'Twas A Sultry Evening

Ok. So this is not a Mills & Boons-like post at all. In fact, it is something quite different from what the title seems to suggest.

I had arrived in Mumbai the previous night and was absolutely sleep-deprived owing to the IPL finals being played at DY Patil Stadium in Navi Mumbai. Mumbaikars will sympathise with me when they understand that I was scheduled to stay at The Trident, Nariman Point. The journey from DYP to TNP was gruesome and tiring to say the least.

However, that was the night before. This night was an entirely different story though. I had finished early from work (purposefully) and had resolved to lose some flab and exercise my slightly bulgy sinews by taking a walk down Marine Drive - The Queen's Necklace (am sure the 'freedom fighters' of the country won't be proud to hear it being called 'that' again).

Therefore, with sleeves rolled up, a strong resolve, an iPod in hand, and earphones in my ears (where else?) I commenced my short, albeit brisk walk from Trident to Pizzeria unfortunately. Yes - that's where I stopped. So much for 'losing flab'.



Anyway, before I walked into the restaurant, I noticed that there was a crowd that was flummoxed and occupied by a certain individual who had either lost his marbles, or was one of the millions of 'strugglers' in the Hindi Film Industry. At this point, I confess to being a drop in the ocean too (that of aspiring actors). Coming back to the topic at hand here, there was this long-haired, lanky, dark-skinned, 17-year old boy who was carrying out an impromptu acting performance in the middle of the pavement.

His method of acting was such:

Each act in this skit of his would last approximately 2 minutes 30 seconds. He would walk 10 steps towards the road, turn around to face the guffawing audience, brush his hair back, and start walking towards the same audience with a swagger at times and sometimes with a drunken stupor. All of a sudden, he would break into a jig, fling his arms up in the air, unzip his shirt, roll up his sleeves, and perform the Taandav. NB: Apologies for the poor quality of the video.

Each act was varied in nature and he pretended as though he actually had a film camera staring at him in the face and the audience all around him were his 'fans' who were lucky to watch the method actor perform in front of their eyes.

The entire show lasted for 1.5 hours and I was riveted to my perch on the raised cemented platform overlooking the sea admiring the zeal and enthusiasm as well as finding humor not in the actor's performance, but more in the reaction of people surrounding him.

There were groups of people who were sitting there in good humour, just trying to appease the young dolt and guffawing away, sometimes ridiculing him, and sometimes, just laughing at his idiocy.


There were people who were out for their evening walks walking around the actor so as to not arouse his desire to acknowledge them, whom he considered were fans approaching him to take his autograph.



There were young boys (of the same age) whose jealousy knew no bounds, whereby they tried to distract and irritate the young actor in a bid to disrupt the performance.

There were young girls who couldn't stop giggling, which further egged on the boy to do more and more, which eventually caused him to get his zipped shirt stuck around his head while he attempted to do a 'Salman Khan bare-all act', and in turn further increased the entertainment value that was being derived out of the performance.



There were people who were scared of what this fellow was capable of doing were he to use these people as props in his act and start beating them filmy-style or asking them questions. These people turned around immediately upon laying eyes on this 'chokhra'.

Soon, vendors too flocked the scene at realizing that a crowd had gathered and they had a better chance of selling their wares here than anywhere else on that street.

There were lovers who couldn't be bothered even if a meteorite landed right in front of them. They were oblivious to everything around them.

There were foreigners who were clearly bemused and amused at the same time on seeing this slumdog boy, who in turn, realized the opportunity of earning some dollars from the 'goras' and waved madly at them each time he saw one of them pause to take a picture or wait for him to do something dramatic, which unfortunately scared the 'goras' out of their wits and forced them to flee.



There were artists who were drawing caricatures of this creature contorting his limbs without reason and started offering them to people as proof of their expertise so that they could earn some money by being called upon to use their skills to massage the ego of a few tourists who were also admiring (or not) the antics of this crowd-gatherer.

There were people who just walked by, without blinking an eye as though it was the most normal thing in the world, with an air of "So what?"

There were men whose egos were as large as their posteriors, who to assert their upper hand over any and every situation, purposely got in the way of this artist and rapped him on the head a couple of times to show that they are in control.

There were teams of policemen who were busy cursing their bosses (for reasons that this picture will depict), catching an innocent bystander to tell him that he was jaywalking, while he was stationary all this while.



I couldn't take a picture/video of all that was going on around me because of a lack of a device, but if you ever want to experience all the facets of India and draw a parallel with things around you by just standing in one place, just turn up on Marine Drive on any sultry evening.

~ H.

PS - I hope I am still alive to read comments and respond to them after this post has been published. A thousand apologies if I have upset anyone (or anything).

Modern Man - The Transhuman

Here's a transcript of a monologue by George Carlin - a comedic genius and poet extraordinaire. Read and identify.

"I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been input and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond!

I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, riding the wave, dodging the bullet and pushing the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I've got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial!

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers.

I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail.

But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing-- a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant.

I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Driving and moving, sailing and spinning, jiving and grooving, wailing and winning. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hanging in, there isn't any doubt and I’m hanging tough, over and out!"

Modern Parenting

I've wanted to write about this for a long time, but did not get the time to do it. Finally, with some time on my hands after escaping from work early, I thought I'd at least do something that I've wanted to in a long time. And that my readers, is share my thoughts with you.

Today's topic that I have decided to write about is one that frustrates me to no extent to see the kind of spoilt ingrates being churned out by society. A child's life today is over-protected. As we steer more to the western school of thought and the fact that hurting a child can lead to terrible consequences, the percentage of unsuccessful, low on esteem, frightful, and often queer folks has increased multifold.

There used to be a time when parents would wield a stick, teach a child discipline, and let the child fend for himself in difficult situations. This would be the norm and the done thing. However now, the times - they are a changin'.

Today's parents are into 'child worship'. This excessive devotion to children is just mind-numbing. Today's professional parents are constantly overscheduling and overmanaging their children, and are robbing them of their childhood. Even the simple act of playing has been taken away from them. Something that is supposed to be spontaneous and free has become rigid and overtly planned. Nowadays, a 4-year old should not be playing outside in the sun. He should be inside studying and cramming hard for his Kindergarten entrance exams. All this is for noone else, but for his parents pride and egos.

Children today aren't allowed to play the ever so famous 'chor police', because it includes "victimization". They aren't allowed to play 'tag' because it includes 'exclusion'. Instead, they are encouraged to play indoor games involving strategy, games involving intelligence. Where has all the fun gone? These are not droids that we want to churn out. Humans are what we are and humans are what we are expected to produce.

Having said that, when the child finally gets to play - whatever game he/she is allowed to play, the child will never lose, because in today's world, no child ever loses...everybody wins and noone is a loser. Everyone gets a trophy. No child today ever gets to hear those all-important character building words "You lost". Instead, these kids are told "You're the last winner". Often, these kids don't hear the right words right up until their twenties, when their bosses tell them to their faces, "You're a loser!". And then, this 20-year old child crumbles, goes into depression, and then the psychiatrics take over.

Turn off the internet, the idiot box, the CD ROMS, computer games and let your kids stare at a tree for a couple of hours. Every now and then they will actually come up with one of their own ideas. You want to know how to help your kids? Leave them alone.

Children these days are overrated and overvalued. They've become little cult objects. Today's parents have a child fetish and that's not a great thing. Often, you'll get to hear "I love my children". Well - everyone loves their children...it doesn't make the person who's saying it any more special or what they're saying more believable. Stop praising your kids in front of others (or even in front of the kids themselves). Noone whom you're telling these things to wants to know, because noone cares. What is this mindless rambling, the neurotic fixation that suggests that somehow everything has to revolve around the life of your child?

What is it with mobile phones and kids these days? How can parents give a 7-year old a cellphone and encourage him/her to talk using that phone? Calling them up in the middle of the day and asking them "Did you eat? Did you go to the loo? When are you coming home? Where are you now? Who are you with? Don't play with boy 'X' because he is a mean boy ". No wonder kids these days run far away from their parents as soon as they are able to. I don't blame the parents for asking these questions too much, but what I am objecting to is this obsession of not being able to leave their kids alone to fend for themselves and make decisions on their own. So what if it's the wrong one? They'll make the mistake and learn. It's not the end of the world. At least you end up teaching your child one of the most important things in life - being bold enough to take a decision.

Kids love showing off shiny, new things. I remember I used to take pride in a pencil-box my parents once bought me. I would go around showing it off to everyone I knew in school. Often, if I would get good grades, I would tell my friends that it's because of the lucky pencil/eraser I bought the other day. That is innocence personified. Not like today's kids, who go around showing off their mobile phones letting other kids  know that they have GPRS and can watch videos on their phones. This then forces the jealous kids to make demands of their weak parents, who, for the sake of showing their kids how much they love them, go and buy these kids a better phone than the one they initially demanded....and the cycle goes on.

Do parents really need to "show" their love to their kids? I mean - isn't it obvious? They bring you into this world, they live together, they feed the kids, they take care of them, they get mad at them as well. Is that not good enough? Why do parents have to buy their kids things, tolerate misbehaviour and indiscipline to show their kids how much they love them? It just makes the kid weaker and more insecure than ever before, not to mention spoilt.

Finally, when the kids turn out all wrong and the parents catch the kid smoking one day at the shop around the corner, they're going to be ignorant of the fact that they didn't teach their kids the right things (and expected their schools to do it for them - after all, they spent all their money on that fancy air-conditioned school without uniforms and books, that allowed their children to move around in AC buses, fed them during the day with 5-star category food, allowed them to take a nap, and didn't give them homework since it was considered as too much pressure for the child). Instead, they blame the tobacco companies, advertisements, the Western world, movies, filmstars, and even believe that the camel in sunglasses asked them to smoke. Today's parents are responsible for today's generation and they have failed to make their kids understand right from wrong, good from evil, and even truth from dare.

Children are the most beautiful and innocent things that were ever created. Parents end up spoiling them by imposing their beliefs and views, being overprotective, scheduling their time for them, succumbing to their kids' whims and fancies, letting the child take control of them instead of the other way round. At the end of it, these same parents end up demanding respect from their children. They forget that respect cannot be demanded - it must be earned....and we all end up blaming none other than "the kids these days...."

From the archives - Time

Since I was recently harping about how it is time to get out of 'The Comfort Zone', this is an old post that I thought I would cross-post here.  There's no connection, but just felt how much we talk about having 'no time' to do anything.

TIME

Of the three types of input that every activity needs, material goods, skills, and time, I've come to feel that perhaps the least understood is time. In conventional economics, it is treated as a commodity to be bought and sold at will, and therefore needing no special consideration. Yet experience suggests that the economics of time is not quite so simple.

We need time to work, to eat, to sleep, and to accomplish all the daily chores of living. We also need time to know and understand our partner, our children, and our friends. Most of our relationships, in fact, require more time than we have, and it is difficult to avoid the feeling that we could never have enough. Nor is our list of demands on our time complete. We have ignored the time we need to be alone, a necessary but invariably short- changed period.

I know many people, myself included, who often feel "time poor" and who bemoan this limitation. Perhaps this attitude is a great mistake. Perhaps if we were to embrace the limitations of time, to celebrate them and explore their implications, we would find that they hold an essential key to the fundamental attitudes and experiences we will need in a humane sustainable culture.

The Comfort Zone

Sitting in one of the plush malls in Gurgaon, I was having a discussion with my wife about life in general. It is then that it became increasingly clear to me that I had become like the others...something that I had promised to myself years ago that I would not become.

The Comfort Zone as I refer to it, is the typical situation in which a working individual finds himself in. Resigned to the fact that the rest of his life is going to shuttle between his workplace and his home. The same dreary routine of waking up in the morning, rushing to work, rushing back, having dinner, and falling asleep for the major portion of his life. It's getting into this comfort zone that I have always been wary of and now I feel that I am getting into this position as each day passes.

I asked myself what is it that I have to look forward to in the next few years? The answer was not very difficult to come up with if I were to look at things from a normal human's standpoint: I now have a home loan, the liability of which forces me to work days on end, tirelessly. I will soon have commitments towards my family, which again I have to work the same way years on end, tirelessly. Life becomes similar to a million other lives in the past and possibly a billion other lives in the future.

Is this what I thought life would be? Away from friends, family, loved ones? Not being able to find joy in the smallest of things? Am I in a place where I don't want to be only because of money? Doesn't that make the meaning of life so trivial?

Well it's true that the power to change one's life lies in one's own hands and my life is not an exception to that rule. However, the willingness to do that rests on more than just one's whims and fancies. There's an inherent amount of risk that one has to take and each person's situation to take on that risk varies. My ability to take on that risk, for the sake of my family, is extremely limited.

My wife asked me, "What do you want to do, what do you want to be"? My answer, which I felt was too dreamy and non-consequential was "I want to be famous. I want to be different. I don't want to be in a situation where I get uncomfortably comfortable with life the way it is right now. I want to do something that I enjoy, that I find pleasure in. If asked what do I see myself doing 3 years from today, I can only say that I will be sitting behind some desk doing pretty much the same stuff that I am doing now. Sure, there will be salary hikes and I will still have my job till the age of 60 or thereabouts, which is precisely what I mean by being uncomfortably comfortable."

Of course, there might be unforseen situations that might make things uncomfortable, but my classification of feeling comfortable is different. It doesn't revolve around my being handicapped and unable to do anything as being classified as uncomfortable, but moreso challenging myself to do new things, following a passion and living life on my terms.

It's time to move on. It's time to take matters into one's own hands. It's time.