Bharatanatyam Strikes A Chord

I am not an artist. Not even by a long shot. Despite this limitation, I do appreciate art in any form be it dance, painting or even movies. Thanks to Amar Chitra Katha due to which I have a fair understanding of Indian mythology, Indian classical dance forms like Bharatanatyam, Kathak or Kuchipudi do appeal to my limited aesthetic senses. Every once in a while, I watch such program(me)s on TV rather than take the effort to go to a theater or auditorium to experience them in live. So this previous Sunday when I got this invite to a Bharatanatyam dance recital, though I was excited, I was not sure if I would go or not. Finally I decided to go because I felt it was high time that I should start working on my art appreciation skills in flesh rather than watch and appreciate on cable. In hindsight, it was a good decision. It was a very professional and spirited ballet performed by a team of very committed and dedicated dancers. I was especially moved by the 'Draupadi Vastraharanam' sequence where Draupadi prays for divine intervention as the people around her become depressingly inhuman. Overall, I must say that the performance and the performers left a lasting impression on me. After this event, I have begun to appreciate art, and artists, even better. So I guess there is still hope for me.

A Date Of Opportunity

So the debate rages.... should there be a special day to express our love to others? Honestly, if you asked me, a special day for expressing such an emotion is not required. Just like we don't require special days like Diwali and Christmas to remember our Gods. Just as we pray daily, we do also express love in many forms almost every day. But what about the secret love of your life that never gets a chance to come out?  I agree that it does come out in some cases. Cases wherein you belong to the vocal and vociferous minority. After all, the vociferous minority can be vociferous about any and every topic they wish to choose. And so there is no reason that they would remain silent on as emotional a subject as love. No matter which day it is. And if they are brave enough to find a voice at that exact moment that is.

But what about the silent majority? How can they can express their true feelings to that special someone they've secretly loved for a long time and get it over with? Unlike the people with voices, the silent majority, while going through the daily rigors of life, tend to keep their feelings under wraps so as not to ruffle too many unnecessary feathers. They are afraid that the rapport and the relationship they built painstakingly over the years will crumble like a cookie the moment they try to take it to the next level. And so they remain silent waiting patiently for a small window of opportunity to present itself to help them come out. And in many cases, chances that such an opportunity will come their way is as good as winning a million-dollar lottery. In short, it can be an endless wait. So for such silent majority, if a simple date on a calendar presents that opportunity in guise of Valentine's Day, why not? After all, if it were any other normal day, the short month of February would only be half as interesting, isn't it?

A Half-filled Glass

Was watching the TV Series 'Arrow' a while back. At one point in time, the conversation between Oliver Queen and his bodyguard Diggle goes something like this:

Diggle: And I think I'm just beginning to understand the kind of man you are.
Oliver: Shouldn't take you very long. I'm shallow.

Though it was quite a simple conversation, in a way, it did say something about the character Oliver Queen a.k.a. the Arrow who's just returned to civilization after being a castaway on a deserted island for five years. In my opinion, it takes a certain level of maturity to speak of oneself in such an offhand manner. And it requires an equally sharp listener (in this case, Diggle) to understand that such a statement made in first person needn't always imply the speaker should be written off so easily. In a lighter vein, however, Oliver's reply might also apply to someone when they don't have much to talk about themselves. Like me, for instance. Especially when I have to interact with very smart individuals on a daily basis.

My line of work provides me with ample opportunities to work with some very motivated and talented people. And frankly, I am amazed at their energy, intensity and focus whenever they apply themselves to any task. I'm sure their approach to work and also life in general is much more purposeful and deliberate than mine. Whereas I prefer to take it easy and slow, I see these highly charged individuals jump at every opportunity and make the most out of it. And after a long and satisfying day at work, I see them sweating it out at the gym, at volleyball and basketball courts, playing cricket, heading out to the movies, partying or just chilling out. All in a day's work for them. And on weekends, they just let their hobbies take over or pursue their passions. Good for them.

I, on the other hand, head straight back to flip channels. Or read. Or it's game on on PS3. Or just take a catnap. Beyond that I hardly exercise my little grey cells or my triceps. Which essentially means that if someone asked me what do I do after work or what my interests were, I'd draw a blank. I prefer the contentedness of doing nothing after a long day to doing several things non-stop in 24 hours. I do admit I tried doing several things last year and did tick a few to-do's off my list. But that's seasonal and unpredictable like the monsoon, and not a daily routine. By the time the twilight takes over, while for the achievers the day's glass is half-empty, for me the day's glass is just about half-full already. And I am more than happy with a half-filled glass. For now.

But then as Oliver says, I'm shallow when it comes to such things :-)

Undiscussing Weekends on Monday Mornings

Like many of you out there, I am not a big fan of Monday mornings. And one of the things I dread on a Monday morning is the time when I come to work and my fellow workers start greeting me with the question, 'So, how did the weekend go?' So far till date, with the exception of 3-4 (make that 2-3) weekends a year, I never had had a weekend I could talk or write home about. So for some time, as an evasive tactic, I made it a habit to treat this as a rhetorical question and used to reply with my own rhetorical question, 'Good. How was yours?' Unfortunately, for most of them out there, it is not a rhetorical counter-question to a rhetorical question. Hence they get into this long description of how well their well-planned weekend went. And then there are others who moan and groan about how their well-planned weekend went awry and they had to spend that time in a very unplanned manner. Not that I have anything against such answers, but listening to them makes me think that my entire weekend, whether planned or unplanned, was an epic waste of time. 

So of late, I have started to utilize my Monday mornings for planning for the weekend ahead. I painstakingly collect all the 'how my weekend was/was not well-spent' information from my co-workers and pick the best plans (best-of-breed in software parlance) and use that the following Monday with certain subtle changes to the script, of course. Yup, not very original but it helps to have a well-scripted weekend. This way, whenever someone asks me the dreaded question, I go into this well-rehearsed prosy monologue that acts as an instant and total buzz-kill. And so when I courteously ask how theirs' went (after I'm done with my prosy buzz-kill of a monologue), they shrug it off with a mumbled 'Good.' and quietly slip away. Good. I have also begun to notice that slowly but surely more and more people have stopped asking me about my weekends and make do with a simple 'Hi' or wave from afar and walk off in a different direction as if they just remembered something important. And because of that, I have been able to appreciate my precious weekends better than before. Because for me, a weekend not discussed or compared on the following Monday morning is a weekend well-spent.

TGIF!

Guy, Interrupted a.k.a A Routine Derailed

On any given day we all have a routine. And some of us are sticklers for our routines. Even though it is a kind of routine we sometimes wish we didn't have. And it is this wish that makes us imagine how things would be if we weren't stuck in the.... well for the lack of a better word, routine. And so we sometimes pray that our dull routine will get broken some day and things will change for good, if not better. By a special someone or something. However, however much we wish things should change, we are not prepared for the change when we meet it head on. So when the change does come in the form of something (or someone), we start wishing that such a thing had never happened and that we got our good old routine back. We think the timing of the change is all wrong. But then, perhaps, it is not.

The main problem with establishing a new routine is that you always end up comparing the new one with the old. Due to this, the transition period taken for adjusting to a new routine can be very very tricky. You can't help but think, 'Ah! Life was so much simpler before.' despite the fact that your old routine might well have been anything but exciting. Or simple for that matter. The change management you need to do is really a fine balance between what your head says and what your heart's planning to do. Your head needs to be conditioned to the fact that sometimes your heart can be right too. And vice versa. This takes time. If you crack during this period, you can easily revert to your old routine, or whatever is left of it. Upon doing so, you will continue to rue about the wrecked mess you are now left with. But if you overcome this tough time, you eventually will, well.., adjust. Till that adjustment happens, you tend to oscillate in a simple harmonic motion like a pendulum. Three steps forward one day and three backwards the next. Simple? Harmonic? Biology-wise, chemistry-wise or head-and-heart-wise, it is nowhere as simple or as harmonic as Physics says it is.

Something similar happened to me a few months back. Like many of you, I have a routine and I am a stickler for it. I have a well-crafted and well-engineered routine like a pair of rails on which I coast like a train knowing where and when to start, go, stop, go, stop and come back without too much fuss. For years I have been following this schedule. So considering that I had a smooth run for a long time now, the law of averages had to catch up with me someday. And that's exactly what happened one fine day. A few months back, the routine that had kept me (usually) well-disciplined and punctual (well, most of the time) got shattered. Come to think of it, it was actually a terrible day. The weather was muggy and the sun was relentless. And the phone was constantly buzzing. And then the routine-changer thing happened. I don't want to go into the details of the incident as it would make a good story for another day. For now, suffice to say that the routine-changer came in the form of a note written in long hand. Long story short, it  wrecked my beautifully crafted long-running routine. Though I was looking forward to such a positive change for some time now, I was not prepared for it when it did finally come and hit me. It was like a scene from that war movie where the train tracks along with the bridge on which they were built get blown up right at the moment a train is passing over them. Except, in this case, the train barely managed to stop itself before the bridge blew up. In short, even though I just stopped myself short of becoming a complete train-wreck, I was completely derailed. Routine-wise. I was this guy, interrupted.

It took me a while to assess the situation. After much root cause analysis and some quick damage control measures, I began to pick up the old pieces and add some new ones to re-establish a new route/routine. I also added some new connections. Slowly I began to reassemble the pieces and am continuing to do so even now. Some of the shattered pieces are too broken to be repaired. So I am adding new pieces, removing them, and adding them again. And every time I add a new piece, it is slightly but surely altering the old time-table. Some of it is welcome, and some of it is making itself welcome. All things considered, with a little bit of filing and chiseling, the pieces are fitting. As I said, I know my routine won't be the same ever again. Even if I could hypothetically remove the routine-changing event out of my life. So, considering what has happened cannot be undone, I will continue to be busy repairing the tracks till there is a new routine up and running. Or I will build new ones wherever required. I am even considering a major overhaul so that I can build a more sophisticated one with mag-lev rails for better time management. And once finished, I hope it'll last a while. A long while before the law of averages even come anywhere near it.

So, like I said, for now I am still in that transition time. My new routine is far from ready to rock and roll. Which means I'm still swinging in simple harmonic motion, like that pendulum I was talking about. I guess once all the adjustments are done, I should be able to come out of the pendulum-ing. Frankly, I still don't know why they call that a simple harmonic motion. A very understated name for a very extreme action.

So every once in a while I can't help but keep wishing I had my old routine back!

A Slice of New York City by Day (and Night)

Another Year has arrived. Happy '13. And what better way to start with than a memorable traveling experience we had in the August of 2012. Much has been written and said about New York City. So instead of adding another few thousand words, here are some memories of a day (and night) well spent in the city that never sleeps.

NYC by night as seen from 30 Rock

Statue and the City

Radio City

NASDAQ by day

NASDAQ by night

A burglar proof window display

A Pret signboard. The write up says,
Every night we give our fresh food to the homeless in
New York rather than selling  it the next day.
It's the right thing to do.

Chocolate Shop near 30 Rock

Even the Sun takes a break at Hard Rock Cafe, NY

30 Rock

Another from 30 Rock

30 Rock (Lego)

Times Square by day

Times Square by night

Hershey's @ Times Square.
'Sometimes you feel like a nut.
Sometimes you don't.' :-)

Wheat Field with Cypresses - V. Van Gogh
Met Museum aka Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

Grand Central

NY Sightseeing, Shrek style!

NYSE

When Waiting Gets To You..

If you have ever been remotely acquainted with detective fiction, then I am sure you would have come across the line, 'In this job, more than your adversary, it is the waiting that gets to you.' More often than not, the detectives spend an incredible amount of time waiting for something to give while following a suspect or while on a surveillance mission. And it is this waiting that either proves fruitful or snaps the detective in question into doing something really stupid causing further stupid things to happen. So moral of the story, waiting can be your friend or your worst enemy. It can get you results or make you go stark raving mad.

Different moods of waiting?

This is the case in real life as well. After years of experience, I understand that it is not a good idea to make someone wait for more than a certain amount of time. I call this threshold of waiting the snapping point. Different people have different thresholds before they reach their respective snapping points. For instance, one of my friends is so good at waiting that we call him The Buddha. I, on the other hand, tend to be a little impatient. My snapping point is approximately 5 minutes (4 mins 37 secs to be precise). But to be fair, just as I expect that someone should not make me wait beyond my snapping point, I also try to make it a point to not keep people waiting beyond a reasonable limit. Excepting if it is The Buddha, of course. Despite that, my friends say that my tardiness is legendary. But there was a time when I was known for my punctuality. Over a period of time, the total waiting I did for trains, planes, automobiles, ferries and people got to me and I decided enough is enough.

Usually, when I wait beyond my snapping point, the lead idle time I get for waiting is mostly used up in working up an anxiety and an impatience of epic proportions. This eventual build-up is enough to cause me to blow a gasket. So, in order to stay out of trouble, I devised my own counter-waiting strategies. Strategies such as:

• Always plan to arrive approximately 15 minutes later than the appointed time. This saves at least 5 minutes of wait time. Nobody knows you are late because no one would have arrived yet.
• If you have to catch a train or flight, start packing for the trip just about the time you should actually be starting to the  airport or train station. The anxiety of catching your flight or train will overwhelm your revulsion for waiting. Also misplace your passport and tickets. Nothing to beat it.
• If you are stuck in transit, then put your feet up on the trolley and well, wait. I still haven't devised a better strategy for that. If it gets more boring, then instead of you snapping, start snapping pics at random. Like I did of my new footwear while waiting for a flight that was delayed by 8 hours.
• If you are on your way to meet someone, make sure that you make at least one pit stop at a crowded gas station to fill up and check tire pressure or at least get a pack of chewing gum.
• Set your watch so that it runs 12 minutes slower. 
• If you are on your way to a party or function, make sure that you DON'T factor in the time for buying the present. That way you get to spend some quality time in the gift shop.
• Make a quiet entrance if the party is already in progress. That way in case if the host spots you, you can always say that you've been there for a while mixing with the crowd. Saves you a lot of trouble.
• Just in case you do end up arriving later than the rest, and get caught, make sure you think up of a good excuse or reason. For example, a letter from the President stating that you had to take a detour to save the world, a medical certificate from a dentist stating that you were given too much laughing gas and so couldn't drive, a speeding ticket, ticket for jumping the signal, etc. Usually, a ticket for speeding or jumping the signal should do.
• In case you are driving and lost, check for directions on your smartphone in areas where reception is at best spotty.
• Do not iron your shirt or shine your shoes in advance.
• Last but not the least, do not plan. 

Put your feet up on the trolley and well, wait.

So far, these strategies have worked like a charm for me. Perhaps, in future, I might add some more to the list. But for now these seem to be working fine and I hardly get to wait for others as much as they have to do for me. As a result, they are saved from seeing my uglier side. On the flipside I'm getting to see theirs. That's OK 'cuz I'm saving approximately 4' 37" on my clock :-) On that note, I'll take leave. The Buddha has been waiting for me. Since yesterday.

Dressed for Work

Very often, I succumb to this terrible habit of not dressing up (or accessorizing as they call it nowadays) or behaving according to my regular day job requirements. And if I am not at work, my dress sense takes a either lateral shift or goes a few notches further down the style ladder. Not surprisingly, people often get confused about what I do for a living. 

As a result, till date people have mistaken me to be an intern, a courier boy, an academic, an event manager, a VJ, a writer and even my Dad's chauffeur (much to my amusement and my Dad's chagrin). And since I am courteous to a fault (or maybe because there is a practical joker hidden in me somewhere), I try to maintain the charade for as long as I can. And at the end of it, if I get discovered, everybody goes home having a good laugh. Needless to say, every unusual profession I took up temporarily turned out to be an interesting assignment in its own way. 

For instance, once on a flight, a lady co-passenger in the seat next to me asked, "Excuse me, but are you an event manager of some kind by any chance?" I thought to myself, "At least not till you mentioned it a moment ago. But go on." So for the rest of the flight, I was this failed-artist-turned-event-manager who had been turned down by studios because he didn't have a godfather and so now he was aspiring to host big ticket events in cities across India someday. I also talked about how unusual my routine was as an event manager compared to her high-paying IT job (she told me so and she looked every bit a software engineer she apparently was). I told her how I had to go about managing everything and everyone right from the stage carpenters to the incompetent but highly temperamental artists who felt that the world kissed their feet whenever they came on to the stage. By the time the flight landed, the lady was really feeling sorry for me for being in such a thankless profession but promised that I would be the first person she'd call if in case she needed any event to be hosted in future. Thankfully, so far, I have not received that call. Maybe my gripes about my profession made her rethink about hiring me. Or maybe she could afford a better event manager.

Much later, when I tried to figure out where she had gotten this outlandish idea - of me being an event manager - from, I was clueless. Was it my unusually long hair for a guy thing (usually copyrighted by rockstars)? Or was it my psychedelic tee (which happened to be a gift from a person who didn't like my choice of wardrobe) and torn jeans? Or was it that long and irritatingly loud phone conversation I had had with a co-worker of mine about a team outing while I was waiting to board the flight which I guess half the people in the airport lounge had heard that day? It could have been a combination of factors. I don't know. Perhaps, some day, I will. 

Then there was this other time when a neighboring apartment resident's mail accidentally got delivered to us. Since the apartment number happened to be the same as ours it landed in my hands. Being the good neighbor that I am, and considering that the cover indicated that it was an important letter enough and not just any other mail order catalog, I dutifully went down, knocked on the neighbor's door and handed over the letter. Before I could say anything about the mix up, the lady asks me, "Hey courier boy, don't you need some signature or proof of receipt for delivering the letter?" Well, yes, she had a point. But since I didn't need that receipt, I just said, "No ma'am, we have gone hi-tech now. All we need is a pic of you holding the mail which I can show to my manager. That should do the trick." And I whipped out my mobile, asked her to pose with a smile holding the letter, took the pic, Thanked her and walked off. So much for good neighbors' service. But I sometimes wonder if she still asks courier boys, 'Why do I have to sign this? Isn't taking a pic as proof of receipt enough?' Poor devils.

Did I tell you the one about my being mistaken for my Dad's chauffeur by his friend? As I was waiting near our car to pick up my Dad, an acquaintance of his walked up to me to offer me a job as his driver. Poaching on your friend's driver? Not a good idea. Naturally, as a principled and loyal 'employee', after some negotiations I resisted the offer, though it was tempting. He felt so good about it that he later brought it up with my Dad. The joke somehow did not go well with my Dad. 

On another occasion, a casual conversation with a very experienced, well-learned and elderly academic about poetry and literature coupled with my premature grey mop of hair led him to believe that I was an academic myself. Fortunately, better sense prevailed on me and I told him in time what I really did for a living. He was surprised and we had a good laugh about it, though secretly I enjoyed his assumption as a compliment. Well, whatever be the case, never incur the wrath of academics. Sometimes, unlike in this case, they don't tend to have a good sense of humor to understand a good joke, especially if they are the butt of it. All in all, it ended well.

Looking back, I could tell you about some more such incidents but then I would only be boring you. I am realizing now how easily people judge you and assume things about you based on the way you dress and behave. I'll have to admit that even I do that many a time. Nevertheless, it is not easy for me to always live up to or down their expectations. But when I can, I try. Just for the heck of it and as long as it does not go beyond a silly prank. After all, keeping a day job and still not looking it takes quite a bit of effort.

To-Do's of Change

My usual routine goes something like this: being a couch potato after work, a couch potato on a weekend and a couch potato in between the things I am usually supposed to do but I usually don't. Let's just say that I am the perfect living version of Dagwood Bumstead. And my couch is my constant companion in all my adventures (or lack thereof).

But earlier this year I heard someone say, "This year I want everything to change." On a normal day I would have shrugged it off and left that someone to initiate the changes while I went back to my routine. But on that day, something was wrong. Looking back, I am not sure why but at that instant, the statement made a lot of  sense to me. And so, obeying to the strange command like the Manchurian Candidate, I abandoned my couch and started to work on "This year I want everything to change." But I was still sane enough to rephrase it to "This year I want something to change." Now it felt better. And doable.

So, like that title character whatshisname from 'My Name is Earl', I drew up a detailed list of to-dos I planned to strike off hoping that in the process I would also improve my karma.

So what did I do? Its a long list but let me pick a few high points. To begin with, I started off with working on my worst fears. Of which one happens to be taking an exam. I must say that it has been a while since I last wrote an exam and so going back to the exam hall made me relive all those heebie-jeebies I used to have. But this time, strangely enough, a sense of calm and confidence I had acquired over the years kind of offset those scares. After all, it was just an exam. All I had to was give the paper my best shot and forget the rest. And I loved it. In hindsight, going back to school was definitely not a bad thing. Result notwithstanding. Moral of the story, never take an exam as if your life depended on it. Rather take it as if there are better things you can do in life than taking an exam. A certain amount of disdain always helps.

After that, to cool off the exam heat, I took to swimming. Yup! Finally! Considering that I am totally scared of water, I can proudly say that this is one of the biggest breakthroughs I made this year. Thanks to a good but persistent friend of mine. That's what good friends are for. To push you into a 6-feet pool when you least expect it. Needless to say, it felt good to conquer one fear after the other.

Two fears vanquished, I needed a break. So I traveled. And then I traveled again. Traveled to places I didn't think I would travel to. Not the kind of places they list in 1000 places to see before you die but still places worth traveling to. These places had been lingering in my travel list for a while and  I wanted to strike them off the list before I forgot all about them. Or the travel list in which they lingered.

In course of one such travel, I came across a beach and did something I always wanted to do when I hit a beach. I threw a message sealed in a bottle into the ocean. I am still waiting for whoever receives the bottle to message me back. Provided he/she understands my scrawl, that is. By sheer coincidence, a message in a bottle also happened to be on my to-do list. That's another to-do struck-off. For a while it was hard to believe that I was striking off to-dos at a breakneck speed. Well, what can I say? When it rains, it pours.

Anyways, I also struck off a few other minor things such as overcome fear of dancing in public, see a gorilla in flesh, watch all the 23 Bond movies, etc., etc. but that's for another day. Now its December and despite my best attempts, my to-do is still far from done. But the things I struck off the list gave me a lot of satisfaction. While crossing off those things, I was also able to overcome my worst fears in the only way I could. By facing them. 

So looking back, I must say that this year has kept me a bit busy. It has also made me realize that it IS possible for a guy like me to make better use of my daily quota of 24 hours. Even if I am not Jack Bauer (from '24'). Which is good news. However, before I forget, there were some downsides as well. I am no longer in sync with the plots of half the TV series I used to watch. I don't even remember the names of the characters who I used to think were permanently etched in my memory. But that's besides the point. In order to do something new, you need to get rid of something old. Especially when it comes to acquiring new habits. I learned this from some TV sitcom. I think 'My Name is Earl' it was. Who says TV sitcoms are shows about nothing? You can learn from them too.

And that my friends is what this year has taught me. And fetched me some good karma in the process. I hope. I think I will retain that list for the next season to strike off some more to-dos. Thanks Earl. And Thanks to that someone who said, "This year I want everything to change." Okay, now moving onto the next on the list, grow a mustache :-{

Making A Fool Of Myself.. And Getting Away With It

The past month has been crazy, to say the least. Besides a hectic work schedule, in the name of furthering my 'career' I had to sit in a class (spanning several sessions) where I had to shout, present, debate, dance, play a skit and essentially make a fool of myself in front of 50 people. All in the name of improving my 'soft' skills regardless of whether I needed such soft skills or not. But these sessions did teach me two things:

1. How to go about doing things that I am least interested in without showing an iota of indifference (and)
2. How to just be myself in a class who's average age was almost half of mine.

Coming to point 1., that is, on how to go about doing things that I am least interested in without showing an iota of indifference, I simply resigned myself to my fate. And decided to let go of myself without worrying about the outcome. Surprisingly, the results were much better than I expected. Somehow, getting disconnected from the surroundings helped in focusing on the task at hand and helped in doing the job better. So whether I was doing a presentation, a debate, a dance (jig would be a better word), skit or essentially making a fool of myself in front of 50 people, I didn't care and threw myself into it. But the audience (or at least the people who mattered) appreciated my attempts. And by the end of the sessions, I was feeling so good about my efforts that I even decided to give a small pat on my back. Considering that I am my own worst critic, it was indeed a rare compliment. But wait! The icing on the cake was when a girl who was an accomplished dancer and singer (who happened to be attending the same class) came up and congratulated me for my efforts. Brought back a spring into my step. Woohoo! Not bad for an amateur, if I may say so myself. So moral of the story, let go of yourself and do not worry about consequences. You will eventually hit the sweet spot or will take whatever good comes your way.

About point 2., just being myself in a class who's average age was almost half of mine, I had decided early on that if I did not attend this session there was every chance that by the time the next sessions were announced, the difference between my age and the class will increase even further. And so it would go on. I once heard that a Chinese gentleman started to learn playing a violin in his 80's! Moral of the story, when you get time to learn, you better learn. Age shouldn't matter. Thus taking the Chinese gentleman as a role model, I went ahead and attended the class. In hindsight, it did not prove to be a wrongful decision.

So if any of you out there have similar reservations about making fools of yourselves in front of several people, or attending classes with much younger classmates, take a deep breath and let go. I am sure you will surprise yourself with the outcomes. And who knows you might even end up being the hero among the group!

One Camera, Five Bridges

As it comes to a close, looking back I was surprised to see that I had crossed quite a few bridges this year. Thankfully, I had my constant travelling companion - my good old point-and-shoot camera - to capture these marvels of human engineering and make my journeys that much more memorable.

 

Godavari Rail Road Bridge, Rajahmundry, India

Godavari Rail Bridge, Rajahmundry, India

A Bridge on The Hudson (somewhere between NYC and Tarrytown)

The Golden Gate, San Francisco

Verrazzano Bridge, NYC/NJ

Silathoranam - Natural Wonder of the World

Silathoranam, Tirumala, Andhra Pradesh, India

Sometime during last November, I took a vacation and traveled to the pilgrim cities of Tirupati and Tirumala.

During this time, when people told me that Silathoranam is a must see place in Tirumala Hills, I wasn't too sure what the fuss was all about. Silathoranam, or arch of stone (Sila: Stone, Thoranam: Arch) is one of the many sightseeing places in Tirumala Hills situated about a kilometer away from the main shrine Ananda Nilayam. Legend has it that Lord Vishnu or Sri Venkateswara, the Lord of Seven Hills, is supposed to have put his first foot down at a place called Padalu or Sreevaripaadaalu (which means Divine Footprints). Sreevaripaadaalu incidentally happens to be the highest point of Tirumala hills. The second step was set at Silathoranam.

Set in a lovely forested area, the arch does look ordinary at first sight but as you see more of it and read the legend, the enormity of its uniqueness sinks in and you have an increased respect for the sight before your eyes. 

Description of  Silathoranam at the site

Silathoranam is a rare geological rock arch and only one of its kind in Asia. Geologists have confirmed that the age of this arch is around 1500 million (1.5 billion) years and the rock itself is 2500 million (2.5 billion) years old! In short, Silathoranam is a rare natural wonder of the world, just like the Niagara Falls or Mount Everest but probably much older.

Srivaari Paadaalu, Tirumala, Andhra Pradesh, India

The legend of Silathoranam, be it mythological or scientific, has reinforced my opinion about treating nature with utmost respect and humility. To say the least, it was a humbling eyeopener. And for this reason, I should Thank all those people who stoked my curiosity about Silathoranam. Truly an unforgettable place and experience.

Golden Threshold

A leaf from history.
Location: Golden Threshold, Hyderabad

The stone inscription reads, "This tree planted by Mahatma Gandhi is from a sapling grafted on the famous mango tree in Yervada Jail under which he did his fast for the removal of untouchability". Humbling. 

Golden Threshold was the erstwhile residence of Nightingale of India Smt. Sarojini Naidu. Smt. Naidu even composed a poem titled "The Golden Threshold". Now this place has been taken over by Hyderabad Central University. Thankfully, much of the original house remains intact despite being in the heart of the city.

Seven or So Secrets of Public Speaking

I believe my friends have more faith in my abilities than I do. At least one of them does. Or just because he is a Prof, he wants to prove a point about how difficult it is to hold the attention of an indifferent audience for two-and-half hours with your public speaking skills. The last time I tried the public speaking act,  I barely got away by the skin of my teeth from a crowd of overly expectant audience. You can read all about it here. So considering my track record and iffy experience, asking me to take up a similar job a second time didn't seem to be such a great idea. But as I said, my friends seem to have more faith in my abilities than I do. Or at least one of them does.

Well, good idea or bad, being a true friend in need, I committed to the job and started working on the presentation. This time around, I wanted to leave no stone unturned to make sure that the program went well. So, I prepared well. In fact, a bit too well. So what was supposed to be a two-hour presentation turned out into a three-hour sleep fest. Thankfully, the members of the audience were smart enough to ask questions to avoid nodding off their chairs. Poor devils. All said and done, it wasn't too bad. In the process I got to learn the seven secrets of public speaking.

1. Keep prodding the audience to ask questions. The more questions they ask, the better their chances of staying awake. At least some of them. It shouldn't matter that you know all the answers. You can put an all-knowing face and say with a sly smile, "Go figure it out yourself and get back to me." Also make sure you take take questions from all around the class.
2. Don't be in love with your voice. If you are, at least don't resort to frequent monologue. Even incurable insomniacs can start snoring in no time. Let others speak so that you can appreciate how good your voice is.
3. If you lose track of what you are speaking because your attention is diverted by a strikingly pretty face in the audience (which happened to me quite often this time) or you suffer from ADD (again something which I have) then stop. Take a deep breath. Resume. Pausing while not speaking sense is better than non-stop gibberish.
4. A word on time management. Don't cross the time limit and don't lose track of time. Know when to give a break. People get restless in no time. 
5. Crack jokes. Only if you have a sense of humor. Otherwise, resist the temptation. 
6. Sweep the class with your eyes. It helps to scan faces and see who's paying attention. And who is not. It helps manage the crowd better.
7. Last but not the least, know your subject, at least some of it. Speaking of which, you should also have the art of deflecting the questions in case  you don't know all the answers.

Hope the next time your friends put you in a similar spot, these lessons I learned the hard way will come in handy.

2012

 

 

Happy New Year.

Hope 2012 will be less tumultuous than 2011 and will bring much needed Peace, Joy and Prosperity across the globe.

Melbourne Diaries

Travel is tiring. Short travel more so. So, earlier this year when I was asked to travel to Melbourne for a week, I was kind of not looking forward to it. But truth be told, these days, I don't look forward to any kind of travel, be it long or short, on any given day leave alone travelling to the other side of the equator. I do admit that traveling has its perks but it also comes with the big downside of packing. I am no Ryan Bingham - that character played to perfection by George Clooney - from 'Up In The Air' when it comes to packing my bags and backpack and catch a flight at a moment's notice. If you need evidence of my limited packing skills and strategies, you should read my earlier posts on packing and packing strategies in this blog. But with not too many options left - since such decisions are taken way above my paygrade -  I reluctantly packed my bags and headed southwards.

MCG as seen from Eureka 88

Thus, after a couple of flight changes and 18 sleep-deprived hours later, I was in Melbourne (or Mel as locals usually call it).

I had been to Melbourne a few years back on a different business trip. That whole trip had lasted half a day and so I had very few vague memories of that trip. I mainly remember giving a presentation to a Victorian Government organization and spending a few hours at the sports bar in Crowne Plaza (Melbourne's Casino hotel) afterward before taking a late evening flight back to Sydney. So this time, as soon as I landed and was on my way to the city from the airport, I tried to recollect my past trip. But it was as good as being there for the first time.

Eureka 88 from hotel window

Day 0

Since it was quite late by the time I landed (thankfully!), I checked into the hotel and settled for the night. But before doing so, I looked out of my 2nd floor hotel room window and all I could see was a tall building staring back at me. I craned my neck up to check how high it was, but could not see its top. It was one monolithic dark glass pillar shooting up into the dark sky. Realizing that I hadn't got a room with a great view and so having nothing much to do, I drew on the shades and began to count sheep. Not a good start to the trip. Hotel room without a view can be a big turn off. In the morning, thanks to Google and  the reception folks, I got  to know that the tall thing blocking my view was one of the tallest buildings in Southern Hemisphere simply known as 'Eureka 88'. Some view-blocker landmark that. Later in the week, I happened to go up the viewing platform located on Eureka 88. It did have a splendid view of the city. And of the MCG. Nevertheless, it did block the view from my hotel room window.

Days 1 - 4

Riverside View of the Hotel Restaurant

The next four working days passed like a blur. It's safe to say that the high points used to be breakfast and dinners. More than the breakfast menu and spread, it was the riverside view that the hotel's restaurant offered that was the highlight. Being in a new place coupled with jet lag meant not being able to sleep well. Not being able to sleep well meant having an early breakfast. Having an early breakfast meant enjoying a breathtaking view of the city waking up to a gorgeous sunrise and people milling into work from the Mel Central Station across the river. Just watching the scene unfold was enough to charge you up for the day. 

A view of CBD from Botanical Gardens

Dinners were no less fun but for a different reason. And that was because dinners were usually long affairs that would start around eight and go on late into the night. Since Mel's CBD has a great selection of restaurants which are manned by some really good chefs, we could pick and choose a new one every evening and not be disappointed with our selection. In addition to some great dining spots in and around CBD, there is also this long strip of restaurants serving different cuisines that lines Crowne Plaza's quayside where you can dine and wine and relax after a long day's work. And with each passing evening, it was becoming clear to me as to why 'Masterchef Australia' is such a popular program out here. Melbourne folks not only love their food but also love preparing and serving it to others. Before I forget, here I must mention that in any restaurant in Mel, the one thing you should not miss is the dessert. Desserts are really out of this world. Among all the restaurants, my personal favorite was the restaurant attached to 'The Royce' on St. Kilda aptly named Dish that has a sorbet and ice cream dessert which arguably was one of the best I have had in a while. My friend mentioned that he had once spotted Adam Gilchrist having breakfast here. So I guess my taste is not as bad. As a side note, the hotel gets its name from the Rolls-Royce showroom the building once housed before it was converted into a hotel. My other dining reco would be PM24, a French restaurant on Russell Street in Melbourne CBD.

Yarra at twilight - Dinnertime!

Day 5

The action picked up on the fifth and penultimate day of my stay. Determined that I should also see other places in the city apart from the fine dining spots, I skipped breakfast (and the gorgeous view  that came with it) and set off on an all day exploration trip. Before I forget, I must Thank some of my colleagues in Mel for giving me tips about the best way to explore the city. You can cover almost the entire city by taking the public transport such as trams, buses and trains or take a free city tour offered by the Melbourne city in case you are hard pressed for time. If nothing else, you can walk along wooded avenues or take a walk in one of the many parks in and around the city. That is, if the weather is nice.

Shrine of Remembance from St. Kilda Road

I started off by walking along the St. Kilda Road past the WW II memorial (Shrine of Remembrance) and the Royal Botanical Gardens. Walking past, I couldn't help but marvel at how well the city was maintained. Staying on St. Kilda I crossed the Yarra and turned into Flinders St. and immediately merged into the bustling crowd of tourists, school going kids, college students and the rest of the city folks. From then on, for the next few hours I crisscrossed the CBD, went around Queen Victoria Market or the Vic as the locals call it, walked past street bands, bookstores, restaurants with cuisines ranging from Far East to Middle East and of course the mandatory fish and chips joints till the time I felt that I had made good use of my time. 

MCG up close

Despite the weekend crowd and traffic, at no point in time I felt that I was being jostled or pushed around and I had my space around me. I was beginning to like the experience. Never for a moment did I get the feeling that I was in a new city and a new continent. There was an innate sense of friendliness in the people. From the limited experience I have had, few cities around the world can give you that feeling. Mel certainly seemed to top the list. In this regard, the town planning council of Mel and the people truly deserve credit for making it such a well-maintained, tourist and pedestrian-friendly city.

But since I just had a day's time, I also made the best use of the hop in and out anywhere free tour that starts and ends at the Center of Arts to visit places such as MCG, the Museum and other touristy places that the tour covers.

See that white speck over the skyline?

As the evening drew to a close, I paused for a moment to see the city traffic rush by. It was around at this point I remembered that I was yet to take a souvenir back home. As I was pondering what curio I should buy (whether it should be a Kangaroo Crossing sticker, or a teddy koala, or a decorative boomerang and so on...), I happened to look up skywards and got my answer. The crescent moon shining over the dark silhouettes of the Melbourne skyline provided the scene that would long remain in my memory as a souvenir and also as a farewell gift from the city of Melbourne.

All in all, day 5 happened to be a very interesting and memorable day. Of course there was also a lingering regret that I had not seen much of the city due to lack of time.

Day 6 

Early morning flight back home. Thanks to a very gregarious Greek taxi driver the trip to the airport was not tiresome despite having to take a couple of long detours to avoid traffic. On the way, he also gave me some nice tips about what places to visit in case if I visited Greece. Ithaki or Ithaca seemed to top his personal list of favorites.

Evening Traffic crossing the Yarra

Despite ticking all the right boxes, the one spot that left me a bit disappointed was the Melbourne airport. The immigration line was pretty long and it took forever to clear the poorly ventilated and lighted hall into which we had been herded. It took almost an hour to get out and I was left with hardly any time to get onto my maiden flight on the Airbus A380.

Looking back, the trip was not as bad as I had first imagined it would be. Travel is indeed tiring. Short travel indeed more so. But this was one short trip that had tired me out for all the right reasons. Sometimes, mixing business with pleasure has its perks.

Changing Wheels

In the past one year to six months, most of my friends and colleagues have replaced their old cars with new ones. You can call it a coincidence but in my opinion it was about time they did. Most of our cars (including mine) had reached the end of their useful life or were no longer the kind of car we wished to drive. But as an exception to the rule, I haven't had the intention or the nerve to replace mine with a brand new one. While my friends are presenting me with several compelling arguments as to why I should, I have some equally valid points as to why I can't or don't wish to.

First of all, considering the crowded car market we have today, it’s not easy to zero in on the one car in particular and say with confidence that you’ve made the right choice. Imagine you wanted to buy that sleek, stylish, future-tech red sports car like sedan. Even before you could begin to convince your near and dear as to why you want to get yourself the car you want, you will first need to convince your heart and head to reach a compromise. Needless to say, your heart and head will always be at loggerheads about your selection.
 

Which car do I need?

Heart: SUV! Dude, you rule da road. And off-road. Face it. You always wanted one. Or maybe the other wedge-shaped, aerodynamic, wind-tunnel designed sleek baby which makes your original Ray-Ban Aviators that much more you.

Head:  Sleek, yes. Feline, yes. But think practical. Small, compact, stylish (make that boxy), fuel-efficient hatch. Everyone has one these days. Do you think they all are morons? And no one's going to check out your Aviators unless you are a Tom Cruise or a fighter pilot. And fyi, girls prefer guys who drive sensible cars at reasonable speeds. And there's this small problem of finance. You don't even have the budget to buy a good two-wheeler.

Do I need top-end or mid-level variant?
Heart: Pimp up your drive. Top-of-the-line leather with DIN so that you can listen to those Dev Anand oldies at full volume (Rafi's voice doesn't require a full blast but nevertheless, who knows you might even start to like heavy metal over time). And fake Recaro seats to add. And LEDs. And ...
Head: Do you really need a SUV and all that bling and chrome? Just go for that mid-level hatch variant I was telling you about. Maybe you can add some decent seats and an aftermarket stereo. Cheaper on insurance too. Until and unless you are having a mid-life crisis. And dude, did you forget? Limited budget. Make that very very limited budget.

Auto? Manual? 
Heart: Six-speed DSG. Your left hand has better things to do than fiddle with the gearstick. Like finding that right iPod track or umm picking your nose while you are stuck in stop go traffic.

Head: A simple, cheaper 5-speed manual. Easy, smooth and fuel-efficient. And admit it, you are a pro in shifting gears. And you don't like snot in your car.

Color?
Heart: Dude! RED its gonna be and RED its gonna stay!
Head: Go for the easy to maintain silver or grey. Few scratches and Red looks bled.

Engine? 
Heart: Petrol.
Head: Petrol it is! What!? They don't call me a petrolhead for nothing.
Enter Wallet: Are you nuts!? DIESEL!

Final result: A boxy, tallboy design, stay on road, everyday workhorse (or a mule) in non-metallic white. And yes, as a compromise with the heart, an afterthought aftermarket Rs. 50 Scuderia Ferrari sticker stuck on the rear windscreen. The sticker’s just to tell the guys behind you what car you wanted to buy and what you ended up with and how recklessly you are going to drive it.

In short, the car which would appeal to no one’s taste nor offend them. Neither your head, nor your heart. Nor you wallet. And nor your friends. Or your family. Or your dog. So what’s the point?

Needless to say, even before that smell of the new car wears off, every time you get behind the wheel you'd be taking a minute or two to figure out why you bought this car. Luckily, when I got my current car, I did not have as many choices nor did I have to take time to convince my head, heart, wallet and the rest of the world because truth be told, it was the perfect choice (as far I was concerned) that wasn’t a compromise. Sadly, this is no more the case with newer cars.

Anyways, just in case if I crossed this first hurdle and hypothetically decided to buy that dream car by convincing everyone and annoying no one, the next problem would be even more taxing. And that is taking a spanking new car out into the traffic. A traffic that would be considered illegal even in the Wild West. In the past few years, driving through the ever-increasing sea of unruly traffic has been like driving through choppy overflowing storm drains filled with debris that clog every major junction. Or to put it mildly, it is like navigating through rough and choppy seas filled with flotsam and jetsam. And through icebergs in the form of abnormally high road dividers. At any point in time, one can expect being dinged by something from behind or from the side or from the front. Or you could just end up hitting something or someone in a bid to avoid hitting something or someone else. And of course there are always those morons who drive as if they just robbed a bank but could not manage a clean getaway. Such incidents especially while driving a new car can cause enough damage to ruin your peace for the next few months or years for that matter. No matter how good your seamanship err steersmanship is, you cannot avoid these ding wars once you are on the road. Over a period of time you certainly get to know how that Captain of the Titanic felt when that darned iceberg dinged his brand-new boat on its maiden voyage. But with my old car, I do not have to worry about this problem. No one likes to nick a car that’s already scratched and battered on all sides.

If you still think that the above argument is not compelling enough and that I should be man enough to weather the ding wars and go ahead with purchasing a new car, think again. My next argument will stump you with just one word: Parking. The perennial problem of parking. Every time you take your car outside your garage and need to park, you end up paying “parking fees” that usually ranges from ‘not nominal’ to ‘outrageous’ to 'extortion'. In the past few years, I have spent a small fortune on parking and valét tips. Despite that, valéts across town are not too happy with my tipping. But then when you see a guy stepping out of a car that’s no longer in production and is no longer having a paint job that it once used to have, valets should not expect much. Which could be the probable reason why I usually see my car being parked at the unlikeliest of spots that otherwise would be off-limits for newer cars. For a new car, the tip would be more of an extortion in the form of keep-my-car-safe protection fee. Or to avoid valets, I'd have to park at a safe place (such as my garage) or a few kilometers away. And take a bus.

Last but not the least, the price of new cars. Thanks to the way our governments think about development and arresting development, the prices of cars in the market are enough to make you do a mental somersault about your car-buying decision. One glance at the pricelist and the words that come to mind are mind-numbing, heart-stopping and wallet-burning. Words strong enough to discourage you from entering that car showroom for a simple test-drive. No test-drive means no new-car experience and so no new car purchase. Finis.

All in all, it’s not going to be easy for anyone to convince me to buy a new car because my mind's made up on it. But before I forget, as my final trump card, I would like to mention that my battle-scarred, battered car has been like an old reliable fishing trawler that’s still seaworthy despite weathering some of the ugliest storms in its lifetime. I simply cannot part with it. Enough said. And no, it does not have a Rs.50 Scuderia Ferrari sticker on the rear windscreen and I definitely don’t drive it like I stole it.

Address That Has Become A Landmark

Baabaai Hotel, M.G. Road, Vijayawada

Baabaai Hotel is a major landmark in Vijayawada. Known for its South Indian snacks, the place can give any Udupi Hotel a run for its money. As I walked out of the hotel after having a splendid breakfast, I noticed that the hotel's signboard indicated that it was located near Alankar Theater (another famous landmark in Vijayawada). However, the signboards of shops surrounding the hotel proudly displayed that they were near or adjacent to Baabaai Hotel. An address that has become a landmark for others.