husband of mine and you are laughing? What the fuck is so funny Mr. I have my life all sorted with my cow wife person you?

Uff nothing baba. Just thinking of something. Anyway, so let me get this straight your man has left the house for a rice craving? May be we should buy him a one way ticket to Vietnam, he can get all the rice he wants all the time.

Hahaaa they both went off into one more round. The idea of baboon Darsh, wearing a Vietnamese hat sitting in the middle of a rice paddy field surrounded by the lithe girls all shoving rice in his face was just too much, LIT spluttering from her nose, she imagined him gone.

Saucer Eyed she looked at Shri, almost jumping from her chair. She squealed gibberish with super enthusiasm… bouncing on her chair.

Shriiii…..I am going to leave him. I mean technically he is the one that’s gone.. but I mean for like good he can be gone. Like actually be made to sit in Vietnam eating rice… hahahaa! Wow I can make him Gooo..this is uber cool

What? What the hell are u talking about? What about the marriage, kids, commitment, he is not that bad nonsense you keep muttering about?

Leaping with new fire, she crawled across to his side of the table. Snuggling into the couch, she leaned into his ear and drunk whispered, I know, all that is fine, but Shri, you know he is really a STUPID MAN, like dumb. Cant be with dumb people Shri, they are like donkeys. I am not a donkey, he makes me go numb. I am going to call my travel agent and send him to Vietnam

Shri laughed at her innocent confession. Patted her very drunk head and drew her in with his arm. She snuggled next to him and sleepily drank from her massive glass. By now he could not even remember why he had been sulking, just knew that it was a huge thing that had been bothering him.

Buzzed, warm and amused he tried in vain to restrict her from ordering the next round of drinks. Bulldozed into submission he held her as she drank like a little child drinking her rationed 1 coke a week.

I KNOW! THIS IS WHAT WE SHOULD DO……She leaped from his arms standing straight up, eyes shining, barefoot and gleaming with a brainwave that he knew smelled of DISASTER

Shri, Shri… this is it. Rice that bastard wanted and Rice is what we are going to give him . Please please do this with me….,

Do what? He said very slowly.. this was bad, once before she had gone on revenge mode and man it was mean blood letting

Bending over the table, her pretty ass making for a delicious frame in the corner of his mind she explained her very devious plan.

Laughing inspite himself, he watched her charm the TGIF manager into agreeing to her strange request. As she returned to the table her anticipation was palpable. A tigress waiting to be unleashed.

In 10 minutes 5 waiters came armed with huge takeaway bags. They were so heavy that they needed help to take them to the car. His eyes bulged as he saw the bill. Rs 15000.. where what? They had bought 5000 rupees worth of RICE???

She insisted on swiping Darsh’s add on credit card to clear the bill and half skipped and hopped out of the door. She paused at the door, clanging the TGIF horn madly, giggling at her own madness. He helped miss drunk on high heels into his car, tipping the amused waiters as they placed the bags in the car.

Drunk instructions got them to her place. Thankfully Babboon man’s car was missing, the guard saluted her as she ordered them to get the bags to the house.

They entered the house, she flung her shoes headed to the bar, poured them both stiff drinks, before proceeding to head to the bathroom. Emerging in her shortest shorts, she ripped apart bag one and holding it before him.. waited for him to begin

Shri cocked his eyebrows ..  aah what exactly is the plan your highness?

She did not answer, she did. Took a fistful of the cooked steamed rice and threw it to the ceiling letting it fall all over the beige spotless carpet. DESTROY ….. LETS GIVE THE MAN RICE.

Freaking madness is what the next hour was all about. Dancing to wild music, slugging down the vodka Shri assisted the highness in destroying every inch of the apartment, she had called home till this morning.

Rice was everywhere, starting with his shirt pockets, squashed on his Gucci suit, lining his underwear, carefully worked into his laptop, inside his dvds, in his dvd player, sticky rice coating the pillows, the floor the rugs, the chargers, the remote was left drenched in milk, rice lined the bathroom, one kilo was emptied into the flush, the couch was coated, sleek lamps decorated with rice balls, his playstation and Gautier furniture ruined with her barefoot tribal dance done to smash the rice on which some residue wine was added to get that hint of colour…

The house was destroyed, every corner and inch ripped, trodden and dismantled. Rice; the apartment reeked of it. Looking like a cloud had gifted it with a very special snow storm. In the middle of all this stood the duck swan, in her shorts standing there with the last lump of rice, staring at her wedding picture on the living room wall.

She gingerly walked up to the frame, stood before it stared into it.

Took a handful of rice and made it into goo with her fingers

Delicately almost piously, she smeared his face with rice

With immense concentration, she then coated her bridal picture, covering the entire frame, till nothing but a white mess was left.

She stood staring at that for a while. Turned around and looked at him. Smiled.

Walked to him and hugged him tight, reached up to his ears and whispered

Lets go

As they descended the building, she reached for her BB and sent one text

Dear Darsh……… Bon Appetite

Orbiting

Am sitting at Royal Orchid, in the middle of an highway where a bunch of 16 different corporate are dutifully listening in and pretending to care about a session on innovation and getting themselves shaken up enough to want to make a big leap for the company and get to where they have not been able to reach before

I sit here with three hours of sleep in me, the reason being that I was up till 4 am recording the various cribs, suggestions, grouses, histories that the people have vented over the last four days, to the consultants that we are.  We were not having any rocket science conversations, merely simple so what do you think? What are the issues that you are grappling with etc etc.

16 odd people. 16 hours of conversation and a great window to see how little organizations manage to talk to each other. I hate the term organization; the term immediately seems to transfer the responsibility of anything that is occurring to a third party entity and lets each individual sit back and twiddle his thumbs while some one higher up is supposed to take care of it

Its fascinating. This current group for example represents a small company that has grown to a respectable 200 odd people. Have made decent forays into some international markets, have an Indian presence going and well in one sense the founders have every reason to feel a sense of pride. But as a 28 year old, I unfortunately still tend to judge organizations from the culture that they seek to inculcate. The current one leaves me shuddering

First of all people refer to the other as SIR, the constant game of getting into the good books is a more twisted than twister, there are huge undercurrents and yet what is surfaces are always polite statements, of how everyone says “we should do this” “we should do that:” yada yada yada……. For example the line just quoted, its just a matter of taking this to the next level! What does that even mean.

I have accepted this, maybe too soon in life, that I am simply not interested in making it big in the corporate rat race. Irrespective of industry I don’t desire the window cubicle, the kingfisher silver card, the beeping beep of the blackberry to indicate that the presentation is to be made ready at 3am on Saturday.

Ironically, this is exactly what I am doing. The black berry comes today. Was working till 3 am today. Am here for a corporate workshop today. But there is one HUGE differential. The fact that I am here on my own terms, the people I work with are approachable, friends and there is a co creation minus any visible and/or invisible silos.

The freedom to choose…….. that is what it boils down for me. I still retain that one call to say thank you but no thank you, I would not be able to do this now. I will be able to do this and in this try to do this also. The ability to dress in clothes that define me, to learn and expand understanding and be trusted with everything and not one thing…….. the work may still be corporate, but its the chance to do that without being and behaving in any limiting life style is what makes me work without a grouse.

I respect corporate for what they add to the world. I don’t for the standardization, they need to get that value add on. Its possible to add value while orbiting that world and think I am glad to remain a mere satellite. 

Blonde episode 3

Hahahahaaha this one is just stupid and yet typical me.
think the cops and me have some unfinished karmic business left to do.

So here is how Saturday night was spent. A relaxed morning with listening to musings of the heart broken kind, we decided to head for a hearty English breakfast in the middle of Bangalore. Cafe Ants, the only place that lets you eat, with your legs tucked securely below you, as you muse over the newspaper and catch up on the latest political upswings

3 gay ever so happy men sat beside us, laughing as they snatched each others cell phones and set dirty horny messages to ex lovers, one could not but hoot with laughter at the desperate swings being made by the victim to retrieve the instruments again.. Burping in contentment, the day looked lazily promising as we wondered what next lay on the agenda

Well. moments like these can only be filled with SHOPPING !!! So off we went, to walk the by lanes looking for socks and nose pins, some cushions, movies and inanities that make life worth living. 2 fresh lime sodas and minty cools down to beat the sun at her games the only thing that made sense was couch potatoing.

Freedom Writers, choosen as the entertainment of the day as we slouched incapable of movement. Rain gods came and went, Vayu decided to do her act to persuade us to move and not wanting to let her down we did. Moved that is.

So decided to walk by the lake. Its gorgeous these little Blore lakes, where the reflection of the surrounding areas mirror the city as you take in the trees with the stars peeping in between. Taking in nature, we just spoke about nonsense, amazed at the solitude that surrounded us.

Till a growling tummy made us move. Walking below the lamps, we heard shrieking whistles yelling at us. A man with his arms waving in the air, tried to get our attention. Thinking the worst we stopped. the man ran towards us, huffing and panting in exhaustion.

Catching his breath he demanded to know what exactly were we doing in the park at that hour. It had shut over an hour back and we had no business being here, obviously we were upto no good and he would have none of that,. and NO HE DOES NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO US! THE COPS SHALL DO THAT!@!

hahahaa, lawyer Blondie is amused as she wonders what crime she can be affixed with! and is reciting the Crpc sections, how females cant be taken to the cop station at night and other such trivia about the justice system. The guard does not care a hoot, and we are made to wait for 20 minutes for man on the cheetah bike to show up.

He does. The cheetah cop surfaces
yells in kannada
we reply kannada gotila.(dont understand sir) with big beaming smiles
he grunts
takes out a diary and records .. well what else but my fathers name. and as an afterthought mine!

Tries to make sense of the guards anger, my explanation, the heated exchanges and the frank looks.
makes a desperate attempt to scare me, by saying he shall call my father
gives up
shrugs, hops on to his bike and leaves

Blondie saves herself by her magical legalese!
hahahaa y am i so accident/cop prone?
i wonder

the day has come

Mom would tell me that there shall be a time in April, where i shall have so much work to juggle that i shall call her and yelp stating dont know what to do! well the day seems to have come and am loving it.. well not the work, hmm actually that too but the fact that there is so much new learning that is taking place that it is amazing..

Wanted to document what April was about. It truly was a whirlwind of a month with so so so much happening that the little me is only being jostled from incident to incident much like an ice cube in the cold coffee machine.

April 2010

One dream came tumbling down - the MBA sent me the aaww we so dont love u letter and with that there was time to make new paths to the old dream of getting to do work that one loves doing. A new me surfaced, did the self pity mode for a day, drank some beer and was good to hit the restart button once more

It was the month of new ness, new relationships were made and fostered, bubble land entered into, a CAT SCAN done, the first ever, head stitched up, cops chasing me from parks, the dreams dusted and relit with christmas light.

The coolest things about the month was the spontaneous movement of events. From the entry of the speed devil, to the cool cucumber, the Kristen Dunst yoga saga, the designer man a new group of people drifted into life as some very precious much loved sincerely missed entities choose to leave.

Work picked up, reached a targeted financial target, winning back the self belief that it was going to happen
Got pampered in parlours, realized the value of shampoo
Saw the inner working of a ngo beyond compare
met people whose lives are more inspirational for the passion they live it with
smiled at how my family was getting along, how a new person quickly became old
re connected with the city i have begun to call home
blogged and loved the writing
decided to cancel a vacation
grew up a little. lost a little
gained a lot
became a business person, re chartering deals that were closed
and in all this had a month that made me smile
started the month with tea estates and merry go rounds
ended it with pictionary and colossal love
if days fill up this fast with lightening speed
shall have to borrow a space machine
to define my sanity

sigh!! work beckons though the yoga mat is giving me rueful looks!

Centering -

Kristen Dunst, sat in the front seat  and Miss Penelope Cruz on the back seat as Blondie navigated yet one more deep crater of a pot hole to reach the elusive Vivekananda Prashanti Center, had forgotten to carry my camera and so there are no images to load here of that place. The link is here http://www.svyasa.org/

The plan was simple. Miss Dunst wanted to quit her job and change her employment visa for a student visa. Wanted to know a yogic course she needed to study to get the student tag, and so we went to see what the vivekanda had to offer as courses. We were joined by Miss Mexiacana, a travelling soul not searching but experiencing, who had the depth of yogic knowledge that I knew at a point of time.

Conversations were about kriyas, bandhas, mudras, the power of the kundalini, centering and awareness. Changing life styles, men and their expectations, drinking water stored in a erstwhile rum bottle, the inner space, the kriya courses and the rest of it. As we spoke i wanted to shrink into the tiniest fly i could condense into and fly off.

There was so much that I as an Indian intutively knew and had studied about this and so little that i practiced. The smoking, drinking, fizzy drink creature who was not doing her kriya but being swept like a kite with the flow of events is what i was at that point of time.

The greenery, the drive the conversation all of did me much good.  It cleansed me. From within.
May has begun on a good note, the yoga mat is out and the inner self is clamouring for attention
Getting the dusters out.
To nadi cleaning... it is possible