From the Plop to all that Pondering

Every kid curses him for noticing the apple fall – thanks to him we have to go through the ordeal of learning all the Mechanical Physics there is around us. He has been praised, honoured, paid homage to and ridiculed. But he was a mere mortal at the end of the day. Seriously, had no one noticed anything else FALL before???? I mean, seriously! The moral of the story here is not gravity – it is something else. So Isaac Uncle was lolling around under the shade of the apple tree on a fairly pleasant day I am assuming. He was clearly doing nothing at all, except perhaps, taking one of his innumerable naps, dozing in and out of his daydreams – probably pining over the neighbourhood damsel. Had the apple fallen next to him, he would’ve just eaten it up. But no, the fateful apple decided to plonk itself on our Genius’s curly haired head. The apple bothered our man, hence he paused and pondered and brooded and fretted over that poor apple. He had to blame someone for this misfortune – and enter – Gravity. Which brings us to the question – why do things ‘get’ to us? Why do people fight for a cause? Is it just an itch? Why do they go all the way to find out about something? Is it mere curiosity? I don’t think so. It’s only when YOU are affected, do you want to move out of your comfort zone and bring things back to normalcy – relative normalcy at that. On the other hand, I feel it’s okay to be this self involved. If we go by the butterfly effect, what affects you is probably affecting the solitary glow worm that has been boycotted by the other glow worms for glowing a little too brightly in the quaint tropical forests of Balukpong. So at the end of the day, whatever you do is probably good for people around too. As long as you keep that in check, you’re good to go :D Unlike Newton, who, to satiate his urge to ‘find out’ screwed up tons of millions of happy teenage lives to follow!

Of Mice and Dolphins

So I am reading Douglas Adams.. yet again.. I can't seem to get enough of the bizarre, intelligent, witty world of his that doesn't quite fit into any genre at all - science fiction? humour? fantasy? not really - everything is very real and very improbable. But it's consuming nonetheless.

You love to see Arthur Dent in his innate misery - the quintessential common man- not so lucky with the ladies, not so lucky with anything for that matter. Zaphod Beeblebrox is irritatingly hard to resist - clueless, vain and patronising - yet very essential.

As you read the book you are only wondering how Adams conjured all that up. One quality that stands out in his style of writing is that the reason you can't keep the book down is because there's a bombardment of pictures in your head as you read. Adams will be talking about something as abstract as the enormity of the Universe projected in a vortex and come up with a piece of fairy cake. So the reader is looking at a fairy cake and something tells him that he is able to grasp the concept since he can visualise the idea - even though it is just the hungry thought of a stupid fairy cake.

Douglas Adams has been quoted to the point of belonging to a list of hackneyed phrases. And I'm sure you've quoted him without even knowing it.

To all who've read Adams you already know what I mean. To those who haven't, you're missing something!

Sing the Saga of Victory

So I just read on one of my friend’s facebook profiles that UNESCO has declared our National Anthem to be the best in the world. Well, I wasn’t really surprised. I’ve heard anthems of many countries – sometimes through the Encarta CD Ma got for us and Anant and I used to spend hours exploring it; And other times at the Olympics or an international game when the players would stand with their heads held high voicing the words as their country’s anthem would play, sending a chill through my spine every time. To be honest, I always found our anthem much more melodious and touching than the others, not because I’m an Indian but as an entirely neutral judge basing my opinion purely on the basics of music and rhythm I’ve grown up with. Jana Gana Mana rings through your senses as it plays in the short 52 seconds and makes you feel a part of the humungous piece of land – pluralist in the truest sense of the word – in every aspect – language, religion, race, cuisine, culture and beliefs. It scales almost two octaves making it not very easy to sing, but it transcends the listener into a sonic roller coaster of sorts, scaling up the tempo and giving that racy feeling in your tummy. I’m sure anthems throughout the world give this feeling to all the people who sing them. And there’s never a fair way to judge ‘the best’ among the lot – it’s like a baby pageant – I mean come on! Every child is the most beautiful thing in the world for her parents.

So anyway, I thank UNESCO for giving us this tag – Kudos to Gurudev for writing such a beautiful song with such deep lyrics. I have sung this one song for fourteen years of my life everyday. And even today when I hear the anthem playing anywhere at all, I stand up – Regardless of what my friends say or people think. It’s just that this one song that we sing with our heads high up in the air also will, for generation to come, remind us of the slavery and oppression our people have withstood – for centuries together and still sustain – in other, less blatant forms. This song was written as an ode to the very Empire that enslaved us and tried to make us “The White Man’s Burden”. Nonetheless, it’s OUR anthem, and will always remain so. And every time we sing it, hum it or stand up to it with due respect, we will feel Indian.

Nasties Beware!

They’ve found a peculiar life form in some obscure, murky lake in California that lives on Arsenic. Yes, people the most definitely fatal Arsenic. We can boast of this trivium since we’ve all watched the movies and read the trashy spy novels. So what, most people would ask – it’s no big deal. We discover new life forms all the time, because life is constantly evolving. So why the headlines? That's coz no life form so far was known to be As-friendly. Why do certain broad spectrum antibiotics that were earlier highly effective on pathogens over time lose their punch? That’s because the pathogens themselves are evolving and undergoing rapid mutations to become stronger and more immune. Earlier toothpastes used to contain Triclosan, a popular cleansing agent. But over the years Triclosan has lost its potency since it was so widely used in all cleansers (face washes, disinfectants, and wait for it.. even toilet cleaners) that the “nasties” are now immune to it. So we look for other substances.

Now do we realise that Cancer is basically mutated cells. And the worst of cancers are after all treated with the deadliest of poisons – more advance the stage, stronger the dosage of chemotherapy. They are killing the cancer with controlled quantities of poison and obviously the patient’s body takes a heavy toll too. People like Lance Armstrong survive deadly cancer because they are inherently very strong mentally and physically and their bodies can sustain the toxicity. Others, sadly, can’t.

With this build up, here’s the point I’m trying to make – aren’t we making nasties deadlier ourselves? We are poisoning ourselves, our environment, the entire food chain. Today a certain bacterium is compatible with Arsenic. If this bacterium turns into a pathogen, what do we kill it with? DDT? No – too much off it running through our veins already. Triclosan? Ineffective and useless. Chemotherapy? Oh wait, this pathogen actually likes chemotherapy. It feeds on it.
I’m not panicking nor do I intend to create panic. We have enough crises to worry about already – global warming slowly getting into the clichéd line now. I’m just trying to say that we can reduce the toxicity in our systems as much as possible today. Don’t drug yourself every time you have fever with antibiotics. Don’t use ultra strong disinfectants. Don’t drain all the soapy water in one go. Think of ways to conserve soap/detergents/disinfectants while you keep yourself aptly clean. The water you’ve washed clothes with can be used to flush your toilet and spare your toilet cleaner. Grow a kitchen garden. You spare yourself truckloads of pesticides that you get free with your groceries along with a good hobby/exercise. Grow plants all the time. Anytime. Anywhere. Tend to them. Green is good. Go organic, but also account for the huge carbon footprint of the air miles on that product. I remember talking to a ‘green’ person once and she proudly said – “We’ve got rid of the geysers in our house!” When I asked her how her family manages during winters, she stumped me with this – “We heat the water on the stove” So it’s important to realise which option is greener – is it 3 disposable paper cups in a day or a mug that someone is going to wash with “Pril” or “Vim” and pollute the water. We have to go down to the minutest of details when we make a green decision. Otherwise the nasties are going to get us soon!

Saying something stupid..

You know that feeling when your alter ego takes over? The feeling when you do the exact opposite of what you’re known to be? Well, sometimes, it’s just plain impossible to behave the way you always do or act the way you are supposed to. Sometimes, the outspoken resort to silence. Sometimes, the most expressive keep it to themselves. Sometimes, the timid stand up and stand out. Sometimes, the stoics slip up. Sometimes, the righteous draw grey. You find that you are not the person you are known to be. You find yourself not speaking up when you would have raved and ranted for hours. You think tons inside but draw a blank on the outside. You know when that happens – when the world is at war, and when you are hopelessly, desperately, irrevocably in love.

A crisis sees the best of men and the worst of men. Love just makes one become a better person.

Redefining.. or trying to..

Thoughts defy me. They've been evading me for quite a few weeks now. Every second day, I have been hitting my own blog like one of those Howard Wolowitz loser geeks and have been wondering what to come up with this time. I have been trying to look for something that's bugging me this time, or something I'm strongly feeling for, or even something that I found funny. But nothing seems to pop put.

So have I after all run out of things to write about or for that matter, think about and feel for? Or is that too many thoughts are crowding my preoccupied brain and indifferent heart that it is difficult to choose what to pen down? I would like to pretend it's the latter coz that makes me look quite profound.

The time I get to myself during my long commutes these days consumes me with random thoughts - thoughts about home, work, friends, the future.. what I expect of it.. It's like my mind goes into overdrive when I'm sitting in that crowded bus or standing next to a bunch of overwhelming jasmine. I'm thinking about what I'm doing with life, where I'm headed and more. Much much more. But it's all as if someone else is thinking all this for me. It doesn't disturb me - all this pondering. It's almost as if I'm thick skinned now. All these issues are neatly stacked away in a box as soon as I'm out of these 'episodes'. But I enjoy day dreaming about anything and everything too. I gave up my iPod and the overpowering music that I listen to to just think things through. Because in a way I also believe that if you think of something long and hard enough, it may actually come true. I believe in "The Secret".

I notice that even while I'm trying to figure out stuff for myself in this post, I'm actually just wandering around like I always do in my fits of thought-trains in train-thoughts. I guess that's why this space is called 'Imbroglio'. Coz that's me.

Hearty Hyderabad

I had always heard about the city - only with reference to food and pearls. The city had already come to me in some way or the other before - a friend's mom got me pearl earrings once. Another friend got me Karachi Bakery biscuits and another still got me biryani when he flew down which turned out to be amazing.

I landed here and bunked with friends. I got the tips and pointers I needed about the city. And as each day passed I built my own opinion of everyone and everything here.

It's a city drenched with history, old monuments still stand calmly by the roads laid with stone. Cultures blend here in the most unimaginable way. Muslims celebrate Ganeshotsav. Non vegetarian non-muslims make the most of Ramzan and savour Haleem. The name of every place is as colourful as the people - Begumpet to Jagathgirigutta - I'm pretty used to the names now. But initially I would step back to actually know what is what.

The food is a good blend for all palettes. You can't get enough of the biryanis. The bakeries are ubiquitous. And so are the South Indian Restaurants. I've had Italian, Lebanese and Thai food here - not that I haven't had these cuisines in other metros - but not at THESE prices.

The people are as warm as they are fun. Either they speak Telugu and have strong political opinions about Andhra and Telangana, or they speak Hindi with an attitude that leave you gaping for the first few conversations. After a while you find yourself speaking in the same way. There is a surprising Marathi, Oriya and Bihari influence in parts of the city too. And like every other place, the Marwadis adorn the markets turning Begum Bazaar and Lingampally into Mini Rajasthan where people are sticklers for Baba Ramdev products and follow the Swadeshi cult. You run into tribals at the Paradise crossing selling toy bows and arrows that you used to buy at Dusherra from the fair. You see one of them with a capacitor turned into a earring. And you wonder - East is east and west is west - and the twain do meet at times.

I wonder why I'm falling in love with this city so much. Probably it reminds me of where I come from - a city of smiling people with huge appetites. Perhaps I just like the food. Or the winding roads where driving is always a pleasure. It could be that I am comfortable with the work and the routine and touch wood, haven't had any tough times so far. Or may be, just may be, the friends I have here make all the difference. The friends who make for me - a home away from home.

Within and Without

When we were kids, the only grooming we would be subjected to was a frequent hair cut. The frequency would be decided by our moms. We just ended up sitting in those gigantic chairs, sometimes propped on extra cushions and see ourselves frowning while the nice lady would spray us with cold water snipping away to glory. As we grew up, we decided for ourselves, when it was time for 'more than just a hair cut'. And the list has always grown. For everyone today, a monthly visit to the salon is mandatory, regardless of the skin type, hair length, time available and willingness to invest/spend in this area (choice of verb here is again relative).

And it is not as simple as it used to be. These days you have to choose your salon carefully. You always have to call in first and take an appointment, unless you want to wait up queued in for hours and be subjected to the snobbish stares of the staff. You also have to be prepared for an overdose of "You Look Ugly" comments from the staff that provides you the services you are paying through your nose for. No matter how good or bad you look, while getting that treatment, the 'nice' lady would go on and on about how badly you need a "Hair Spa", a facial, an Anti-Tanning Treatment or a Fruit Peel. With all the jargon thrown at you, and you are trying to decipher how peeling something off would make it better, you are also told how tanned and wrinkled your skin is, how rough your hair is and how unhealthy your nails are.

With all the "Must Have" Procedures thrown at you, you either dismiss getting any other torture done by saying you'll come back later for the same, or you get brainwashed and agree to what they tell you to do. Either which way, the end result is unsatisfactory. While in the former scenario, you come out of the salon feeling worthless, insignificant and just another Plain Jane, in the latter case, you just feel thoroughly robbed. Of course, if you do get all the extra add-ons done, they can't stop telling you how magnificent you look while you're paying that fat bill!

So it's up to you. Either you brave that well lit mirror and sit up strong willed saying to yourself that you DO NOT need that Hair Power Dose which claims to transform your hair, or you go in there ready to empty your bank account to feel oh-so-pretty for a few hours.

Anyhow - you would always be beautiful. Being pretty is just ephemeral.

The box of nuts

The insignificance in life is sometimes most important. The moments we ignore to run after what we see at the end of the tunnel are the ones that might bring us that rare smile. I remember walking with my grandfather to the shop around the corner for petty things like curds and stationery. He was a slow, cautious walker. He used to stop once in a while to pick up a screw or a nut or a bolt lying in the way. I used to find it very funny as a child. It was a little game for me. I would hunt the road as we walked to find my own treasures and show them proudly to him. He would just smile - that soothing smile of his. When we would come back home, he would keep these random nuts and bolts in a little tin box. We had a full fledged tool box and whatever appliance would need to be fixed in the house, he would get to work - using these nuts and bolts as spares. The entire set of spanners, screw drivers, files, etc were neatly stacked in one place for these odd Sunday jobs. Whether it was oiling the rattling fan, or priming the motor, we were his enthusiastic and officious assistants. At the end of the operation we would be assigned marks on 100, but none of us every aced that score. He always saved a mark or two. And that kept us going.

When we grew up, he gave us his coin collection and his stamp collection, which is the best inheritance I could get. Both are rich, old and varied. I guess I get my fetish for collecting bus tickets, movie tickets, dinner bills and the works from him :) I remember saving wrappers of chocolate that I used to share with a friend. I collect all the junk in the world. But I've learnt that most often than not - all isn't junk after all.

So coming back to the small things in life - an auto wala chatting you up, or the song that you are humming that automatically starts playing in the mall you are at, the friend you are thinking about who's thinking about calling you the very same moment, or even the one scoop of strawberry ice cream that you treat yourself to - these are the insignificant things that make your life significant - make it worth living.

So while going down that road - look for your treasures. By the end of it, you'll have a box full of shiny and rusty nuts and bolts!

I keep walking

Another day, another mile

And more.

I smile and meet someone new

At every turn

And I keep walking.

I do not shy away

From what's around the corner

I face the music

The repercussions too

And I keep walking.

I sing along

With every tread

With every hop,

Skip and Jump

I just keep walking.

I fumble and fall

At times, of course

I get laughed at

How would they let go?

Yet, I get up,

Shake it off.. and keep walking.

The Last Summer

The only reason I would manage to bear the brunt of Final Exams back in school was that I knew that the summe holidays were around the corner. I would look forward to Nimbodi, Mangoes and guava at home, the Paratha - Jam/Sauce combos for an 11 o'clock breakfast, the innumerable carrom, ludo, cards sessions with kids in the neighbourhood in the afternoons and the heated and fiery "Sitoliyan", Cricket, Badminton and "Gadha Maar" in the evenings. Summers was a time to read good books, learn different arts and spend hours on the bicycle and in the locality swimming pool. I couldn't care less about how much I was tanning or where my hair was going. Those were the days of abandon.

As I grew up, the concept of a vacation changed drastically. A two week sabbatical is now a long vacation. Curling up with a book and coffee is all one needs. Partying at night thrown in makes my life happening. Shopping more of a chore for me, so that's off the list.

Graduating out of B-school in March brought in a pleasant surprise of 2 months for me before I started work. Time was the gift I got. The time that I would never get again - lazying around at home, catching up with school friends - dinners at the usual restaurants, late nights at Sarafa and Johnny Hot Dogs with Maaza, spending productive time in the kitchen, pretending to be useful at home and fighting with my parents over mundane things - just for the heck of it. I even ended up playing Nursery Rhymes on my guitar for toddlers at a friend's playschool :) These two months have been a blessing - a reward for staying away for so long. I got to spend time in the beautiful house my father created for us - the cosy nooks and crannies in my sunshine flooded room - the new house that we call home.

I don't know for sure when I will get to go back and do all of this ever again. But I'm glad that I made the most of it now and I'm thankful for this Indori Summer.

Political Incorrection

Everyone has had their share of cringy moments. Even if it is the US Chief of Protocol. How ironical is this - The Chief of Protocol slipping in front of the First Families of the US AND Mexico as she took a tentative step to welcome the latter. But then, she is after all a woman with slender black legs balancing herself on an impossible pair of shoes. Then why the hue and cry about the mishap. Well, coz we are all insecure. We are too scared of our own slips and misses that we nab every chance we get to ridicule the others. Coz the day we slip, they would definitely jeer at us.

The series of faux pas for me has been exceptionally elaborate. I have suffered from Foot in Mouth Disease ever since I remember. I have always been butter fingered. I have managed to drop glassware only when the most revered guest is gracing us with his presence. I have managed to spill food only when I’m supposed to be graceful. I have managed to enter a room without knocking the door only when I was supposed to keep away. I have had fits of blabbering only when I was expected to be quiet and impressive. I’ve been there, done that and I know how it is to think about something in the past, knit your eyebrows, gulp it down and get a weird feeling in your tummy.

But then you think to yourself, I bet everyone has their share of ‘faux pas’. Everyone regrets what they once said or did. At least you hope they did. Coz that makes you feel less stupid.

And what is life if you’re too cautious, if you’re too scared to live it out.. if you’re too scared to try going the extra mile.. Coz, if you calculate and weigh every moment.. the moment has already passed you by…

Shoed In

I am really not a good shopper. I don't have the patience to try on ten different things and then shortlist them or browse every shop in a mall before deciding what to buy. I'm one of those people who would just roam around aimlessly in the aisles and if my eyes fall upon something I like, I would pick it up. As simple as that. Also, I cannot shop for more than 2 hours. After a while I either get bored or tired or hungry, whichever sooner. But some of my friends have amazing stamina and a huge appetite for shopping. Of course a huge wallet along with that is a given. They hit the mall and shop as if they're on a mission to save the world. They start with one store, comb it down till they are satisfied and then move to the next display. They leave their house with a mental check list of sorts. They always know what exactly they want and seem to find everything all the time. I have found myself having a vague idea of what I'd like in my wardrobe next. Something as uncomplicated as a "white shirt" or "a pair of jeans". But these mall 'chicks' of prey know exactly what they're looking for - "a sequined black tank top to go with my blue skirt". What's incredible is that they find that tank top. And along with that, they buy 3 more shirts, 2 pairs of jeans that seem to be 'essentials', 3 pairs of shoes 'cause i just ADORE them!!' and earrings - that the shop assistant 'just threw in'.

I love this shopping pattern but one thing is still hard to digest. Why do they buy those 3 pairs of shoes? In their rooms I notice that there is a special place for the 50 pairs of shoes that they already own and we're still counting. They don't wear them down. They always have at least 4 pairs that can go with their outfit at a time. So why do women have this 'fetish' of owning bags, shoes, watches, belts, bangles and earrings?? Well, I have a nasty, yet simple theory behind that. And here it goes.

Clothes can go out of style. You can outgrow a pair of jeans. You may not be able to get into that LBD anymore. You may have tanned little too much to carry off a certain colour. But no matter what your weight or waistline, you can always wear those pretty shoes and strut around feeling special. You can always carry that zany tote that you picked up at some season sale and still be "en vogue". It's best to collect items and accessories that transcend boundaries built by age, weight, colour and 'fashion' as labelled by the Elle's and the Vogue's of the world that could write off the brand new pair of skinny jeans I bought weeks ago.

Thus, follow the smart ones people - the likes of Oprah Winfrey, Carrie in SATC and many many more. Invest in shoes, bags, belts and more. Because you will never grow out of them. The more the merrier. Coz I get to borrow them - a size 6 anyone???

The power to be heard

We always have so much to say but think it's futile coz we know that we won't be heard. What's the point of crying yourself hoarse when there's no one listening to you. Why make a point when it won't be appreciated. But then, what if, one fine day, you get that audience, the spotlight that you need - what point will you make then?

Amitabh Bachchan has enjoyed the spotlight for so many decades now. He and his family are always making front page news regardless of the significance of the issue. He blogs everyday. And every post of his enjoys atleast 200 comments. We can only imagine how many people follow him - coz most readers don't comment. And all these people are his die-hard fans - who hang on to every word that he writes (does he write everyday or has he hired someone to do it?) He is well read man. He can motivate, orient and raise awareness about so may pertinent issues.

Anyway, if by some stroke of luck, if I ever get the platform to be heard - what opinion would I voice? Would it be petty scoops about my son and daughter-in-law, or subliminal marketing of my movies and products that I endorse? Or would it be something bigger, something that concerns everybody, something more profound and something that enlightens, inspires and gets the people who follow my thoughts to pause and ponder on issues that really matter? Would I be too pre-occcupied by myself and my PR that I forget that the power to be heard is rare and must be used prudently? Would I spread hope and positivity or delve over controversies and create a negative influence with my words? Would I praise the goodness around me or malign the wrong deeds?

So if your voice reaches millions - use it for the greater good. Not to demand apologies and justifiy your deeds. It's not a confession box!

Step Up!

Life is so ephemeral. Yet we waste hours of the day planning, scheming, holding back and shying away. We put things off for some other day. We postpone calling the long lost friend. We ignore the small voice that asks us to say sorry to the people we've wronged. We cross people around us only to regret it when it's too late - too late to mend things, only to live with the guilt forever. We don't go that extra mile to tell our family how much we love them and care for them only to end up alone one day.

We take up the important business opportunity and leave our parents only to come back only when they're not in good shape. We laze around in calling people up, in mailing them a simple "Hi! How are you?". We don't mind losing touch with people who don't matter anymore but will, some day. We leave loose threads while we spin the webs of our lives and we end up with broken stories.

So finish your stories today. Make that call. Write to your friend. Say sorry. Go the extra mile. Go home and spend time with family. Coz Time doesn't wait for you to finish your stories. Make sure that if you don't have to loom around thanks to some unfinished business.