The Only Sensational Moment Of Dhoom-3

Dhoom-3 is technically superb - but left me cold.  Soul-less - unlike its less-slick predecessors.

The 3 kids sitting in front too seemed to share my view - they were sitting slumped in their seats while watching the movie.  2 of them were teenagers, and the 3rd was a small brat - possibly the kid brother of one of the teens.

The only time the teens perked up was when Abishek Bachan asked Aamir Khan to remove his shirt and jacket to check if he had a bullet wound.

But their interest was short-lived ....

"No Cavity Check - I thought that was compulsory in the US" said one teen to the other in a disappointed voice, slumping back in his seat.

"What can you expect with these poorly paid Indian policemen brought all the way from India" replied the other teen, slumping back too in his seat.

"I have cavities too" said the small brat and showed off his mouthful of teeth.

Paisa vasool finally for me.....

To My Daughter On Her 18th Birthday

My dear Anupa,

You have turned 18 today – and I am still trying to reconcile with this fact.  One moment you were the small girl uncertain of her place in the world – and then next moment – poof, you have become this beautiful, self-confident young lady.  When did that happen?

To a dad, all children are special – but a Daughter is special in a very different way to her dad - ask any dad.  Bringing up a daughter is so different : Sons seem to grow slower – or at least they seem to grow in stages, and one is always aware that he is slowly maturing into a young adult.  But daughters? Boom - one day – the little girl is a young lady.

And then fathers of daughters are always conscious that they are in a race with time.  I cannot explain it here – but I know fathers of daughters will understand what I mean. 

Seeing you grow made me realize how quick and transient life is. No matter how much time I have spent with you, I still want  to clutch on to Time and say “hey there, can you please stop running – I want some more time with my little daughter … “   

Dads are always greedy when it comes to their daughters – just can’t help it.

Here’s wishing you a wonderful 18^th Birthday my lovely one – and a fantastic life ahead for you.

Your loving,

Aanu

Why The Wife Walks Behind Her Husband

I got the blinding revelation suddenly.  Cars in the fast lane are compelled to perpetually move at a fast pace because of the car behind them coming at a fast pace.  So the car in the front is pressurised to travel fast because of the "forward pressure" exerted by the car behind it.....

I thought I will use this "forward pressure" principle to good use for a 20 year problem that I have been facing ...

You see, when I and my wife go out walking, it typically starts out with us walking side by side like this ....

But then, within moments we are walking like this, with me in the front, and my wife following about 10 feet behind me:

The result is, our net cumulative speed is always slow .......

Today having keenly observed what happens in the fast lane, I thought I will use the "forward pressure" principle. Henceforth I am going to walk behind my wife so that I exert a forward pressure on my wife to walk faster.

You would have expected that this tactic of mine would now force my wife to walk faster..

But I was mistaken.....

"What are you doing?" she said, turning around and looking at me suspiciously.

"Nothing - am just walking behind you" I said, unwilling to give the game away.

"No, there is something wrong" she says, and walks even slower until I am forced to brake in order to avoid bumping into her.

"So, what is wrong, tell me?" she says now and keenly scans the surroundings.  And then I had the 2nd blinding revelation that day - wives walk behind their husbands to keep a close watch on them - after all there may be quite a few "untoward distractions" on the road for the husband.....

So we are back to square one now - and please notice the triumphant glee on someone's face :

And whoever compared a car to a woman is an absolute idiot.

The Day I took on All India Radio

The favourite past-time for me and my brothers when we were kids was to engage in a battle of “Who will disturb the other's song?" contest.  This typically entails 2 brothers simultaneously singing - but with each brother singing a different song.  Each brother will sing at the top of his voice to disturb the singing of the other – so you can imagine the cacophony.  

The climax is reached when one brother - not being able to focus on his own song (because of the cacaphony) is suddenly forced to switch to singing the other brother’s song – so now both brothers are singing the same song.  So one brother “wins” and the other brother (who was forced to change his track) “loses”. 

Being the bigger of the brothers (and hence with a bigger voice then) I took pride in my track-record of “winning” such encounters.

The HMV radio set took pride of place

Once when I was all of 5 years old I took on the might of All India Radio.  I always imagined that the song over the radio was delivered "live" by the singer (i.e. the singer sitting in the studio and singing live) - and the sound came via a hollow cable straight from the radio studio.  Hence the singer will be able to hear us through the radio if we shout loudly. 

So once while our large HMV (His Master’s Voice) radio set was playing a hit number by Kishore Kumar (India's number 1 singer those days), I stood close to the radio set and started singing another Kishore film song at the top of my voice.  My rationale was simple – if I sing at the top of my voice, Kishore Kumar sitting in the studio would get disturbed and confused, and would switch his track to sing along with me the song I selected.

My ego took a big beating that day – Kishore Kumar turned out to be a bigger competitor than I imagined.  He just kept coolly singing his own song, and it was I who kept getting disturbed and losing my track.  I finally gave up the battle.

It was only months later that I understood that the radio is a one-way communication device.

Nowadays whenever I am in a situation where I should only listen and not talk (which is frequent enough), I am reminded of the day I unsuccessfully challenged All India Radio. 

Weighty Matters

The girl promoting VLCC at the nearby supermarket seemed to know who to target with her sales pitch for a weight-loss program. She stands at the entrance and selectively approaches only certain people.

I overheard one of the ladies who was approached by the VLCC girl mournfully remarking to the daughter "Till last week that VLCC girl did not even look at me - but today she approached me.  I have therefore definitely put on weight."

I wonder whether the VLCC girl is aware of the dread she must be causing to anyone walking into the store : Will she, Won't she? 

I surreptitiously looked at my paunch. Better not risk it. I took a deep breath and flattened my tummy as much as I could, and then tip-toed quietly out of the store.  

My brush with Leadership

I live in a building which has a paranoia for security.  To exit the basement car-park, one has to pass through a tunnel (similar to the one which Mandrake the Magician had in his Xanadu).  And as in Xanadu, there are 2 automatic metal gates at either end of the tunnel. 

Entrance to tunnel with gate open

Today morning for some reason the gate at the far end of the tunnel got stuck and there were 5-6 cars queued up in the tunnel, wanting to get out.  Seeing that the tunnel was almost full, I stopped my car just before the first gate in the basement.

A Land-Cruiser came up behind me, and honked impatiently.  I did not want an argument early in the morning so I advanced my car past the first gate, and into the tunnel.  Now there was no place in the tunnel for another car to enter – so the Land Cruiser behind had to wait just before the 1st metal grill in the basement.

One more honk.  Of course I could not do anything now, so I stayed put.

In my rear view mirror, I could see the door of the Land Cruiser opening and a guy stepping out.  Since I don’t know his name, let me call him “Leadership Material” or “LM” for short.

He walked into the tunnel and surveyed the scene.  There were a group of drivers and some building technicians trying to force the rebellious gate at the far end of the tunnel to open – but the gate was refusing to co-operate with them.

LM came and tapped at my car window, and said : “Mai jaldi mein hoon.  Kuch tho karna chahiye”  - he said it in a tone that indicated his displeasure that there are lazy guys like me sitting around and doing nothing to solve the problem.

While I was thinking of a suitable response in my hesitant Hindi, he marched up to the gate at the far end, past the 5-6 cars parked in the tunnel.  He then barked some orders at the technicians, who chose to ignore him.

Meanwhile, the 1st gate behind me (at the beginning of the tunnel) started automatically closing behind me.  LM saw it closing, and started running back trying to reach his car before the metal grill closed, but in vain. 

So now we had this situation where LM was in the tunnel – with a metal grill firmly separating him from his car. 

LM came up and again tapped on my window “Lo – gate tho bandh ho gaya.  Abh mai kya karoon?” he asked me in an accusative tone.  I sympathised with him : there was no way he could reach his car now except by walking up the tunnel, walking past the 2nd metal gate (when it does open up), getting onto the road, walking around the building to the main entrance, and then taking the elevator down to the basement car park to reach his car.

Meanwhile the technicians had disabled the exit gate at the far end and lifted it up – so the cars now started to move out of the tunnel.  I too drove out.

My last vision of LM in the rear view mirror was of him panting his way up the tunnel. 

Did I Just Miss The Bus?

I walked briskly towards the bus stop.  There is a bus at 8.55, and the next one is 20 minutes later.  Missing the bus at 8.55 would mean a long 20 minute wait in the sweltering Dubai heat.

I was still a couple of minutes from reaching the bus stop when I saw with dismay the 8.55 departing from the bus stop. I had just missed it.  

The 20 minute wait at the deserted bus-stop was very agonizing.  I was very frustrated – and each minute of the 20 was painful, and spent kicking myself for having missed the bus.

What made the wait painful was the certainty that this is a 20 minute wait – and I was certain of that because I saw the bus departing – and I knew with certainty that the next one is not due until 20 minutes later.

But supposing I had not seen the bus depart from the bus stop? I would have then arrived at the bus station, and waited hopefully expecting the 8.55 to turn up in the next “few” minutes (probably it is a few minutes late today?).  The next few minutes would have turned into 20 minutes eventually – and I would have ended up taking the same bus anyway.  But I would have still waited with anticipation, and these 20 minutes would have passed more pleasantly.

As far as I am concerned I am happy with not knowing whether I just missed the bus - or when precisely the next bus would arrive. I have started to embrace unpredictability. It makes me hopeful of unexpected and exciting turn of events – and it makes any wait worthwhile.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 .....

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.

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.

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.