Oh My God, It’s PK

My most recent and rather annoying experience with imbeciles relates to a delightfully sensible and sensitive (yep, that’s the order in which the two ‘sens’ follow) called PK. PK is about an alien that visits our planet, and more specifically our country. His mission is to study the people of this planet and report back to his own. The key to his return is a homing/tracking device that is stolen from him. Without this device, his mother ship cannot pick him up. Thus begins his journey towards finding this lost device which leads him to unravel the misgivings of self-styled God men proclaiming to be direct ‘connections’ with God. I won’t delve much more into the story, as that is not the purpose of this article. What I do intend to do, is to vent my anger and frustration on the anti-social elements that feels that this simple film is an insult to their religion.

What PK does is simple:

It exposes self-styled fraudulent God men who influence the gullible masses with religious hokum. What I find hard to believe is that a fairly large number of these followers are well educated people. Now, one can and will argue that education has nothing to do with the fact that one believes in a power higher than one’s self. That is a valid argument as even some of the greatest minds of our times like Thomas Edison and Albert Einstein believed in the Divine as well as in the concept of Miracles. BUT, BUT, BUT. None of these great minds ever believed that a single individual could be their ticket to ridding themselves of their problems once and for all. None of these people were influenced into ‘donating generously’ to attain Nirvana.

PK has many simple messages but the most powerful message is that of helping one another live through life’s challenges rather than putting all your Faith and Money into a never-ending abyss of lies and deceit. God wanted us to look after each other and that’s why he made us. It reminds me of another movie that deeply influenced my own beliefs about God and our ways of worship. That film was called ‘OMG! Oh My God!’ There is a beautiful song in the film which is sung soulfully by Kailesh Kher called ‘Mere Nishaan’. The song is God’s lament about how human beings have made it a business. Some of the lines in the song (translated below) are very similar to the message PK has for us:

I no longer live in the hearts of my people,

instead I am sold everywhere in the markets…

…I made this world with my own hands

not out of soil but out of emotions

yet, here I am looking for myself

OMG took a hard-hitting stand towards some of the ludicrous beliefs that religions inculcate. Like instead of wasting a liter of milk on an stone idol, why not give it to a poor person who hasn’t eaten for days? PK makes a far more subtle statement about trying to build your own connection to the divine by helping one another. About finding your own path and not giving in to the devious and divisive ideologies that are communicated through god-men. Oh My God openly mocks at Priests by rating their IQ equivalent to the temperature of a room. The protagonist goes on to state God has become a business and that this business is rampant owing to a constant state of fear that is instilled into followers. Do this or you will go to Hell. Do that and a place for you in Heaven is guaranteed. PK does the same. There are of course, many more similarities between the two films but the biggest difference between the two is this. PK at heart is a sensitive film that is centered around loving, caring, and looking out for one another (just like PK and Jaggu and even Bhairon Singh do in the fim). OMG scarcely relies on any of the qualities or emotions that PK does. Instead, it takes the proverbial ‘bull by the horns’ approach in dealing with Religion as a form of Crony Capitalism.

But what exactly seems to be the problem with Religious extremist groups that want PK to be banned??? Well, it’s not difficult to decipher (even for a person with the IQ of my bedroom). PK is enacted by a Muslim- Aamir Khan. It’s funny how a large percentage of this country nodded in agreement as Aamir, through his Television programme, ‘Satyamev Jayate’ tackled one taboo topic after another. Most of these were some form of social evil, Malpractice, Corruption or any other pressing Social need of the country. The armchair activists of this country, from their higher moral ground, applauded most of his efforts to bring these issues to the forefront. So what was he then, An Indian or a Muslim? If he was an Indian trying to do his bit to improve the world that we live in the TV programme, then how come they have a problem against the same Indian trying to dispel the shroud of darkness that has a sinister effect on the overall well-being of the nation, through his film?

The problem does not lie in the Religious prejudices. The problem lies in the fact that these Religious Extremists wait for an opportunity to strike a soft target and therefore attract publicity. They like to see the effect that the film has on the masses and then decide whether it is in their best vested interests to ban the film or not.

The problem lies with the fact that these groups will always prefer it if the larger population remains uneducated and continue to be governed by completely irrational claims of individuals being God’s favoured messengers. If the masses wake up to this fact that God has indeed given us the opportunity to empower ourselves and carve our paths, these organizations wouldn’t survive leave alone thrive. 

The problem lies with the fact that these extremists (and I include ALL religious extremist outfits) really have absolutely nothing to do with Religion. It is a business that thrives on a constant state of fear. Their highly treasured investments (God Men) won’t get them the votes they so badly need to keep them in Power.

Last but not the least, nobody will hear what they have to say because people will keep themselves busy by helping each other out irrespective of their caste, creed or religion. And then maybe we won’t find God, but we will for sure have more people say to us ‘Thank God, for sending you J ‘ See you all in the New Year. And if you haven’t seen PK yet, then do yourselves a big favour by watching the film. And do watch OMG! Oh My God as well. 

Superwoman

Seven days ago, my mother was rushed into the Intensive Care Unit following a violent attack of seizures which led her into a semi-comatose state. This wasn’t the first time she was admitted into a hospital, but this indeed was the first time I was closest to losing her. Forever!!! As the Doctors here at the Apollo Specialty Hospital, Jayanagar 3^rd Block, worked tirelessly to revive her, there were many flashes that returned to my memory. As I write this article, she is still here however she is on the road to recovery.In this article, I’m going to share some of those moments that left an indelible mark in my life and in more ways than one changed it. 

It was the year 2002. My first two months in Southampton were traumatic. I was struggling to understand the intricacies of the MBA programme since it had been five years since I had passed out of college. Trying to make sense of ‘their’ style of administering courses means unlearning what you have already learnt in ‘our’ style. And trust me, it wasn’t easy. Research-based methods had to take precedence over rote-based methods. Questioning was more important than agreeing. And unlike what we are taught here in India, there is no right or wrong answer; just perspectives. Justify it with relevant academic and real-life theories and instances and you get your grade.

Then there was the guilt, bitterness and sorrow of a break-up. Not that I want to give that too much of importance here but it was my first break-up (at the age of 24). What added to my woes was the accommodation. It wasn’t bad, not at all but I simply was not prepared for living in a room that was the size of a matchbox. How was I going to spend an entire year in an 8X6 Room??? Add to that, some terribly noisy neighbours and ,therefore, sleepless nights, and you have a perfect recipe for depression. Oh and I forgot (how could I)!!!!! I had to wake up at 5 in the morning every day, to carry a 20-kg mail bag around a distant neighbourhood to deliver mail. I had to complete the entire delivery within the hour (else, I would miss my pick-up) and then report back to the Post office.

From a Course viewpoint, my first assignment at class was nothing short of disaster. I had failed. And badly. The tutors found my language to be a notch or two better than the rest of the class but I wasn’t here to demonstrate my grip on English. I needed to change the way thought about assignments;  and the first one was a grim warning of what lay ahead.  Ever since I landed in the United Kingdom in September 2002, I was in for one rude shock after another (thankfully, racism wasn’t one of them).  It was around the first week of November (closer to my Birthday) that everything changed. And there was just one person responsible for it. No prizes for guessing who it was. 

I was in the library looking for some research material for my next assignment when I received a call from one of my newly formed friends, “ JD! there’s a packet that’s come for you from India. It reads from Sheila Gandhi and it’s quite big. You might wanna come and take a look” I was elated. A packet from home meant goodies. And if this friend of mine said it was quite big then it meant loads of goodies. Some respite, I smiled to myself. And knowing my mom, she would have packed it immaculately. She has always been brilliant at gift wrapping; so much so that you wouldn’t feel like opening the gift. I had no idea whatsoever about what lay ahead. As I opened the door to the lobby of my apartment there stood two of my friends beaming smiles and next to them she stood. I screamed “ MOM” and gave her the tightest hug I’ve ever given anybody ever in my life. I didn’t say a word for as long as I can remember; Neither did she. Tears flowed freely. That moment moved even my friends and I was tempted to give them a hug as well but NO. This moment was fiercely MINE and MINE alone.

She had taken on travel assignment from her employer (the British Deputy High Commission) despite having had a Kidney Transplant Operation a few months ago. Her Doctors has advised against long distance travel for at least a year since she was prone to infection which could easily be transmitted in Public areas such as Airports. A new country also meant she could be susceptible to virus there. She had put herself in a precarious situation by agreeing to travel for 3-weeks across the length and breadth of UK to promote trade. All this, JUST to be with me.  That meant we had Three weekends together. Three memorable weekends together which changed everything.  

During the course of her stay, my friends and I were treated to her trademark masterchef recipes. We walked all over Southampton, celebrated my birthday by going out to one of the most posh restaurants in Southampton, visited the grave of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and had many more such fantastic experiences. I realized just how much had gone into sending me here. The sacrifices she made. The pain she had undergone. The sheer loneliness she had to deal with. And the huge health risk she took by coming to see me. The health worries weren’t all. In that same year, my brother got married. For the uninitiated, Indian wedding are more drama, pomp and superficiality than substance. But Mom being Mom, kept all of that to a bare minimum and single-handedly took care of our family’s share of the expenses. If that wasn’t stressful enough, imagine this: Soon after marriage, my brother moved jobs, and as a result, moved to another city which meant that for the first time in her life, she returned to an empty house. The very thought is disturbing. But she did it.

As a parting note, let’s jot down all the events that occurred in the year 2002.

a)       A Kidney Transplant in February

b)       My brothers marriage in August along with a fracture to her right hand during the wedding

c)       My departure to the UK in September

She dealt with all of that and of course, the trials and tribulations of daily life. And came out on top. But then I always believed that she was Superwoman. Mere mortals are not that capable. Ask me, I’m one J . A mere mortal J .

My point of view: A letter to Times of India

To the Times of India,

Dear TOI,

Firstly, I want to congratulate you for the wonderful series in your online edition called OMG. I myself have clicked on these links several times and almost unfailingly. It doesn’t matter what follows OMG or how true it may be because you guys claim to be playing by the rules of the game.Right?  You say online media is crude, crassy and has different rules in comparison to traditional media and that one size does not fit all. Really? And who may I know is responsible for setting these rules of sensationalism. As you are supposedly one of the country’s biggest media houses I’m quite tempted to point all my five fingers at you. In the past, you guys has unashamedly displayed Yana Gupta’s private parts, shamelessly linked Arjun Kapoor to Malaika Arora, put down slide shows of actresses in sex scandals and what not under the title OMG. But enough is enough. Maybe you guys don’t understand (which is not surprising).

Are you guys so click hungry that you make news that is dick hungry? What kind of perverse pleasure do you guys get in sensationalizing stuff like OMG Deepika’s showing her cleavage. So what? Like you mentioned in your futile and rather inane attempt to justify yourselves, Deepika has posed provocatively for many magazines, movies etc etc, but just what gives you the right to make it an OMG moment? Do you understand where I’m coming from. Ok I guess you don’t so let me simplify it like teachers explain to school children.

So here’s me taking central stage with a stick in my hand for class full of children (read TOI journos). I even have a stick in my hand for the mischievous back-benchers. So shall we begin class?

Children, today we will learn about the term OMG and its various usages. OMG is the short form (I would’ve said abbreviation but then these children don’t understand sophisticated words) for Oh My God! It is a term that is used to describe something that really surprises you. It is used to describe something that is unusual and warrants a special mention. It is often used to sensationalize trivial matters to attract viewers and many times uses a red circle to drive home its point. So remember to use OMG whenever you see something surprising like:

a)      OMG teenagers are growing facial hair

b)      OMG the teacher has come to class

c)      OMG my friend had a bath

d)      OMG I wore clothes today

You get the drift right?  Now can some of you tell me some OMG moments in your lives?

One student stands up. ‘yes’ says the teacher. ‘OMG I had breakfast today’ says the student. ‘Well done, child you nailed it’ . So much for OMG moments. Now coming back to Deepika’s cleavage. Why don’t you guys put OMG moments for stuff like ‘OMG, Amitabh Bachchan knows English’ or ‘OMG, Shah Rukh Khan likes to take a plane when he has to travel abroad’.

The crux of the problem is not you guys sensationalizing Deepikas cleavage. The crux is you using it get those extra clicks by calling it an OMG moment when it appears to be a perfectly normal photograph of a woman in a dress. And not to mention that you guys drew a red circle around it just to make it obvious. Are you guys catering to a sperm bank? If you are then it’s a pretty pathetic effort to objectify a woman. If you are doing it, then do a good job of it, will you? We don’t need your stupid sensationalism coz if we want to see a nude woman or a provocative pose there are magazines and media available for that. Are you competing with them for clicks? Maybe you are. And spare us your point of view coz I doubt if anyone is buying it. Why do you have to make a sensation out of Shweta Prasad Basu’s sex racket and then right next to it, run a slide show of other actresses who were involved in sex rackets. Or why should you put up a pic of Yana Gupta showing her private parts and then run another slide show next to it with other actresses that have done something similar???? It’s just down right PATHETIC. Do you guys even care about what you are reporting? I mean this is irresponsible reporting to its core but then I keep forgetting that you guys compete with SUN magazine in terms of crass content.

Not that this one article of mine will make any sense to you and not that it will make any difference but understand this. You guys think you make stars, then get this thru into your heads that WE make YOU. If we choose to boycott you, then you can publish it on your front page. Now that will be a real OMG moment. ‘OMG readers boycott Times Of India’

She came, she saw, He Conquered. Yet again :)

The gates opened. As he drove past the Lobby, he saw a beautifully decorated idol of Lord Ganesh. Today is the day when the entire country celebrates Ganesh Chaturthi. It is said to be his birthday. They say he is the one who listens to prayers. Across India, in most temples if not all, before devotees pay their obeisance to their revered God, the idol of Lord Ganesh sits omnipotent at the entrance. Such is his power and reverence.  

The various residents of the apartment complex had gathered down at the podium for the customary ‘Arti’ which would take place every day for the next 10 days. As he parked his car in the basement and climbed up the stairs to the podium, he decided to join the gathering for a few minutes. A thought in his head resonated ‘Come on man, you really don’t attend these Poojas and all, do you? You stopped believing in this particular God or that particular God sometime back, didn’t you? I mean what good is it to go to one particular God for doing well in your examinations and another for doing well in your professionally. What’s the point praying to one God to give you a good Wife and another to keep you in good health. ‘ . He dismissed the thoughts. Everyone had gathered around the idol of Lord Ganesha. There were sweets, some dried fruits and the usual Pooja thali.  And as usual, there was a lot of chattering (gosh, how much we Indians love chattering J ). There were at least 4-5 announcements of ‘ok, we are starting the Arti’. All of them were false starts.

He suddenly realized that there was a meeting due between someone and the Lord Himself. It hadn’t happened in almost 4 years and maybe it was about time. He excused himself from the gathering and took the elevator to his apartment. He strode in and told his mother, who was lying in bed, ‘Come on, you’re wanted downstairs.’ She frowned ‘For what? ‘ ‘Public demand, they want you to be a part of the Arti, so chalo, let’s go’. She refused at first ‘I’m not coming! Not in the mood to attend an Arti’ She seemed adamant but he insisted, rather rudely, ‘Listen, don’t act difficult, there are at least 3-4 people downstairs who have asked about you, so you better come, it’ll be worth your while.’ Sometimes, being assertive to the point of being rude is the only way out. She didn’t say anything. Getting up and walking to the wheelchair was getting easier for her now as her health had improved in the past few weeks. it was still a challenging task, though. She wrapped her shawl around herself using the one functional hand that she had and slowly moved towards the wheelchair using her walker.

It had been so long since she had attended an Arti. She felt numb. After all, throughout her life, the Lord was always with her and she knew that He was always watching over her and her loved ones. Be it in her handbag, on her desk, in her room, in the Car, He was always there. And yet, as she suffered one mishap after another all He did was watch. She was bitter, hurt, weak, broken and battered by all the misfortune she had suffered in the form of bad health. First the fractures, then the Brain stroke which rendered her right side almost useless, then the knee gave way, and earlier in the year, she had contacted some nasty infections which took months to heal. Why me? She would often ask looking up with a sense of abandonment. Anger would swell up within her and over time a sense of sadness and disappointment enveloped her. It almost seemed like a vicious permanent embrace. What would she do when she saw The Lord now? What would she say to Him? Would she break down? Would she maintain a stony silence? What would she do?

As her son wheeled her out of the elevator and onto the podium, she was warmly greeted by everyone. The Arti has started and everyone was clapping to the hymns that were being sung in the name of Lord Ganesh. She sat on the wheelchair, her eyes closed, having her private conversation with Him, no doubt. The plate was then passed on to her and after an initial bit of hesitation, she held the plate in front of Him and started circling it around the idol. A solitary tear rolled down as she completed three cycles clockwise and anti-clockwise. She handed back the plate to the next person in the gathering and softly cried out ‘Thank you’. Her conversation with Him had ended. Or had it been re-initiated? As she began interacting with the others, it appeared as though all the remorse, bitterness and sadness seemed to have been dissolved. The smile was back on her face. She was busily discussing weekend plans with the others and had some ‘prasad’ as well. 

When it was time to go, she promised the gathering that she would come on all days. All 10 days! As he wheeled her back up, her son asked her ‘So, glad you came?’ She immediately beamed ‘Absolutely!!! Very glad to see Him again. After all this while’. He smiled to himself. He didn’t ask her about what she prayed or whether she had a conversation with the Lord. He knew that was a strictly private matter and was off limits even for him. Didn’t matter though. What mattered was that she came. What mattered was that she saw. And what mattered was that He conquered. He conquered her fears, her sadness and her sense of inevitability. Yet again J

Give a break to the King of Crass-Yo-yo Honey Singh

 The other day, I happened to read an article by one of those annoying parents who kept ranting on and on about how Yo-Yo Honey Singh had degraded our culture with his crass.  The tone of the letter is dripping with sarcasm. He was lamenting about how his 5-year old kid was being ‘exposed’ to the side effects of Vodka.  He goes on to thank Mr Singh for his contribution to music by providing us with soulful lyrics and lilting melodies. Ill leave it for you to read the entire letter here :

http://www.hindustantimes.com/entertainment/music/thanks-for-the-crassness-an-open-letter-to-honey-singh-from-a-parent/article1-1242802.aspx

Now don’t I just love taking the case of such people. SO that’s exactly what Im going to do. Mr Parent, let me take you back 10-12 years. Please read the lyrics of a song called PIMP by a singer named 50 Cents. This song became an all time hit and in many ways paved the way for more such stuff:

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P I M P

I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfuckin' P I M P

Now shorty, she in the club, she dancin' for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her 'cause they wanna

I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear sayin' they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar, tryin' to get a drink up out her

Got that?OKAYYY GREATTT.. Now lets go 20 years ago . The lyrics below are from Emimem, no doubt a cult singer with exceptionally meaningful lyrics (and I mean it when I say that) but look at the incredibly floral vocabulary:

Hi, my name is, my name is
(What? Who?)
My name is Slim Shady…
Hi, my name is, my name is
(Huh? What?)
My name is Slim Shady

Ahem, excuse me
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids, do you like violence?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails
Through each one of my eyelids?
(Uh, huh)

Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did?
(Yeah, yeah)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is?
(Huh?)

My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate
(Umm)
And Dr. Dre said, "Slim Shady you a basehead"
Uh, uhh, So why's your face red? Man you wasted…..

And so on and so forth. Do you remember any of this stuff, I’ll bet you do. Aah now you’ll tell me those were different? Really, were they? ‘Hi kids do you like violence, wane see me stick nine inch nails through my eye-lids’ is heaven right??? Or better still  'I spit a little G man, and my game got her. A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada’ THESE ARE GOSPEL, RIGHT?  We grew up to these in case you didn’t notice.

And you really believe that Bollywood and the Indian Music scenario were patron saints before the arrival of Mr Yo-yo??? Let’s take a look,shall we? You thank Mr Singh for making Sarkailo Khatiya and Choli ke peeche sound like a bhajan!!! Excuse meeeeee!!! Those songs were bhajans even at that time. This is what I call selective amnesia. That was a period when Bollywood was churning our more double meaning songs than India was churning out newborns. Not to mention suggestive dance steps.

·         Have you seen Govinda’s dance steps for aa- aah-eeh from Raja Babu???

·         Have you heard a song called Gutur Gutur from the movie Dalaal. Mind you, this one was on the top of Superhit Muqable for a long time??

      Have you seen and heard ANil Kapoor and Juhi Chawla gyrate to 'main maal gaadi tooh dhakka laga'???

·         And pray, have you heard ANY of Dada Kondke’s songs???

 These are just a drop in the ocean of slush and filth that Bollywood has inherited over the decades. Oh and wait, how can I forget the infamous Bhojpuri ‘humari bhaujayee tumhari lugaai’ kind of songs and movies that not just prevail but thrive as much today as they did several years ago.

The problem does not lie with Mr Yo-yo. The problem lies with people like you who want a scapegoat simply because you find it difficult to ‘control’ your children. You feel that your child might get influenced by Yo-yo’s songs but he won’t get influenced when Salman Khan holds Jacqueline Fernandez’s skirt by his teeth? Or when Kareena sways suggestively to ‘Halkat Jawaani’? or when three idiotic actors sing and dance to ‘second jawaani’ from Cocktail?????

Give me a break or better still give yourself one. Objectification of women has been an evil in society for a long time but I’ll leave that debate for another day.  But if you’re going to blame poor Yo-yo Honey Singh for the contaminating today’s music world, then I’m asking you, what is left to contaminate? So no matter how eloquently you express your apparent lack of faith in yo-yo’s songs, and no matter how intense your sarcasm, the fact of the matter is that you cannot kill what's already dead. And one last thing, don’t fret about your elder son not appreciating a Madan Mohan classic. It’s not his fault, it’s yours. Why? Because he had his guard up the moment you tried to wean him away from Yo-yo’s songs so even if he did like it he would never have admitted it. Think you’re smart? Sorry, kids are smarter.

Uncharted Territory

Steven Henderson was one of the few renowned professors that lectured at the Southampton Institute. He was the Professor of Strategy at the Institute and known to be a tough task-master who rarely displayed much emotion.  Many of the alumni, who had managed to extend their visas to remain in the UK using some loophole or the other in the system, had further warned me about him being grumpy and cynical most of the time.

In the field of Strategy, he was known as one of Michael Porter’s most severe critics. Porters Five Forces Theory to understand Market Dynamics was hailed as one of the game-changing theories of its time and many still feel that it’s quite relevant. Henderson, though, felt that the theory was too simplistic and has debated its relevance at several Domestic and International forums on Strategy. Steven was due to impart knowledge to our group of MBA wannabes towards the end of the course.  He was one of the lecturers for our module named Management and Change and focused primarily on how leaders characteristics had a heavy influence on the overall nature and character of the organization.

Steven believed in books that carried myriad theories from various Management Experts but he was more keen on making a visual impact on his students. He started his lectures often by showing us a case study in the form of a movie. And not surprisingly, despite seeing the movie for the umpteenth time, it would still excite him. What excited him more, though, was the individual students interpretation of the various scenarios in the movie. He would always pass snide remarks for those who were almost entirely bookish. For example, if a student said ‘oh, this scene in the movie relates to what Johnson and Scholls said in their book Organizational Behaviour’, he wouldn’t exactly scoff at it, but he would make it quite obvious that he was disinterested in drawing comparisons between scenarios in his movie and the most obvious book that everyone read during their courses. He clearly wanted more. He wanted us to explore as much as we could and gather as much knowledge from the library rather than restricting it to one or two books. And boy, he could tell the difference between a student who has spent good quality time in the Library vis-à-vis a student who has just gone through one or two ‘popular’ books.

As his sessions came to a close, he, like all other lecturers/professors, gave us the standard assignment that the course leader had prepared. It involved a case study that was circulated a week before the assignment was handed over to us. We were to read, re-read and again re-read the case study and answer the questions in the end by correlating it to what we learnt from Steven’s classes. I vividly remember the sheer disinterest on Steven’s face as he went through the motions of giving instructions on what to do with the paper. What he thought was almost up in the form of a bubble, ‘Yeah well, you have your assignment, go ahead and do what you’ve been told, I couldn’t really care less’.

As he left the room, I decided to have a word with him regarding the assignment. His first question was “Is there anything you didn’t understand in my instructions?” I smiled and told him there weren’t any simply because I didn’t want to do the assignment that was given by the course leader. He seemed startled, ‘Well then, what do you want to do?’ I had his attention. I requested if I could do something a little more unconventional. He folded his hand and said “Go on, I’m listening”. I requested if I could scrap the existing assignment and instead create a new one from one of his favourite case study movies and use one of his favourite books called ‘The Neurotic Organization’ by Manfred Du Vries and Danny Miller. I would test the theories in the book against the situations in the movie. A few others warned me not to try and be ‘over-smart’ and ‘toe the line’ but when have I ever listened!!!

He stared at me blankly for a few seconds then let out a subtle smile and said ‘What’s your name again?’ Jaideep Gandhi, I said. “Jaideep, do you know that by doing this you are actually breaking the rules?” I guess I looked slightly flustered I guess but before I could say anything he quickly interjected “and that’s perfectly fine with me. Just so that you know, the movie and the book are amongst my favourites so just make sure you justice to them”. I promised him I would. Two weeks after submitting, we were called on by the course leader to collect the corrected coursework. When my turn came, she sat me down. I was a tad nervous because although I was sure of a decent mark for the assignment, I was not sure how the course leader would interpret my unconventional decision. She gave me back my assignment and said “You attempted something that no one did in your class and few have previously tried. And guess what, it’s paid off. Steven was delighted with the coursework and gave you a 70 and not surprisingly it’s the first time you’ve got a 70 all throughout your course. Well Done, young man”. I was elated. A 70 in a British MBA is equivalent to the 90’s here in India. Unless the coursework is exemplary, a student’s chances of scoring above 60 are few and far between. I looked at the cover page and in the comments section there was a something written in large capital Letter with a smile. It read ‘A VERY GOOD ATTEMPT. KEEP IT UP’.

Something happened that day. The experience changed me from being a person who was happy to be part of convention into a person who would love to venture into uncharted territory. Over the past decade, I have made most of my decisions against vox populi. Not because I'm defiant as a person. I'm not. But because, I felt the overwhelming need to push my limits and one cannot do that by remaining in one's comfort zone all the time. Be it my decision to stay back in India just a couple of hours before the departure of my plane to the UK; Be it my foray into Real Estate ('You're no good with numbers and you are too introverted to manage professional relationships' is what popular opinion was); Be it my move to Pune ('Why leave Chennai which is a much bigger market; besides you are well-established here' was the popular opinion); Be it my move to Legion ('You must be out of your mind to start off on your own and that too in a city which is relatively unknown to you' and 'You have no idea of the perils of going without business for months', were popular opinions. I'm glad I went with what I felt. Not only has it paid off richly, it has helped me take more seemingly ridiculous decisions :D 

Coming back to Steven, I am not in touch with him but I do believe that somewhere amongst the thousands of students he interacts with, he will most certainly remember me J

Anger: That quintessential Human Emotion

“I can feel your anger. It gives you focus. It makes you stronger.” – Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith

The above quote is obviously part of a larger dialogue and must not be interpreted out of context. Anger is largely seen as a negative emotion. One that supposedly stops you from thinking rationally, causes harm to you and your near and dear ones physically and mentally Time and again, we’ve been told by our scriptures, holy men, Gurus, and priests that Anger must be kept in control all the time. That we should never give in to it. Even the all-powerful Yoda of Star Wars says ‘Fear leads to Anger, Anger leads to Hate, Hate leads to Suffering’. Rhonda Bryne simplifies things further by categorizing negative and positive emotions in her rather generic table in The Secret. No prizes for guessing where Anger finds itself.

I beg to differ on this generalist and needless admonishment of this much-abused emotion that we call Anger. Anger is as important an emotion as any other. It has many synonyms such as Fury, Rage, Wrath, Indignation, Livid, Seethe all of which exemplify the degree of anger that an individual or a group may feel. But on the whole, it is one of the most necessary emotions a human being experiences. It is a perfectly healthy state of mind as it helps us cut through pretty easily across what works for us and what doesn’t. It helps in being taken seriously. On innumerable occasions, people are pushed to a point by various others in their lives where they just explode into an uncontrollable rage. Their tolerance levels are tested to the maximum and then guess what happens. They snap. So anger begins where tolerance ends.  For example, what triggered the mass movement against the perpetrators of Nirbhaya. Mass Anger and Public Outrage. Had everybody been tolerant about it, I doubt if justice would have prevailed. 

This morning’s newspaper screams with an article on the International outrage that has erupted over the hanging of two minor girls who were first raped and then hanged on a tree branch. Do you really believe that approaching such a heartless crime with candles and debates is going to work? Absolutely not. Anger is the key. It is what will give you the focus to stop whats going on. Whats more, it will instill fear in the hearts of such criminals. Also, what leads to Large scale Civil Wars and revolutions is Public Anger (Egypt for example). When the supressed will tolerate no more. When the downtrodden choose to rise. All of these are primarily driven by anger. The bottom-line is that the seed of rebellion and justice is sown by Anger and that it is a deep-rooted aversion for any of the seven sins and beyond.

In another context, Anger pumps you up to do your best in a given situation because you have reached a point where you are driven by a certain need to either get even (read revenge), or to ensure that this does not happen to you again. Anger pushes you into accepting challenges which normally you would not take if you were thinking rationally and more often than not, it fuels you to overcome that challenge. So there you go, Anger aint so bad after all. And mind you, if you don’t get angry, it means you are not human. Even the mostly highly evolved beings do get angry. What they do with their anger is another story altogether. Even the Gods get angry so why shouldnt human beings??? 

Let me end this article by telling you this. Don’t ever get angry on yourself for getting angry. Welcome the emotion just like you welcome all other emotions. Your anger is trying to tell you something that you wouldnt otherwise listen to. And yes, I do agree with Palpatine, anger makes you strong, it makes you focused and most importantly, it shows that you are human and you are not to be taken for granted all the time. 

Two Examples...

Two examples

This article is simple. I am going to give you two simple yet very powerful examples of how losers think and how winners think.

How Losers think: For all of you who watch/follow the IPL (Indian Premier League) this season, you would have noted a certain player named Glenn Maxwell. Maxwell has been unstoppable. He has systematically and almost single-handedly demolished opposition bowling attacks and taken Kings XI Punjab right to the top of the table. 

Now notice the hype that been created about ‘how to stop Glenn Maxwell’ by the Commentators, Cricket Experts, the pretty Anchors, and almost every journalist who writes. So, the next time you’re watching the ‘Extra Innings show’ just before a match featuring Kings XI Punjab, be prepared for inane yet lengthy discussions regarding Maxwell’s batting. There will be a lot of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ about his game and the way he plays. And mind you, all of this is well-deserved. Furthermore, everybody is going on and on about how Maxwell needs to be stopped. I’m also quite sure that using their good-for-nothing iPads, opposition coaches and strategic advisors must be spending more time in analyzing/identifying any weaknesses in Maxwell’s game than on their own team’s improvement. What kind of deliveries get him out, where are his weaknesses, etc etc. Now this is where the problem lies.

Rather than being obsessed with Glenn Maxwell, why can’t the focus be on improving the teams overall bowling/batting performance. Instead of planning his downfall or rather wishing for his downfall, why not psyche yourselves up to thinking that no matter what the opposition scores, we will overhaul it. Today, Maxwell is playing like a legend. Tomorrow, he is bound to have his share of failures. Are teams going to implement strategies based on a single batsman? Why not strengthen your own team that looks at an opposing force and says ‘bring it on’. That way you build a collective belief to take on anything that the opposition throws at you rather than hoping and praying that Maxwell has a bad day on the field. No team can have a 100 percent record of wins but a team can have 100 percent on the field.

How Winners think: Now in stark contrast, let me tell you another story from one of my all-time favourite movies, Rocky. Rocky is known to be the quintessential fighter with a never-say-die attitude. In his 6 movies, Rocky has taken on several opponents many of whom are much stronger and bigger than him.  What makes him succeed? Its sheer determination and will that makes him overcome one opponent after another. In the last of his movies, Rocky’s son confronts him when he finds out that Rocky has taken up the challenge to fight the reigning World Heavy Weight Champion Mason Dixon in a friendly exhibition match. His son loathes the decision accusing his father of overshadowing him all though his life. He despised being known as Rocky’s son and struggled to make a name for himself. He pleads ith Rocky not to take this up. This is Rocky’s response. I’m quoting the dialogue.

“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now, if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain’t you. You’re better than that!

Rocky's old trainer analyses his body and tells him that since he's old and relatively less nimble on his feet, he has to take every opportunity to strike Dixon. He says 'So, what we'll be calling on is good ol' fashion blunt force trauma. Horsepower. Heavy-duty, cast-iron, piledriving punches that will have to hurt so much they'll rattle his ancestors. Every time you hit him with a shot, it's gotta feel like he tried kissing the express train. Yeah! Let's start building some hurtin' bombs!

Good ol' Rocky ends up losing the fight but not before Mason tells him he's a 'crazy old man'. He trains hard, he loses, but in his own eyes and in the eyes of the huge crowd that lands up to watch him, Rocky is a winner. All the way. 

So that's what the IPL teams should be thinking. How do we win despite Maxwell firing on all cylinders? Not, how do we stop him. That's how winning is done.That no matter how good the opposition may be, Ill put beat them. 

Phony illness

‘Stay with me’, I whispered. ‘You can’t abandon me like this’. My voice was shaky and choked. ‘I need you now more than ever. There was no response from my dear friend. Only an uncomfortable silence. I googled to find out the root cause of the problem. There were so many illnesses which had similar symptoms. How on earth was I going to get a proper diagnosis? And there wasn’t much time. The heart beat was erratic. The pulse rate was even worse. Vital signs were unstable. All diagnostic tests reports were providing a grim picture. Could this be the end? I shuddered at the thought.

I was desperate to find a solution to this illness which threatened to disrupt my life beyond my comprehension. I started hallucinating. I would be ruined and would feel abandoned. I would be heart-broken. It would take me months to recover. Life would just not be the same. There was an ominous cough and a scream followed by a splutter. This just did not look good. I don’t know how much longer this would last. Not long, I figured. 

As Google flooded my screen with one irrelevant search result after another, on page 4, the solution hit me like a truck. I found the virus and what’s more, next to it was a list of advertisements from many Doctors who believed them to be one-stop solutions to all ailments. There was Dr Kaspersky who was being endorsed by a leading cricketer. There was Dr McAfee who has been in the business the longest. There was Dr Norton, who again claimed to know his patients inside out.   As I consulted with one of the experts, the root cause of the infection was detected. It was a virus that had affected the central nervous system and had started to cause multiple organ failure. The medication was prescribed and administered by myself. Now I had to wait, patient yet anxious. My thoughts wandered to all the good times I had shared with my friend. There were also some not-so-god times when I threw him repeatedly on the floor in anger for no fault of his. Would the medication work? Will I be able to save him?

In a few minutes, the heart rate stabilized as did the pulse rate. In an hour, I ran the diagnostic tests again. The results were heartening. The vital signs were back to being stable. I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I looked at my phone and smiled. Good to have you back my friend.

This is the story of our lives when our mobile smart phone falls ill :D Hope you enjoyed reading it.

Kalki Koechlin, you've got to be kidding me :D

Is Kalki Koechlin the voice of todays woman? Dear, oh Dear

Kalki Koechlin? Things have gotten so bad in our society that we have to get someone like Kalki Koechlin to rant about issues that women face in our so called patriarchal society???? Seriously, is this supposed to be the voice of ‘today’s’ woman’??? You women must be really desperate!!! Ignorant, nonsensical, and laughable are three words that come to my mind after reading her ‘rant’.

So, I’m going to humour myself now. Let me start from the beginning. She’s went on and on about how God created Man, and everything after that was named Mankind, WoMan etc etc. Well Miss (or is she still Mrs Kashyap), you really should’ve done your homework. We, and I mean all things created on this planet are a result of a supernova explosion including the gold, silver, platinum and diamonds (aah, well, all of you so identify with these metals and stones don’t you???). I guess you woudn’t know much about that now would you. Obviously not, coz you’re so caught up about your ‘rant’. Well, hope this educates you a wee bit.

Next, you say ‘they’ married off Draupadi to 5 pandavas! THEY??? Errrrr, well, there was no ‘they’. It was their MOTHER, Kunti, who said ‘whatever you have brought home, share it amongst all of you. Heard that? It was a woman’s stupid comment that led to Draupadi having 5 husbands. You think it’s no fun, hell no, of course it isn’t. We men don’t like sharing our women, never mind what you see on Porn. We don’t like our sizes being compared, period. So there you are. I wonder what sadistic pleasure Kunti derived by not taking back her words(which she could have so easily done. HAHAHA…man, that woman must have some imagination to continue letting her five children ‘enjoy’ one woman.  Come on Kalki, you can do better than that. At least while you’re here in India, do get your mythological references right. Or maybe you can’t, coz your rant is as superficial as your Bollywood performances.

You’re talking about Aphrodite, Cleopatra, Persephone, and a host of other women in Politics. I roll my eyes. My My! Did you just do a google search and prepare this laundry list? Hmm…well Ill ignore those ‘rants’ but I can’t help rubbing my hands in glee when you talk about queens and goddesses never being rescued or no prince or king going down on one knee. This is such a laugh-riot. Mind you, your speech has been called emotional and inspirational. And I’m sure you must have got a standing ovation for this speech. Ill come to fairy tales later. This much ignorance is seriously hilarious.

History and Mythology is plagued with the indecisiveness of women leading to terrible wars. Sure, now you’ll say that it’s because of Man insatiable ego that these wars happened. Let me give you a few instances.

I’ll start with the Ramayan:

Who filled Queen Kaikeyi’s mind with poison against Ram taking over the throne? Pootna ( A WOMAN MAID)

Who was responsible for Ram being banished to the forest? Kaikeyi. And the poor guy went without questioning anyone’s motives. That’s devotion.

Who incited Ravan to capture Sita as revenge? Shoopanakha (by now, you’ve guessed. A woman)

And you’ve got the gall to say no one came to rescue you????? For christs sake, Hanuman came to Ashok Vatika to free Sita. Sita insisted that Ram come and save her. Wow!!! She wanted war and she got it. Poor Ravan!. He got killed for nothing. He never even touched her.  

Indeed, the Ramayan does go on to say that Ram got her to do an agni pariksha to prove her ‘purity’ which of course was a stupid thing to do and she was spot on by walking out on him after that. But tell me something, when your brother-in-law makes a lakshman rekha and strictly instructs you NOT to cross it, why the hell can’t you women listen? And then you have the audacity to tell us that we don’t rescue you when we traverse across pretty much the entire subcontinent ????

What about Helen? Everybody knows what caused the Iliad? Even worse, poor Hector lost his life and his wife (in that order) fighting for an indecisive woman. she eventually went back to Menelaus (that’s the real version, don’t go by the movie Troy). I mean, you women are so indecisive and when we men make our decisions, you crib about it? Hello???

Coming back to the Mahabharat, Draupadi got so furious with a comment made by Karna when he said that only a prostitute could be with 5 men at a time. He’s right. You can’t have five ‘husbands’ and expect to be respected. Take a walk, lady. That aint happening with us men. And you know what? It’s a lot worse with Women.

Now for the Fairy Tales. Sigh. You really should not have ventured into this territory. Shall we take the example of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves? Who was Snow White’s enemy? Her very own step mother. Who were the kind souls who offered her shelter? The Dwarves.  Who poisoned her? Her step-mother. WTF, you women are your worst enemies and you blame us men for your problems?

How about Cinderalla? Who makes life miserable for her? Hepsiba and Grizella. Who searches the entire town for her other missing shoe? The Prince. And you say that no prince went down on his knees to propose to you women? Ever heard of the love story of Robin Hood and Maid Mariam? I know you haven’t. It doesn’t surprise me.  

Let’s move towards our modern days. When we see the ridiculous Tele serials that dominate most of our hindi channels Colors, Star Plus, Sony, what do we see?  The conniving aunt, the manipulative servant, the promiscuous younger sister-  Who makes all these characters? Ekta Kapoor. Yup, she’s a woman.  In the name of Money, these serials are made. Guess who watches them? That’s right, women!!!!! 

The other problem with you women is that you have a special talent for the bad men. Yup ,that’s right. The more successful and beautiful you are, the worse you like being treated.  You date jerks and wimps and wuses and then when they behave like jerks, wimps and wuses you get your mascara smudged and not to mention the occasional black eye. You then seek refuge with a kind and loving good man to get back your lost confidence and voila, what do you do next? Either get back with the jerk or find another bigger jerk. Oh please, please, stop the whimpering! You asked for it.

When it comes to Indian marriages, I unequivocally say that most marriages break-up because of the MOTHER-IN-LAW. And by now,  Kalki, with IQ levels being lower than the room’s temperature, please guess that she is a woman. Eureka! Well done. MILs can’t handle their son ‘dividing’ their attention. And women say that men have big egos. Yeah right!

I could go on and on and on but Im gonna stop here coz I’d rather laugh my ass off at the ignorance and stupidity of women like Kalki than take them seriously. And that’s because, a patriarchal society isn’t the ONLY bane of women. Women are women’s worst enemies.  In one of my previous articles, I had written about how we men have let down our female counterparts collectively as a species. Yes we have.  I still whole-heartedly admit that men are extremely flawed and have a lot of making up to do when it comes to our image and reputation with women. We need to correct ourselves and our belief system in Rural as well as Urban regions. We need to treat women with respect. We need to stop female foeticide. We need to educate women. We need to free women. We need to be loyal to our women. We need to stop abusing (physically and mentally) women. We need to control our egos. We absolutely have to let women make their own choices. And in all probability, we men will do it for ourselves and not for you. Because as a sub-species, you are the more indecisive one. We are not.

We are ready to walk that extra mile for you. To do what it takes to win your love and respect. To relinquish a lot of what we want to make you happy (aah I sound like such a martyr). To let you lead the kind of life that you wish to lead and be there if and when you need us (believe me, you do). But if Kalki Koechlin is what we are going to end up with, then we just don’t think it’s worth it. 

A Teacher like no other :) PART 1

4/20, 7/20, 14/50, 29/10. Believe it or not, these were my scores in mathematical tests during the 10^th grade in my schooling days. I had barely made it to the 10^th grade . I was warned tha thte 10^th grade was the most important grade for CBSE students and that there would be exams and tests practically every couple of weeks. I’ve never really feared numbers. But during that time, numbers, symbols and formulae would haunt me not just during the day but even in the nights. My sleep wasn’t spared. I would have nightmares of numbers chasing me, haunting admonishments of my mathematics teacher. It reached a stage where my teacher decided to have all the ‘dummies’ sit down for an hour after class and ‘interact’ with the brilliant students. No prizes for guessing that I was the leader of the ‘dummy’  pack. Not the most noteworthy of achievements. I had already started hating the subject. I mean, come on, it was coming in the way of my precious cricket time!!! Other kids would play and I would be racking my brains to figure out some ridiculous combination in Trignometry. Sin, Cos, Tan. Bleah!! And half the time, my question to my classmates was ‘Are we EVER going to use any of this in our real lives’. They wouldn’t answer. Most would go ‘tch tch tch’ and continue.

My parents tried sending me to coaching classes. But I was more interested in distracting other students than actually learning anything. I do believe that this was my way of ‘getting even’ with the subject. I was in a zone where I told myself that I would more and more people hate maths and that I would show the subject my middle finger after the 10^th grade (after which Maths ceases to be a compulsory subject). Just another year and half to go.I had to somehow make it past the pass mark of 40 out of 100. But back then, it seemed easier to get the sun to rise from the west.

When we were half way through the 10^th grade, my maths (the poor thing) teacher was genuinely worried. In our half-yearly tests, I had scored 23/100. The lowest in the class. She would plead, shout, scream, beg to try to find out what was wrong. But nope, I refused to improve. I was adamant. Mathematics had become my mortal enemy.  During the Parent-Teacher meeting, my teacher lamented that I would probably not even be allowed to take the board examinations if I went on like this. My scores in other subjects were fine.

And so my mom, the perennial fixer, spoke to one of her friends. She explained in detail my attitude regarding the subject. Her friend, a man named Ravindran, said that he knew someone who could ‘straighten me’. She warned him, though, coz I had already changed two tutors. He told her not to worry.

That weekend, when the bell rang, I was greeted by Mr Murugappan. He asked me ‘Are you Jaideep?’ I almost felt like saying ‘No, you’ve got the wrong house’, but my mom came out and welcomed him saying that she was expecting me. I looked at her quizzically, wondering what on earth was going on. Aah, got it. This is another one of her efforts. I said to myself ‘Okayyy, just play along’.  After a hot cup of tea, he sat me down. Now, Mr Murugappan was one of the most ordinary men I had ever interacted with. Right from his attire - a crumpled shirt and a pair of trousers which had clearly seen better days- to his means of Transport- the modest rickety old bicycle.

He introduced himself as the Head of Statistics in Presidency College, Chennai. I was like ‘whoa, and he comes here on a bicycle’. He then went on to tell us that his daughter was in the US. He had saved all his money to give her good education and preferred a simple life. Now that she was gone, he sought solace amongst his students, treating them as his own children. I was like ‘good luck with this one’.

Having narrated his story, the attention now turned to me. He asked me some very basic questions. There was no way I couldn’t answer them, they were that simple. I mean, not exactly, what is 2+2 but something more relevant to simple stuff that we learn in our 9^th grade. After his third question, he announced ‘madam, the boy is fine. There is nothing to worry about. I will take him under me, your worries are over.’ .Mom was elated. I was deflated. He fixed a time of 5-6pm every day for the first 2 months.  My play time just went out of the window for the umpteenth time.

Although I vividly recollect his entry into my life, I do not clearly remember the first few classes with him. I guess they were unremarkable. After about a week, he came home on a Saturday evening. I was playing but he called out to me. When I saw him, I was not happy. This was my play time and what on earth was he doing here on a weekend. I actually was rude enough to tell him that I was busy playing. He led out a throaty laugh and said ‘no problem, I will wait upstairs’. Whatever!!! I continued playing and after a good one hour I went back up. He was sitting with my mom and chatting away. As soon as he saw me, he said ‘looks like you’ve played hard today’. He then pointed to the dining table where I saw a packet. He said ‘I was at my friends house for a function, and I remembered that Jaideep likes sweets, so I bought some for you, I must leave now’. I was so embarrassed. He had come on a Saturday evening just to give me some freshly made stuff because he knew I liked it. I couldn’t even apologize. Mom too knew I was feeling bad but she and my grandmom didn’t say anything. Needless to say, the sweets were delicious. It was an ice-breaker of sorts which made me soften my stand. Towards him, but not towards the subject.

TO BE CONTINUED…