The Chains On Our Ankles

There was a time when most middle-class parents wanted their kids to be either doctors or engineers. For a few progressive minded parents, 'MBA' was a magic word. I'm not sure about the other parts of the country, but in the one where I grew up, children were literally branded and prepared to become doctors or engineers. The respect that seemingly came with these professions had such a nasty impact on the kids, that some of their childhood has been completely sacrificed in the process of decking them up. Now, I'm not telling you anything that's new. And you may argue that these things don't happen anymore. But I had a shocking discovery when I went to my native town to celebrate my son's first birthday in May this year.

A cousin of mine, a girl of 16, has just written her Class-10 board exams. Two days after the last day of the exam, she started going to private tuition. When I asked her what these classes were for, I was told that they were for her Plus-2 studies. Apparently, engineering was such a sought after field, that these set of tutors (private, mind you) were overbooked every year and if she wouldn't start her classes early, she would not get a berth. When I asked her, how did she know that she would even pass her board exams, she replied casually, "if I don't pass, I'm better off dead."

Perhaps in a fit of scientific miracle, or perhaps by some higher entity, this world was created with vast opportunities. We, as intelligent species, have been endowed with the power to live our life to the fullest in beautiful little ways that serve us best. At 16, girls fall in love. At 16, they discover the beauties of the world. At 16, a girl isn't better off dead because she could not pass an examination. There are higher tests in this world, which she will have to take. The test of motherhood, the test of ethical dilemmas, the test of choosing between right and wrong, the test of sacrifice. The matriculation exam is quite insignificant as compared to these tests. My wrath is not so much over the girl. My angst is against her parents and teachers. Someone or the other must have giver her this idea. Who was it? I'll never know. But I do know that whoever that person was, he is a criminal of the highest order.

Clenching my teeth, when I asked my cousin as to why she had to wake up at 5am in the morning and go to her private tuition, she said this, and I quote - "Sir takes three batches. The he goes to school. The third batch in the morning would have been good, but then he is usually unmindful with that batch. He rushes things, because he has to get ready for school. At dawn, his mind is fresh and he teaches well too." When I told her why she needed private classes in the first place, she said, "if I don't write Sir's notes, he won't give me marks."

I was very saddened that day. Because no dictum, no law, no rule can stop a human being from being base. It can at best try and dissuade one from being so. But as my father once had told me, all laws in the world are founded on the basic principle, that all human beings are fundamentally good. Schools exist to impart education. Their job is very important. They are like the masons who lay the first bricks of a skyscraper. Now, for whatever reasons, the teacher in question was clearly not doing his job at work. Moreover, he had created a threatening situation for even those kids who do not have to rely on a class lecture for education. He simply wouldn't give them passing marks, even if they write all the right answers. Let's stoop lower. Even at home, where he is taking money from students to impart education in the form of one-size-fits-all notes, he becomes unmindful because he has to shave and get ready for school, where he is not doing his job anyway.

I spoke to the girl's parents. They said, "What can we do? This is how it is here. If she doesn't get good marks, no good school will take her. How will she pass her engineering entrance exams?"

So, I told them about some of the best people I have known, who received education, not "NOTES". Some of these people were brilliant in studies, some were not. But all of them, without exception, are happy. I told them about my friend Anupam, who never stood first in class, but has a wonderful job today. There's my friend Bappa, who could never pay attention in class, but was very good at reading books. He is doing very well for himself today. My friend Niraj, who had utter disrespect for conventional forms of education has opened up a company and is doing groundbreaking work on email collaboration today. My friend Anirban and Nidhi run an organization which helps budding entrepreneurs achieve their dreams. My friend Vikash runs a successful online library and bookstore. My friend Abhishek is a successful playwright and director. What's also important to remember is that not all of these folks have succeeded in the first place. I remember reading a heart-wrenching email from a friend of mine who set up an industrial unit, which failed. But he took up an alternate career option, and today, when I look at his picture with his wife and kid, he looks very happy. My friend Chanchal, who I can write an entire book about, was never to conform to norms. Everyone thought that he was good for nothing. Chanchal is a chef at the Ritz in Toronto today. I can go on and on and on. I have realized one thing, off late - in life, we may have chains around our legs, but those chains are never locked. If you have courage, if you are passionate about something, if you think you are good at something, you will find a way to take off those chains and live life happily. For the rest of the days that I stayed in my native town, I tried my best to drive this message into my cousin's and her parents' minds. I don't know if that'll help, but I tried. Perhaps, a day will soon come, when sitting happy somewhere, my cousin will reflect back at what she told me that day and laugh out loud. And how I wish that that day her "Sir" (noun - used as a respectful way of addressing a man - Oxford English Dictionary) could hear her laughter.

Top 5 Videos I Watch After a Bad Day in Office

We all have them, don't we? A bad decision, an unnecessary argument, the lousy boss, the nincompoop of a client, the stupidity of it all. Rat-race, visibility, boring meetings, desperate loud-mouthed participation in such meetings by know-it-all's, pointed questions with sarcastic undertones, business as usual, subject matter expertise, blah, blah and more yawnish blah. Sometimes, I just sit there, staring into the void, like a zombie, and recall a nice piece of music that I heard a long time ago, or a thrilling scene from Hitchcock's movies, or a nice dish my wife cooked for me, and more often than not, Limu's smile. And then, I just slow down and step outside the rat race. I watch as my fellow rats zoom past me, even those who I had left behind. And I say to myself, "I don't give an effin damn."

But not always do I manage to not let it affect me. I'm not aerodynamically perfect, and I cannot always dodge shit. Sometimes, it does hit me. On such particularly bad days in office, when I'm really down in the dumps, I tend to watch something nice on Youtube. I have noticed that I often go back to the same videos, and I thought I'll share these with you.

#Five:   The sweetness of the Piano

I discovered this video on Youtube quite accidentally, and was immediately attracted to it. Why? Because it is perhaps the best rendition of a beautiful song by my favourite music director. I had always liked the Piano, as a majestic yet sweet instrument, and was amazed at how teachers would say, "Curl your fingers, like a tunnel." Look at how easily the artist plays the song, as if he knows the role of every single note of the piece. Not a single note is off-key or out of place. And the composition: I don't want to commit sacrilege by saying anything about it.

#Four:   "Main to ishtick rakhta hoon"

He is a forgotten comedian. Seriously, how many people remember Jagdeep? But everyone remembers Soorma Bhopali. In a 3+ hour movie, his role must have been what, 10 minutes? But those 10 minutes are so precious, so neatly done, the comic timing is so perfect, the diction and intonation are so funny, that it takes my breath away, every time I watch this video. I particularly crack up at the expression on his face at 1:42 when he says 'haan bhai?' That singular expression has fear, anger, nervousness and sorrow all built right into itself. Absolutely classic!

#Three:   "I keel you"

Look at the number of hits on this video to gauge its popularity. What's interesting is that a lot of people watch it for the laughs. I do too, but I am more amazed by the art of ventriloquism. I got interested in the subject by reading a short story by the great cinema director Satyajit Ray. Isn't it amazing how Jeff Dunham does it? The item itself has racist undertones, but if you can ignore that, this is a wonderful piece of pure art. To fully understand the context, also watch Dunham's items on another of his characters named Walter.

#Two:   Putting my mind to rest

Roshan, the grandfather of the six-fingered Roshan, is the composer of this beautiful song, and Sahir Ludhianvi is the poet (now-a-days, we have lyricists, not poets). The words of this song, accompanied by the suitably soft music, act like a balm on my bruises, and I can literally feel all my pain going away. As an artist, I am an emotional man. But nothing stirs my emotion more than music. When I have had a particularly bad day in office, I listen to this song at night, without fail.

#One:   "It's how the sailors used to find their way home"

[You have to, simply have to, watch all four parts of the video, the entire 20 min episode to understand what a powerful message it delivers. I found a lot of answers to my questions in this episode]

Can I tell you something? I don't watch this video often. Sometimes, when I have a really, REALLY bad day in office, and I mean a really not-good day, I watch this episode of Wonder Years. I don't watch it because it has such a tremendous amount of impact on me, that I fear I'll do something, like perhaps give up my job or something. It makes me swell up from inside and rebel. And curiously, it also calms me down. I end up making peace with life. I realize that everyone has bad days, and one just gets over it, and moves on. And every single time I watch this video, I remember my father. And then, I remember my son. Then, with a smile on my lips, I have a good night's sleep, so that I can go to office the next day.

Entrepreneurship

For a lazy bum like yours truly, who has a dangerous thing (a.k.a little knowledge), doing something on one's own, by itself is quite a scary proposition. The first thing that puts me off about being entrepreneurial, right at the outset, is the bloody spelling of the very term. I'm like, yeah, right, thanks for the encouragement, right there. I needed THAT spelling in my life to work this out. But when I look back, I realize I have always tried to do something on my own. It began right during my childhood, with inventions. The trouble was, I soon figured out that whatever I tried to invent, was already invented. Also, in the pursuit of Science, I have had to face several hardships, like any true inventor. I remember I once made a contraption which would let a small G.I. Joe action figure float in the air for around 30 seconds. The item was a huge hit within my friends circle. Little did they know what severe criticism the inventor had received from his mother whose kitchen was almost burnt down, thanks to the experimentation with kerosene. There was this other time when I had created a crossbow of sorts, only that it would fire a lasso, instead of a bow. Hulo, the neighborhood cat, who had the reputation of being a light footed thief, was my prime target. I was scoping and stalking him for weeks and had taken elaborate notes of his modus operandi. One beautiful spring afternoon, I decided to strike. Now, my mom had (and still has) a hobby of gardening, and as every gardener would know, a rose is an extremely high maintenance plant. After several months of care and delicate nourishment, mom had successfully created a breathtakingly beautiful shrub of yellow roses. I fired my lasso at Hulo, dropped my weapon, and pulled the other end of the cord with all my might. What came and landed at my feet was a living creature, no doubt, but not the species I had targeted. With a dozen yellow roses strewn at my feet, I stood there like a fallen God, nervously waiting for my fate, as mom decided to walk into the backyard at that very moment. I will not get into the details of what followed, but I do remember that my creativity took a backseat after that incident.

The only time we could be a little entrepreneurial in school was during the fests. Girls and other unimportant people used to visit these fests, and I had built a device, something that I'm sure you must have tried to build during your childhood days as well. I stretched a copper wire across two small upright pillars. I bent the copper wire like a sinusoidal curve, with zigs and zags. I created a small loop with another copper wire and both these wires were connected to batteries through a series connection. There was also a bulb which was part of the connection. The game was simple. One had to take the loop with a steady hand through the zigs and zags of the crooked wire from one pillar to another, avoiding contact between the two wires, failing which, the light bulb would glow. After the first day of the fest, a Marwari friend of mine called me for a meeting. We met in the evening over Gold Spot and my friend proposed that we attach a revenue model to this invention. "We could charge 5 bucks for a shot, and we can keep some kind of prizes for those who succeed", he said. I wasn't sure, and asked "Why would someone want to spend 5 bucks over this stupid game?" My friend took a long sip into his drink while giving me a deep and hard look, and said, "Lesson # 1:   Never think of your own offering as stupid." I was amazed. How true! What a visionary! He continued, "Lesson #2:   People have been known to do a lot of stupid things when challenged." I was more amazed. This guy is gonna do something with his life! He went on, "Leave all that to me. We need to get some cheap prizes. You know, stuff we can find at home? And the prizes need to appeal to girls, coz they're the ones who'll be giggling a lot while trying this. Which means more attempts, and therefore more revenue. Plus they'll have boyfriends, who'll be more than willing to pay 5 bucks to show that they, and none other, are the right men in their girls' lives." I was amazed at how he was segmenting and scoping the market with such ease. The final strategy was yet to come. My friend said, "Oh and by the way, make the wire more crooked and the loop smaller" and disappeared into the darkness outside. We earned quite a bit during that week, enough to have a delicious Biriyani lunch at Gulfam restaurant in Hotel East End. Our model was replicated by several other business groups in school in the years to come.

But now, when things are quite different, I genuinely salute every individual who is entrepreneurial in nature, and who has tried to do something on his or her own. I have a few friends of mine, who have succeeded with ventures of their own. I also have a few friends who have not succeeded. What I like most is the confidence that people from both these groups have. I see young boys trying to set up a company and go to market. I see teenage girls coming up with wonderful ideas, and taking them to fruition. I like their confidence. Every time I see them, I am reminded by my friend's statement: "Never think of your own offering as stupid."

Confessions of a Father

I have learned more about automobiles than about anything else after I heard about my wife's pregnancy. The biggest fear that a man has at that critical juncture of life (especially if it's your first time) is - how the hell am I going to drive my whale of a wife through the traffic of this city to the hospital? What if there is a traffic jam? What if there is a political rally? I can tell you that I had personally measured the time I would take to drive from my residence to the hospital at six different times of the day - twice. I knew exactly how many humps and potholes were there on the road, which were the various puncture shops and which are the traffic lights which I could safely jump, if required. While my wife was reading 'What To Expect When You Are Expecting', I was reading 'Know Your Car'.

Selecting a baby name is also a difficult job. First things first, no one likes 'common' names these days. How dare someone call my baby 'Rakesh', or 'Sunita'? I will not pour tar on my baby's destiny by selecting such a boring name. I'll call her 'Anjini'. Why? Because it sounds so cool. And have I spared a thought for her son, who would curse me for naming her mom after the mother of Hanuman? Ok, I'm too old-school. What if it's a boy? How does the name 'Nibodh' sound? I have to say it sounds wonderful. In fact a single-key typo, and it would sound more wonderful.

Those of my readers who have already been through the experience that I am talking about would know about this dreadful phase where your wife has these post-pregnancy mood-swings. Utensils fly. You sleep on the couch. At midnight, you shudder to see your wife standing in front of the open door of the fridge, and you ask yourself - "is that who I think it is?" These mood-swings are a little intriguing. The doctor warned me of these, and said, "Think of it this way. All her young, irresponsible days of having fun and frolic are going to take a back seat. She is going to feel the responsibility of a whole new life from now on. It's natural to feel a little shaken up, don't you think?" I smiled at the doctor genially, saying "Of course, of course", but I thought to myself - my days of Playstationing and hanging out with friends and watching Kung-Fu movies shall happily continue, I presume?

"This is your baby too" is a statement which is widely heard in bedrooms all over the world during this phase. "I can easily tell you think this is only my responsibility" is another. Now, as much as you would like to say something, the doctor has sealed all possible routes of the mildest of protests by recruiting you as your wife's "emotional companion through this very important phase of her life". Yeah, rrrright!

Then comes the baby. It's a wonderful feeling, those little fingers, those closed eyes, bundle of joy and all that - till suddenly you realize that for the first time in your life, you haven't slept for four days and four nights - straight. The emotional shock of that and the inability to do anything about it and most importantly, the prospect of that routine continuing for the next month or so, scares the hell out of you. I rushed to my mom, who used to pester me so much for a grandkid and demanded why she never spoke of this aspect of parenthood. In the cruelest of responses ever heard on real life or reel life, she says, "Would you have walked into it, had I told you?" That's villainous, simply put.

As the baby grows, so do your expenses. Let's talk about the vaccines. Here's a direct quote from the doctor on one visit - "I'd like to speak to you about this new revolutionary vaccine. It is a recommended preventive for blah-blah-blah disease, and has been found highly effective. It's absolutely optional but four out of five babies who have not taken this vaccine have died." Now, when we were in school, we had learnt about this figure of speech called Antithesis and this is one of the finest examples of that. You cannot use 'optional' and 'your baby might die' in the same sentence. When I ask about the price (much to the chagrin of my wife), the doctor tells me "It's a little on the higher side because it comes directly from Australia". When the price is finally quoted to me, I am forced by my knowledge of my financials to tell my wife in a soft consultative whisper - "Honey, you or I didn't take this vaccine, we turned out just fine?" - and she looks at me like I'm a cold hearted butcher, incongruous of being called a father. We take the vaccine....errr....every month.

When your baby cries in the night, the acting of deep slumber that ensues between both parents is a performance worthy of any number of Oscars. It is a waiting game - who would move first? You lie still, and take deep breaths, just as you would when you're sleeping like a log. The crying gets louder, the neighbour's dog starts barking and one of the two parents (usually the mother) finally relents. She picks up the baby, and in an unnecessarily loud voice, tries soothing the baby, thus taking her revenge on the sleeping partner. You woke me up, I'm not gonna let you sleep either. On other nights, when she is particularly tired, she would simply poke you on the rib, with full knowledge of the difference between voluntary and involuntary reflexes. A strategically placed pillow or heavy quilt typically helps, but even God can't save you from the wrath or innovation of a woman who is hell bent on waking you up.

Sometimes, the baby sleeps with you in the same bed. On one such night, I woke up, and switched the bed lamp on to see that my son had woken up, and had managed to sit upright, and was staring at me. I don't know how to explain it - the beauty of the sight was such that I couldn't move for a minute or two. During this time, he just kept staring at me. And then he smiled. One of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. I smiled back, and patted him lightly on his back, and he promptly lay down by my side, put his tiny hand on my chest and went to sleep. I switched off the bed lamp, still smiling in the dark, feeling proud to be a father.

Five Rare Pancham Gems

Many people have many opinions about RD Burman. I'm of the opinion that he is a fantastic example of how one can be good at both classical as well as western music, and how one does not need to choose. It is the same person who has created "Beeti Naa Bitayi Raina" and "Doston Se Pyaar Kiya - Shaan Se". In fact he was so adept at both, that he could use both classical and western music in the same song - giving two distinct flavors to the song. A wonderful example of this is the song "Meri Nazar Hai Tujh Pe" from the movie 'The Burning Train'. Anyways, today, my intention is to share with you five rare songs of RD Burman - such songs as you may have heard, but may have forgotten. If I am able to rekindle the love that you have always had for this great composer by making you remember (and perhaps hum) these songs, I shall consider my article successful.

1.   O Mehki Mehki Thandi Hawa (Bombay To Goa)

   I am sorry to have begun with a composition which was not really his own [Listen to "Help Me Rhonda" by The Beach Boys to know what I mean]. But hey, we all liked this song when we first heard it, didn't we? Who cares about The Beach Boys? Long live RD!

2.   Shikwa Koi Tumse (Dhan Daulat)

   This song is a recreation from one of RD's own Bengali compositions. The original one was used in a Bengali movie titled "Troyee" [meaning - The Trio]. I like the use of the accordion, saxophone and violins in this song.

3.   Dil Kya Hai, Ek Sheesha Hai (Lava)

   Music lovers, particularly serious Bollywood music lovers, are able to name the music director of a song, even if they have never heard that song before. Music directors have certain - how shall I say - 'signatures'. RD had his own. One of his several signatures has been used in this song, starting at 0:20.

4.   Nadiya Kinare Pe (Barsaat Ki Ek Raat)

   Shakti Samanta made a Bengali movie named 'Anusandhan' with Amitabh Bacchan (perhaps his only Bengali movie), Rakhee and Amjad Khan. The movie became such a big hit, that he decided to make it in Hindi as well, shot-for-shot. The result was 'Barsaat Ki Ek Raat'. Somehow, this one didn't click. The songs of the original one are beautiful and all superhits. When these songs were translated into Hindi, they lost their charm. For instance, this song was translated from a Bengali one 'Otho Otho Surjai Re', meaning 'Rise, oh sparkling sun'. All said and done, the music is vintage RD.

5.   Kaun Kisiko Baandh Saka? (Kaalia)

   This jailbreak song, which captures the essence of Bollywood so well, is rarely heard, but has such an enchanting theme, that you feel like you are right there in the scene. A great number by Mohd. Rafi and hats off to RD.

   RD - the versatile genius could create music of all kinds, and what he has left us with is a treasure trove of wonderful melodies. It is said that music can dissolve all your sorrows. While that is true, I sometimes feel sad when I hear an RD song, thinking what a great loss his absence is to the world of entertainment. But I think you'll agree with me when I say this - as long as there is a Pancham, we will always remember Pancham.

Valentine's Day & Me

This morning, I woke up and said in a soft whisper to my wife - "Happy Valentine's Day!" and immediately my 9-month old son decided to empty his bladder on me. That is when I decided to reminisce about a few memorable Valentine Days of my life, because clearly, I wasn't going to have a memorable one this year.

The small town, where I grew up, had two famous schools - Don Bosco School for boys, and Little Flower School for girls. While some of the guys and girls with a more liberal outlook (and parents) could meet from time to time, we baboons could hardly get a date. And when we did manage to get one, oh what a date that would be! The first point of preparation would be to find a suitable gift. Now, I don't know about the rest of the folks, but my mother used to manage my pocket money with the strictness of the Gestapo, leaving me hardly anything to fend for myself, let alone get a gift for a girl. Also, much to my misfortune, both the demand side (the girls had expensive choices) and the supply side (Archies Gallery was more expensive than the Louvre Gallery) were not in my favour. I would, more often than not, be compelled to choose a 4" X 6" greetings card, saying 'Will you be my Valentyne?'

After getting the greetings card, I had to summon all my creativity to write something on it. I had asked one of my friends for some ideas, and he had told me that he usually writes the lyrics of some famous song. So, on my first date, I wrote the first two lines of 'Chup Chaap Baithi Ho Zaroor Koi Baat Hai' on the card, only to be abandoned by my date midway between our rendezvous. I was later told by the same advisor friend that he meant 'English' songs, and that the particular song that I had written was being used as a melody in an advertisement for sanitary napkins.

The next item on the agenda was the perfume. After being educated about the difference between a gentleman's perfume and a lady's perfume on the first one or two dates, I realized that stealing my mother's perfume wasn't such a great idea. I switched to the neighbour's son, whose family had a garments shop in the town market, and who never cared to study because he knew where he was headed, and who had an impressive collection of perfumes (and everything else).

After all the preparations, when the auspicious time did come, I could hardly speak. I have stage fright even today, but this was something different. I remember I always used to choose a restaurant for my dates, because having a toilet nearby used to be my primary necessity. The girl would often start the conversation. In those days, "what is you favourite movie?" used to be an often-asked question. I don't know why my dates would get so pissed off with my choice of favourite movies. I ask you, dear reader -  can "Baiju Bawra", "Udan Khatola", "Patal Bhairavi", "Shaheed Bhagat Singh" and similar classics be branded as bad movies, by any definition?

Anyways, those were my Valentines Days. Coming to think of it, I'm quite happy with this Valentine's Day, which I'm gonna spend with my lovely wife and lovelier kid. The day is about love, after all :-)

Back To Basics

There used to be a time when things used to run smoothly in this country, and people used to have values which our former rulers had instilled within us. The rulers departed, and gradually but surely, even the values they had taught us to respect faded away. Nobody talks about punctuality these days, for instance. The younger brother of the Maharaja of Cooch Behar once arrived at the railway station to catch a train. In those days, the Imperial Railways used to ply long distance trains between Kolkata and what is now known as Assam. The Maharaja's brother looked at his watch when the train pulled into the station, and saw that the train was late by 10 minutes. He immediately took his watch off his wrist and threw it onto the tracks. Such was the confidence that people had in the Imperial Railways. Today, when almost everything is in a downward spiral, punctuality isn't the first thing on people's mind. I have a feeling it hardly features on people's minds anymore.

Take quality of service for example. When I was a kid, my father used to take me to a certain tailor shop, where we used to get our clothes stitched. The tailor, you will be surprised to know, never used to take my measurements (or those of my father). He used to look at me with a quick glance, and used to give my father a delivery date. In my 14 years of taking services from the tailor, his clothes have never been a misfit. The other day, my wife took me shopping and I had to wait in a long queue outside the trial room in a well-known retail store. I didn't mind, and waited patiently, and tried the trousers which I had asked to be altered in length. Unfortunately, after around 20 minutes of waiting, I found that the trouser was too short. To cut a long story short, after three more such alterations, almost two and half hours of waiting and 350 bucks spent on an unnecessary pizza, I finally gave up. I still wear those trousers to work, and am extremely displeased when people look at my exposed socks.

You buy a Digital TV subscription, and the sales team will speak to you like the entire planet has suddenly been deprived of oxygen due to some apocalyptic catastrophe and you are the biggest hoarder of the precious gas. Once you make the payment and they have said "Have a nice day", the fun starts. I sometimes take notes on the difference of behavior between the sales team and the service team of a provider, and refer to them during my lonely moments, for entertainment.

I'm not saying things haven't improved in certain areas. Of course they have - I'm not blind, or bitter. But I wouldn't care less for people who came and told me that we live in wonderful times. It's time they opened their eyes and confronted reality, and better still, tried and changed it.