Saturday, September 14, 2013

3 Reveries

Yesterday Gaurang, Vandana & I went to attend a Rashid Khan concert at the DUCTAC theatre and as we waited for the concert to begin the 3 of us were lost in our own reveries.  Here is a 1st person recount of our revery as narrated by each of us:

As narrated by Ram

I was woken up from my revery by a voice over the sound system announcing that the accompanying artistes for harmonium and tabla have suddenly had a stomach upset and have been taken to the hospital.  So is there anyone in the audience who can play the harmonium and the tabla, and would be kind enough to volunteer their services to accompany Ustad Rashid Khan?

Being my usual modest self, I kept quiet - but then several people from the audience chanted my name and pleaded with me to save the occasion by providing my harmonium services - and I was therefore forced to come on to the stage, along with my son (who plays the tabla) and accompany the famed Ustad and hold the audience spell-bound with our magnificent performance.

As narrated by Gaurang, the son

I was mulling over what should be the next topic for my poem when I was disturbed from my pleasant thoughts by my dad rudely shaking me, and telling me that the harmonium and tabla players have taken ill, and that now is our chance to shine in front of an audience by displaying our harmonium and tabla skills respectively.

We tried to make our way to the stage to take our place near Rashad Khanji - but we had to literally fight our way to the stage as there were several other harmonium and tabla players from the audience who also wanted to show off their skills in the presence of Rashid Khanji.  I just don't know from where so many harmonium and tabla players appeared.  Somehow through some adroit maneuvering by my dad we managed to outwit all other rivals and grabbed our seats next to Rashid Khanji and started playing - my dad on the harmonium, and I on the tabla.  Rashid Khan on hearing our performance suddenly developed an inferiority complex and therefore left the stage - leaving just me and my dad to regale the audience with our skills.

As narrated by Vandana, the wife

My son is as crazy as his dad.  I mean, who would be foolish enough to fight his way to the stage and grab the seats next to the great Rashid Khanji to show off their amateur harmonium and tabla  skills?  I was very embarrassed and wanted to disappear into the floor.  But fortunately the great Rashid Khanji decided that enough is enough of this tom-foolery and called off the show, and give us a full refund.  We collected the refund and walked into the nearest branch of Damas Jewellery and wisely invested the money (and some more of it) on a beautiful jewellery item.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Saving Time

For me, going to a hair cutting saloon is a necessary evil - it has to be quick, efficient and should not make me look any worse than I looked before I entered the saloon.  In the short time I have been here in Dubai I have used 2 different saloons during my last 2 hair-cutting occasions.

This time I was in a dilemma - which one should I go to?  Both of them are situated on the same street, charge the same fee, have equally pleasant barbers, and both were similar in terms of the end-result.

Standing in front of the outlets, I did a quick assessment.

Saloon A had a barber who was quick.  I know from my previous experience he took only 20 minutes to cut my hair.  But there is a 20 minute waiting time as there was at least one other person waiting his turn ahead of me.  So total time in his shop = 40 minutes.

Saloon B had a barber who was relatively slow.  From experience I know he takes 40 minutes to cut my hair - but there is no waiting time as I could see the saloon was empty.  So total time in his shop is also 40 minutes.

As I mentioned the end result of A or B was identical - both cut my hair equally well - and both will consume an equal amount of my time - 40 minutes.  So which one do you think I selected?

This is the way I arrived at my decision : in Saloon A I would be idly waiting my turn for 20 minutes - that is like waste of time for me.  In Saloon B there is no waste of time as I will be engaged all of the 40 minutes.

So to save my time I chose Saloon B.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Letter To A Daughter

My dear Anupa,

Yesterday was your first day in your engineering college hostel - the first time ever you are staying away from your parents.  I know how you must have felt - you must have gone through the same emotions that you experienced when we heartlessly deposited you at the nursery 15 years ago and you cried your heart out. It seems only like yesterday ......

When you start this new phase of your life you will doubtlessly experience the same feelings that thousands of daughters and sons are going through right now.  The coming few days staying in an unfamiliar place are bound to be both exciting and confusing.  You will feel lonely, ignored, isolated.  You will wonder where are the "your" kind of friends who seemed to be in abundance in your school, but who seem to be totally missing in your new institution.  You will feel trapped, and you will wonder what are you doing in such a place. There will be periods when you will be tempted to say that you have had enough of this institution - however, hallowed it might be - and would want to desperately escape into the comforting arms of your parents.

Tomorrow when you walk out of your hostel room into the canteen scan the surroundings eagerly.  That apparently snooty girl who is looking down over her long nose at you might very well turn out to be a girl with a golden heart. And that girl who pointedly ignored you when you wanted companionship - for all you know, she may be going through the same emotions you are going through, and wondering whether she will ever have a friend in this unfamiliar place, little realising that her future best friend is standing very next to her.

Two months down the road, you will wonder why you ever felt lonely and confused.  By that time you would have made several life-long  friends with whom you will noisily share the canteen Upma which right now seems so distasteful and lumpy.  Be yourself, Anupa, and only do what you are comfortable doing - and 4 years down the road you will wonder how quickly some of your best moments of your life have passed.

Your loving Aanu.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Balcony Birds

I moved recently into an apartment in Bur Dubai.  The apartment has a tiny balcony - and like most Asians I plan to use this balcony to dry my laundry.

The balcony is home to a couple of pigeons.  They seem to be a couple, and sit huddled together most of the time in a corner of the balcony.

I love observing them - they give me a sense of peace and harmony. They seem to be my only connection with nature.

The pigeons fly out just a couple of times a day - probably to grab a quick bite.  And then they rush back to my balcony - almost as if they are afraid of losing their place on the balcony to some rival. This initially puzzled me as they seem to be the only pair in the apartment complex.

And then I realized that my balcony is the only one still "open" in the whole apartment complex - all other balconies have been closed off with nets - obviously to prevent birds from nesting.

The building caretaker informed me that there used to be dozens of these birds in the apartment complex - but over a period of time they have all left the building after the tenants started fencing off the balconies.  The pair on my balcony seem to be the last of them.

I am now facing the same challenge that prompted other apartment owners to close their balconies - these pigeons mess up the balcony, and soil up the laundry.  In fact I am currently forced to dry my laundry in my bedroom - a luxury I can ill-afford given the tiny apartment size.

So it is just a matter of time before I too close off this pigeon pair's last refuge.  I will do this reluctantly and with much regret, consoling myself that the last of the pigeon pair will eventually find a more hospitable host in an apartment complex elsewhere in this city.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Possibilities

In the restaurant at the hotel where I am staying, I was led by the Maitre d' to a nice 2 seater table near the window.  I placed my laptop bag on the chair, and went to fill my plate.

On my return to the table I find a dainty woman's purse on the table.  Obviously, some lady had come in my absence, and decided to occupy the table - and has now gone to fill up her own plate after leaving her purse on the table.

She had obviously seen my dashing George Clooney hair style and wanted my company at the table.  Of course there was also the possibility (remote though I would like to believe) that she simply had failed to notice the laptop bag occupying the chair.

What do I do now?  Do I ....
1.Quickly move her purse to an adjoining table, sit at my table and pretend nothing has happened?
2.Let her purse remain on the table, and when she comes to the table tell her that this table was already occupied, and therefore she should shift to another table?
3.Same as point 2, but tell her that she is free to join me at my table if she is so keen to sit there?

I ruled out action step 1 - it was sneaky and indirect.  Action step 2 against a woman would be rude and against the Rao honor code.  And Action step 3 was fraught with too many possibilities .............

In the end I decided on action step 4 - I took my laptop bag and myself to another table at the far end of the room.  And then tried hard not to see who came to occupy my erstwhile table .....

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Getting Muddled Up

Have been staying in a hotel since last week. Today morning I got into the elevator to go to the restaurant for breakfast.  The lift was quite crowded with a holidaying family.  The teen daughters were blocking the push buttons inside the lift - so I told them to press 18.

They just looked at me and did nothing.

Oh, they are Russian tourists who don't understand me - so I said slowly "Press 18 - One Eight".

The 2 teenage girls just stared at me, and did nothing.

I was panicking now - I did not want to miss my floor.

When people do not understand, speak louder.

"PLEASE PRESS 18 - I am going to the breakfast lounge" I said doing the gesture of putting food into my mouth.

The mother now intervened, and in perfect British English she said "18 is the floor you got on.  You need to go to the 8th floor for the breakfast - and as you can see that button is already pushed".

I rode the rest of the elevator journey minutely examining my shoes, and wondering what would be the expression on their faces.

I scurried out of the elevator as soon as it reached the 8th floor - and cunningly pretended not to hear the explosion of laughter that echoed out of the elevator.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Solace when it is needed

Ram Gopal Verma mentioned in an interview that Jiah Khan had come to meet him a few days before her death.  He admitted that he could have spent some more time with Jiah explaining why he had no roles for her and giving her the emotional support she so obviously needed when she came to meet him.  Perpetually short on time he sent her away thinking he would have the chat with her some other day.

Emotional support needs to be delivered when the person needs it most.  Sometimes it is so obvious when a person comes to you that all he/she wants is someone to just listen - a few kind words of empathy - or just "human" company and a cup of coffee.

Solace, companionship or "am there for you" has to be then and there - postponing it is as good as not ever giving it.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Leadership is Spice

The Konkani dish called "Dali Thoy" comes alive when there is a trace of hing (asafoetida), and methi seeds (fenugreek).  If these two spices are not added. the dish becomes bland and tasteless.  Too much of these spices and the dish becomes unpalatable. The whole magic of this dish is in getting the dish to just have a hint of these 2 spices.

Good Leadership is like the addition of spice to a dish.  Good leaders never demean themselves (or their junior associates) by usurping for themselves the role of the main ingredient.  They act as the spice - adding the je ne sais quoi effect with their subtle presence.  Such leaders don't display an urge to make their presence felt unless absolutely necessary - but in their absence they are missed.

Into The Wild

Saw this movie directed by Sean Penn based on a real-life incident about a youth who believes society is hypo-critical, and thinks that real truth is best experienced communing alone with nature in its pristine form.  He therefore abandons all connections with society and his family, and treks into the Alaskan wild where he spends 4 months alone.  He spends his time reading, and writing down his thoughts in a diary, while subsisting on a meager diet of berries and rodents - and all the while pretending to be happy.

Then while recovering from the effects of eating poisonous berries, he has the blinding revelation that "Happiness is real only when shared".  Unfortunately, this realization comes a bit too late for him, and by then he is too weak to trek his way back to civilization and to the people who love him.  He therefore dies alone, pining for human companionship and love.

Beautiful movie - it certainly makes one think about the critical, but often ignored, role played by human contact in our lives.

Friday, April 26, 2013

My life in Cairo - a Pictorial description

Outside office a lot of time was spent in the car doing the 40 minute commute.  Mahmoud my driver, was more than my driver - he was my friend and guide too.  I realise now that he is probably the person with whom I have spent the maximum time during the last two and half years.  Sadly for the last 2 months he has been advised by doctors not to drive due to his blood pressure.  I have been experimenting with various other drivers - however, none of them came up to the high standards set by Mahmoud in terms of discipline and time-sense.  He is one person to whom I owe a lot.  Just the fact that he will promptly turn up at my house at 8.15 am will force me to get up from bed everyday and stick to a disciplined schedule. 

I was pretty much a home bird.  Given the time I spent at home I furnished it in a way that I am most comfortable with - minimalist and almost spartan.
A lot of the time was spent in the kitchen - my vegetarian diet did not give me too many options in restaurants.  And as my wife testifies, I am very finicky when it comes to food - it has to be simple and almost bland

There are not too many Indian type vegetables available in Egypt - so I thrived mostly on Potato, aubergine, beans, cabbage and cauliflower which are available in plenty.  But I missed the karela, long beans etc 

What would I have done without the Indian made Panasonic food processor?  I used it solely for grinding the Dosa and Idli batter.  Like a true South Indian, I went crazy if I was deprived of my dosa for long, so my batter making skills improved dramatically.  However, getting the urad dal was a challenge. I got it from Dubai and built up a huge hoard of it.
Is there anything in the fridge?  My daily diet was mostly rice - packed curd rice for lunch, and rice and some vegetables in the night.  Many a time when I have returned tired from office, I have been saved by the rice in the fridge.  Give me curd rice and pickle - and I will survive anywhere.
An Indian restaurant opened-up near my house recently.  I went there a couple of times, but felt very uncomfortable.  Unlike other cities like New York, Mumbai or Dubai, the city of Cairo is still a very family oriented city - and single men dining in restaurants is not a common sight.  I had described my experience in my blog post here.  So it was back to home food for me.
Outside the kitchen my time was spent largely on Skype chatting with my family back home.  Skype was the greatest boon to me - and I would not have been able to cope with the bachelorhood without it.  I would wait expectantly for the call from my dear wife every morning.  Most of Friday and Saturday was spent on Skype too catching up with the children.
And then there was of course my harmonium.  This is what kept me going.  It was my sole companion whenever I felt down and out. I would put on music by famous musicians, and pretend I was accompanying them for a live show on the harmonium.  Once while I was practicing in the early morning the neighbours  complained, and from then on I started using headphones.  My favourite headphone broke and as I did not like any other headphone, I repaired my favourite headphone using a lot of yellow cellotape. 

Strangely enough I watched very little TV.  Watching TV made me think of home, and depressed me.  

I must have read the massive tome "Security Analysis" by Ben Graham at least twice.  I am thankful that I found the time to do some quality reading - especially on investment related subjects.
This is the view from the kitchen balcony.  My maid came every Friday morning to clean up the place, and would hang up the clothes to dry on the balcony.The maid was crucial in motivating me to keep the house neat - otherwise I would have ended up staying in a pig sty.
My Reebok shoes - During the summer I would go out for my long morning walks, followed by a bit of Yoga.  However, during winters I found that difficult because of the extreme cold.
The room heater - how would I have survived the harsh 8 degree winters without it?

Who is at the door - the laundry-man, the electricity man or someone else?  For a few months after the revolution I would use the peep-hole before opening the door - however, very soon this habit vanished as my confidence in the security situation improved. 
Because of the total communication cut-off that had happened during the revolution, the office thoughtfully provided a satellite phone in the event of an emergency.  I can proudly state that I never had to unpack the satellite phone from its original packing.
Initially when I had taken the residence I was concerned that there will be too much noise from the School opposite my house.  Later, I actually would look forward to hearing the noise of children from the school - and I was glad that I stayed in this apartment.
It is easy to go to pieces, or go astray when you are staying alone in such an environment.  Prayer saved me.

A couple of months ago all 3 wall clocks in my house, and my half dozen watches stopped functioning.  It was almost as if they were sending me a message.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

I, Moving

Barely 2 weeks to go before I bid good-bye to Egypt, to take on a new role in Nielsen based out of Dubai.

I came into Egypt in December 2010 completely oblivious of the impending Revolution and the cataclysmic shake-up that it will unleash in our personal and professional lives, including mine.

I don't want to pretend to be the cool guy and claim that this period has been a cake-walk.  I admit the last two-and-half years have been tough, but it did help me understand myself better.

I don't want to be melodramatic either, and say I will shed tears on leaving Egypt - a country still close to my heart.  Egypt is now part of what I have become - for the better and for the worse - and I will be forever grateful for this.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Why every Harmonium sounds different - Tuning

Have you ever wondered why every harmonium sounds different in terms of the tonal quality.  The situation becomes worse when the same key e.g. Black 1 - is at different pitches in 2 harmoniums.  In this situation one cannot play both harmoniums together in the same program.

Have you ever put on a Hindustani classical piece on your music system, and then tried to accompany on your harmonium - and then found to your dismay that your harmonium pitch is at a completely different pitch from that of the vocalist, and you could not therefore play it?

And then of course you would have heard of the controversy around tuning - should harmoniums be tuned to 440 hz which is the Western Classical standard?  Do these harmoniums sound better than harmoniums tuned at a different pitch e.g. at 430 Hz?

This was the dilemma I faced when I acquired my new custom made Triple Reed Harmonium described in my post here.  Here is a short video explaining the concept behind tuning harmoniums - hopefully it would help remove some of the myths around harmonium tuning.


Custom-made Triple Reed harmonium

I took possession of my new custom made triple reed harmonium last week.  It was crafted at the Bombay Harmonium Works, Mangalore.

This harmonium features 3 sets of reeds - Chorus, Male and Female.  The Chorus and Male reeds are German reeds taken from another old harmonium, while the Female is a new Palitana set.  Old German reeds are the best - Indian reeds do not come anywhere close in quality.

Because the reeds are German, it is tuned to 430 Hz - and not the concert standard 440 Hz.

Here is a short video about the features of this harmonium, and why I consider this as a really special harmonium.

And here is a short video of I and my son doing riyaz - with I using this harmonium.



Sunday, April 7, 2013

On Bearded Outlooks & Cloudy Futures

For some time I have been considering growing a beard. This is not just because it is now seen as an essential requirement to become a President in certain countries. It is also because I thought I could compensate for my lack of intellect by growing a beard. You see all my intellectual professors, and Gurus in the Market Research profession have all sported lush beards, and I think growing a beard will give me the respect that has long been elusive.

The question is : what kind of beard? Should it be the lush beard that I often see nowadays on Egyptian TV? Yeah, several of my professors had those kind of beards. I considered it for some time, then I decided against it. Growing such a beard might get me into trouble with all those clean shaven, bad moral people who roam the streets of Cairo targetting women and bearded men.

Then I considered growing a Frenchy beard - you know the goatee – the kind of half-beard that is there only on the chin? This kind of beard is especially popular among Market Researchers who use it to good effect while contemplating a scruffy problem. But then it has become a bit too common. What I need is something that will make me stand-out – that will make people to immediately say when they see me approaching "Here comes an intellectual worthy of our respect".

So I finally thought I would grow a sailor's beard - you know the kind of beard that senior Admirals in the Navy sport – the beard that imparts a look of distinction, and that would especially go well with my elegant silver hair. And maybe that kind of a beard will make the watchmen outside client offices allow me entry without first checking whether I have come there seeking a donation.

So I waited for my next 5 day long weekend and grew the beginnings of a sailor’s beard. But before I exposed myself to the general public I, like a true Market Researcher, thought it prudent to get an opinion as to how it suited me – some ego-massaging suggestion on how elegant I looked, and what I can do to further fine-tune my beard to make it look more elegant..

So over Skype I showed my 5 day stubble to my wife and my daughter.

My daughter took a look at my elegant gray stubble and wrinkled her nose “You look EVEN more old now” she said.

I cleverly pretended to avoid noticing the insult:“But does it not go well with my grey hair – and does it not give me an air of distinction?” I countered.

My wife now intervened.

“You know it certainly looks good on you – certainly makes you look mature” she said.

I was ecstatic. I always knew the wife had a better taste in beards than my daughter ….

“BUT ….” She added. She said it with that peculiar emphasis that I have learnt to dread ….

“Yes?” I challenged defensively. I was ready to counter any sarcastic comment about my looks and age with a scathing rejoinder…. .

“It looks good on you …. But…. you have a disgruntled look when you have a beard ” she said.

That took the wind out of me. One can have shabbily dressed leaders. One can even have leaders sporting grey hair. But a leader walking around with a disgruntled look? That will be career suicide.

So I shaved off my stubble immediately.

My wife seems to have forgotten the entire episode because she did not comment when she next saw me without my beard. Being more clever than my wife, I have of course not reminded her about this subject either. 

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

A Circus

I wrote this letter 15 years ago (before the blogging era) describing our visit to the circus with our then 2 year old daughter Ashwini (Anupa).  We recently discovered a copy of this letter while cleaning a cupboard.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
11th May 1998
Dear Preethi,

Yesterday, all of a sudden, I had the brilliant idea that it is time I educated my off-spring about animals.  And what better way than to take her to the friendly neighbouring Gemini circus?

Arrive at the circus with just 5 minutes to go for the start.  Start rushing for the ticket booths ....

But, Anupa has her priorities right : "Ice Cream" she commands.

The one-eyed robber at the ice cream stall sizes up Anupa's mood and decides that he can ask for a premium and get it easily : "Fifteen rupeees" he demands for a tiny ice cream cup which costs only Rs 11.

Then the rush to our seats past the smelly elephant, horse and hippopotamus stalls.

Very stuffy and hot inside the circus tent.  Anupa decides to pour some ice cream on my lap to cool me down.

"Anupa, look at the elephant riding the cycle".  Anupa looks at the elephant with a bored expression which seemed to say : "So what is so great about an elephant riding a tricycle - I can ride a tricycle better".  No quarrel with that.

5 minutes later Anupa decides she has seen enough elephants riding tricycles to last her a life-time.  "Let us go home" she says.

We buy her silence by bribing her with some biscuits.

The joker of the circus makes his appearance and carries out his buffoonery.  Anupa laughs.  We become happy that Anupa is at last enjoying the circus.  But alas we are mistaken.  She is only laughing at the small baby in the next seat who has started liberally drooling over the chair.  The circus is for the birds.

The joker is carrying out his buffoonery.  "Anupa, look at the joker".  Her response : "Pichs. I want pichs".

"Chips, chips anyone, hot chips" shouts a voice in my ear as a chips seller clambers over my feet and displays his wares to Anupa knowing he has got a captive audience.  These vendors are everywhere treading on someone's toes here and blocking somebody's view there.  Why, some of the enterprising vendors have even clambered on to the stage and are trying to sell some chips to the joker.

"Anupa, look at that horse standing on two legs".

Anupa gazes uninterestedly at the horse, and suppresses a yawn which seems to say "So what, I am also standing on two legs".  Then she looks at the chips seller and says : " Pichs, I want pichs".

"Anupa, look at those people jumping up and down on the trampoline".

"Pichs, Pichs" she says and starts jumping up and down on my lap.

Finally curtain call and we head back home.

The neighbouring uncle greets us on our return.  He asks Anupa : "So sweet heart, where did you go today?"

"Cirrrcussss" she says, gladdening her parents' hearts with her quick response.

And what did you see there?" the uncle asks.

She knew this question was a toughy, so she gives careful thought to the question before answering.

"Pichs" she says.

And they say kids love the circus?  Now I know why.