This, That and Some More

Recently I heard a gentleman comment that the old are treated more shoddily in India than in the west and so are the mentally challenged. In the daily blur of life, we rarely have time to reflect on such social issues but this statement made me watch out for its validity. The first step was the movie 15 Park Avenue which depicts a very real dilemma of having a mentally challenged member at home and how the family copes. I could relate to that situation as I myself have seen a somewhat schizophrenic lady in my own family. She could not handle her disappointment after giving birth to a female child; she wanted a son desperately to gain acceptance and favor of her in laws. She lost her balance and from then on has remained under very heavy medication and sedation. For many many years her husband ensured that she gets to lead a normal life as far as possible, the extended family accepted her and pretended that serving salt to guests was perfectly normal. Perhaps this support still makes he...

I still recollect the magic and wonder associated with my childhood when I really believed that chairs could grow wings and there were goblins and fairies at the end of the garden. Enid Blyton was partly responsible for weaving this magical world and my parents were responsible for helping me believe in magic. Every time I lost a tooth the tooth fairy religiously left me a 2 rupee note and every Christmas Santa filled my stockings generously with almost all the items I had asked for in my letter to him exactly 15 days before Christmas which was 'posted' by Mother! Eventually I found out that Tooth Fairies and Santa did not exist but I had probably outgrown that phase so it didn't hit me too hard. Now that I have a child of my own I try to create the same sense of wonder and magic by reinventing the Tooth Fairy and Santa. Santa is an immensely good tool to use if one wants the kids to behave, so it has its advantages for the parents as well! It has had some very difficult mo...

Finding spicy food in France can be quite a challenge. Most of the French would is rather mild and delicately flavored and such fineness is rather lost on our Indian palates. After 3 days of fine food I was quite desperate for some serious chilli so I went in search of some restaurant which served some sort of Asian cuisine. Meylan was a very small town adjoining Grenoble, I was skeptical but thankfully I came across 'Cambodia' in the next block after walking for 10 minutes. I had never ever eaten in a restaurant alone before but sheer desperation makes us do a lot of things, I walked in and sat on a table facing the window to hide my embarrassment of eating alone. The proprietor gave me a big smile and handed me the menu. My basic knowledge of French helped me to figure out whether it was beef, chicken or fish and I asked the rest to this man who had forgotten to speak English. I asked if he was from Cambodia and he beamed and said yes he was, he came to France in his teens. I...

Most of the Fish books talk about 'Making someone's day', I came across this gesture from someone (who knows nothing about Fish ) who we just take for granted and rarely ever give a second glance. I would not really give us as a race a lot of awards in keeping public amenities clean. Knowing this, the organization employs 24x7 housekeeping staff who make sure that the toilet is clean, toilet paper folded neatly into a V, enough tissues and there are no nasty odors. We rush in and rush out barely giving these ladies a smile. I did talk once in a while when this lady asked me a question or two. The other day I wore a sari and managed to look quite a mess with asymmetry everywhere. During my mid morning visit to the wash room, this lady literally berated me for wearing something so pretty all wrong. She took charge, fixed the pleats, pinned wherever necessary and I was transformed to this elegant air hostess sort of a look. To be honest I was having a stressful day because ev...

While I was growing up the television didn't have any soaps on it - it was mostly a four hour slot which screened some programs for farmers, some documentaries and a movie on Sundays. So the next best alternative was to read - whatever I could lay my hands on. Reader's Digest was a regular feature in our house and it had a series on Napoleon at one point of time. I remember reading about Josephine, his victories, Waterloo and his alleged arsenic poisoning while he was held captive. I even dreamt of driving down the road that led to Arc de Triomphe. At that time I did not know that road was called Champs Elysees - the most romantic avenue in the whole world. My dream came true in the most wonderful way. I got an opportunity to travel to France for work, it was a small city called Grenoble in east of France quite closed to the famed Mont Blanc peak. I went to Paris on a weekend by TGV which was an awesome experience, managed to find my way to the hotel, checked in, dumped my bags...

It seems I am getting good at it every day! I have read lots of articles about how the 'Modern Indian Woman' has to manage house, demanding careers, maids, in-laws, parents, kids and so on. I guess the 'Indian Woman' is quite the superwoman who manages all these roles and responsibilities and usually sails through it without getting ruffled but there are challenging moments and here is just a glimpse into a 'Day in the life of an Indian Woman'... Alarm rings at 5:30 but I am down with the sniffles so I quit the idea of going to the gym and go back to sleep and dream of osteoporosis and creaking joints catching up with me in my old age. I guess it was induced by the guilt of not going to the gym. I wake up at 7:00 AM and tell my husband that I have an office party tonight and will be back at 11:30 PM. A few minutes later I added 'Can you send the driver to the hotel?' and I am faced with instant resistance. I am given a lecture on neglecting my son and ho...

Just something I discovered amongst the piles that I wrote centuries back (it seems like that now!) - it was a note written to somebody but its a view point I would like to share here.... It just sort of occurred to me that all of us so so busy with ourselves, I would say we spend about 95% of our time in running after our goals, desires. wants etc, given this situation, time and our attention are so much at premium and precious specially if we choose to give it to something or someone that does not serve our goals in any way. So I just wanted to say that I really appreciate the time you have taken out for me, you may have done it willingly or unwillingly at times, I know I can be pushy, irrational, emotional, rude or irritatingly honest at times (but most times I am nice or naughty). As for your attention, I am deeply honored. Human attention is a very rare commodity these days and I treasure, value and respect everything that I get.

One morning at the gym I noticed two rather young and relatively raw looking girls trying to give half baked or totally wrong instructions (in Maratthi, Hindi and a few words in English) to people who were working out. In an up market gym this was not such a welcome sight - people could be seriously injured. I wondered that is the gym really so hard up that they can’t even afford to get proper fitness trainers? Youth always is very refreshing; no matter what form it comes in. These girls after they joined added more enthusiasm and warmth to the normally snooty atmosphere, they greeted everybody, made sure that everybody smiles and tried their level best to catch up with the various fitness jargons that they had never heard of before. The blunders still continued but they got better with each day. Their colleagues also mostly refused to explain the intricacies of how to set up the Smith Machine and the correct way to do squats but they learnt by observation. One day I decided to find ou...

All my fellow IT professional would agree that this role is the backbone of any established IT firm. Of course it’s different that as a developer I felt developers were the key. So what one thinks is kind of relative to what one does or where one is. The Project Manager is a much maligned person as I have experienced. The team you lead thinks that you are a decorative accessory who just has to say a few smart words at the right time to the right people. They also think that you are a disaster technically and the poor chap/lady is around just because he/she has no chances of getting a job anywhere. What does a Project Manager have to do anyway?? 1. Read and reply to mails 2. Attend Meetings 3. Conduct appraisals - only twice a year at the most For this shit they get paid so much. Of course the developers have to bear all the burdens in this world! Now let’s see the other side, what does a Project Manager's boss think about this great person. The typical words you hear are: "Now...

This one if for the Geeks! We all know about defect prevention meetings, for the first 10 minutes we genuinely make an effort, sit quietly, try to analyze why the defects occurred and the ideas that come out to prevent those defects are sometimes highly creative but very far fetched. What the heck, we are humans and we will make mistakes so what’s the big deal about spending so much time analyzing them? That’s the mood that sets in after the first 10 minutes. The next ten minutes is usually dedicated to analyzing the human race, the surroundings and environment that we work in and of course our esteemed customer. Let us examine what takes place in the middle of the DP meetings: Scenario 1 Lots of creative ideas floating around but its not leading anywhere, the DPR earnestly tries to put on a serious expression and reminds us that we are nowhere close to reaching an action item and since the conference room booking will last for another 15 minutes we should cut out the crap and hunt for...

I get up bleary eyed every morning, brush my teeth and rush to the gym to shed the flab that is added due to ever increasing incomes and better lifestyles (however hard earned that may be). Saturdays are different though, I dont have to wake up at the crack of dawn, I take my time, read the paper, have breakfast and then go for my workouts. Saturdays are all the more special because I have time for other 'pamper myself' activities too. While coming back home I walk half the way, window shop, browse though the local library and buy a few things for home. One such Saturday afternoon, all the usual Saturday activities I was feeling great about myself and thought that I would indulge in one of those delicacies that my dietician strictly forbade me to eat and went ahead and got a few things which I would gorge on (ok nibble on!) while I read a book at home. While walking down, I pass a popular restaurant, my pace was slow, I had time to observe my surroundings and in doing so I noti...

About seven years back I first heard the name Café de Paris, my husband often mentioned it whenever I asked him where he had had lunch. This place seemed to be a favorite hang out during the various sales calls he used to make in the Dalhousie area and I often heard him singing praises of the pudding he ate there. The name brought visions of the cafes one sees in Paris while walking along Champs Elysees; of course I knew that what I visualized was quite far fetched for a busy street on Dalhousie. Though I was curious and always very eager to explore all kinds of eating joints, Café de Paris was forgotten in the midst of the daily din of existence. Then one fine morning we made a decision to move to a city with greater opportunities and better careers and the first step in doing so was to go and purchase railway tickets from Koilaghata. It quite slipped our minds that we could have purchased tickets from Ballygunj station as well which was quite close but anyway we had made the journey ...

It was the first ever Asiad games in Delhi, there was a lot of excitement all around, everybody had tickets for some game or the other. Not to be left behind, I asked my Mother whether we could go and see *any* game – that would take care of the pressure of being in the club of the ‘people who had seen an Asiad even’ in school! My Mother worked in a high profile advertising agency so she did get some complimentary tickets for a game of hockey which would be played between some quite unknown teams right in front of my house at a sports stadium. Hockey was not my favorite sport but who cared as long as I could say in school that I too had seen a game. The day arrived, the stadium looked brightly lit with the floodlights but there seemed to be no mode of transport available (I can’t exactly recollect why now) and we didn’t have a car. I did what pre teens do best, cried and howled but obviously that didn’t turn a pumpkin into a chariot (or for that matter a Mercedes) to take me to the sta...