Zen and art of parenting

“That was your best?” - I was shouting out of my stomach! I was furious and mad and could not get proper words in my mind. I was in the middle of our dinner preparation and looked at my son and went towards him.

My son was standing as if a deer is seeing a hungry lion right in front and have no way to run. Water was ready to gush out of his eyes any moment.

“You spent so much time in learning this, worked more than 2 hours in taking the test and almost an hour to verify, and after all you could score only 23 out of 30?” - I shouted and rushing towards him with my raised hand.

He let his tears flow out and was bracing for the next event.

“Let me tell you one thing! You are a dumb person and you have no brain to think and this is the best you can do!! I just can’t understand, what else is going into your mind other than concentrating on the test. After such bad work, If I were you, I would be ashamed of myself and won’t even eat for one full day!” - I continued as I raised my tone.

He was shocked, was in fear and was still bracing for the next event.

“You better redo the whole test and this time around I want everything to be written on a piece of paper properly and I do want to see that before you submit the answers on the computer.” - I issued my decree.

He immediately rushed to get paper and start writing the questions on it. I can see and feel that he was crying and his brain is not working at all. He was just doing out of fear of getting more yelling and that feeling in-turn was making him feel more miserable.

With all my anger, I went back to continue my cooking. I was kept on murmuring and occasionally yelling at him, my wife and my daughter for no reason. This chore continued for a while and I was  trying to get back to my stable and rational state. I dropped the knife, switched-off the stove, and walked out of the house. A gush of cold air hit my face. It felt as if it was still a mild winter day - even though we were in the middle of May. I started walking slowly in my driveway and that walk, cold breeze, the stars and the total darkness around me slowly calmed me down. Within ten minutes I was back to my normalcy and was able to think sensibly.

I started thinking and talking to me. Why exactly I yelled at my son? Seven mistakes out of 30 is not a bad deal and moreover what exactly the meaning of the right and the wrong? By yelling and making him feel miserable, what exactly I achieved? Does shouting and shaming really works?

“Yes! It does” - My alter personality argued. All kids are the same. They don’t want to work hard, don’t want to obey their parents. It is the parent’s right to bring them back to the discipline - by all means. Since they lack the peer competition that I faced, they always will lack the fire in them  to compete. I’ll revert to the ‘North Korean’ method of oppression and dictatorship to enforce my views and I’ll see that my commands are enforced.

I felt confused. One part of my brain was telling what I did was wrong and the other half was arguing that it was the right decision.

I went back and calmly told my son that we can work on the issues together. He was a bit encouraged by change in my tone and was ready to do so. I asked him “Who will go to the bathroom in the middle of a party?” 

He looked up at my eyes and said “What?”

“A Party Pooper” - I replied. My daughter faintly commented from my back aiming at me, “Then, it is you!”

My son started laughing. The situation become a bit loose. We started working and this time around I noticed that he indeed did six out of seven wrong answers worked out correctly on paper, but made the mistake in clicking the right answer in the screen. At the end of it he finished the test with all questions answered correctly. I felt very happy, vindicated and smiling and he felt relieved!

My alter ego came out again and smiled at me and said “Didn’t I tell you? - Shouting and punishment works!”; The other part immediately said “No! not that worked. It was the participative work propelled him to do things correctly. You need to be calm and encourage him positively - after all, seven mistakes out of thirty is not a bad thing.

I started realizing - The failure was not with my son, It was with me. I felt angry not because that he made mistakes, but because I was not a good teacher as I thought of myself. My feeling of my own failure turned out to be looking for someone else to be blamed. This feeling came out as angry expression at a wrong person.

At that night as I was lying next to him and trying to make him sleep, I hugged him and asked, “Were you upset with me?” without hesitation he said “Yes!” I felt really bad and whispered in his ears, “I’m very sorry the way I behaved and I promise you that this will not happen again”. 

“That’s ok” - he replied. There was an awkward silence after that. I wanted to break it.

“Do you want a story?”

He shook his head meaning yes and hugged me tightly in anticipation for a story. I wanted to narrate a story I read recently (thanks: Ram Ramanan) which might give a context to what happened earlier that day.

“Do you remember I used to go to Copenhagen?” - I started.

“Yes, you got me the viking doll when you went there for the first time” - he replied.

“That’s right! this story is about a kid like you who was doing his course in University of Copenhagen. That was his test day and  not of the test question was: "Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer.” - I stopped for a bit and asked him,

“Do you know what a barometer is?”

“Yes! it is the thing used to measure the pressure. Hmm… I know the answer for this. You need to measure the pressure in two places and the difference might give you the height!” - his eyes were wide open and I could see its brightness in that dark room.

“Well! do you want the story or tell the answer?”

“Sorry! Continue!!” - he retracted, hugging me and came a bit closer to me.

“Ok, then keep quiet and listen to the whole story”. I continued, “ As an answer to that question, one student replied: "You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building.”

My son was giggling, “That’s right too!”

I whispered in his ears, “Shhh…! Quite and listen” - and continued.

“This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed immediately. The student appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer that showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics.

For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn't make up his mind which to use. On being advised to that time was up the student scribbled down some notes and turned it over to the arbiter.

This is what the paper said. "You could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H = 0.5g x t squared. But this would be bad luck for the barometer.”

“Was that equation right?” - My son interrupted.

“Well it looks like” - I continued

“The arbiter looked at the professor, shrugged his shoulders and said – “this is not the answer that you were expecting but it is a correct answer and it does demonstrate knowledge of physics.” The arbiter ruled that the student should be given a passing grade. After the professor left the room, the arbiter looked at the student and said , “You said you were thinking of several answers – what were they?”

“Well, if the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper's shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work out the height of the skyscraper.”

"But if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in the gravitational restoring force T =2 pi square root (l /g).”

"Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up." "But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor's door and say to him 'If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper'." 

My son was giggling and said, “That was the best one!”. I continued the story.

“After the student had spouted off several of these the arbiter asked the student , “You do know the answer the professor wanted don’t you? ”

The student replied - “Of course I do, I just don’t like people telling me how to think.”

I concluded, “The student was Niels Bohr, the only Dane to win the Nobel Prize for Physics”.

My son hugged me and murmured, “You are the party pooper!” and slept!

Yes, he was wrong again and this time I wasn't angry. I was not just a  party pooper, a dumb party pooper!

Job Interview

“Thank you so much for your interest in Executive Director position; We were impressed by your skills and qualifications but another applicant has been selected for the position.”

Whether you hear it over the phone or read it in an email, it’s the same feeling every single time: the follow-up to what you thought was a great interview or series of interviews for the job of your dreams only to hit the snag of not getting hired for the position. As the news sinks in, the heart deflates a little bit, like a balloon losing its air.

Outwardly, you have to maintain your composure and politely thank the person who delivered the news for getting back in touch with you and encouraging them to keep you on file for future job openings.

In your head, it’s a completely different story. Everything gets questioned because you just don’t see how someone else could have been a better fit for the role. “That job was made for me! I had so many ideas and initiatives I wanted to test out at that new position! How could they not see it in me and want to hire me to do that thing” You wonder who got the job and secretly can’t wait to stalk their LinkedIn profile so you can point out to all of your friends that the person who did get hired is not nearly as incredible as you are. You might even take to Facebook or a news paper editorial(!) with a rant or two. Beneath the questioning though is a layer of sadness. Sadness you can’t shake off because so much time and energy was invested in applying for that job and going on interviews. More than that the shattering of the strong belief that you are the ‘best’ to be getting that position. One step closer, only to be set back two more steps. Being told “no” for the job of your dreams cuts deep. People will tell you to grow a thicker skin and not let that rejection settle in, but even the thickest skin needs to shed itself sometime.

I’ve been there before. I’ll be there again. And while I don’t like that place, I know that I need to get prepared to face that and move on. I’m not sure I want to take a professorial route, but I’d sure tell myself the following.

Do Not, I Repeat, Do Not Blame Yourself

This is not about you on a personal level. Taking a moment longer than usual to think out your response during the interview or that moment when you blinked in answering the difference between gender equity and gender equality in front of the interview panel didn’t derail your hiring chances! It definitely won’t look like it at the time, but sometimes not getting the job can actually be a blessing in disguise. Think carefully about the position you applied for. Was there anything in the job listing that made you go, “ummm I don’t know about this…” inside? Like a bigger political game you will have to be playing than usual or the setting being more conservative than you’re used to? It’s easy to shake off some of these potential worries early on, but upon being hired and adapting to the new work environment, what started off as small irks can grow to become things you complain about on a daily basis. And the last thing you want is to whine constantly about what was supposed to make you the happiest.

Don’t Kick It Completely Off the Shelf

You know what’s cool about the hiring process? Just because someone got the job of your dreams doesn’t mean that they’re going to be the right person for it for the rest of their lives. That position might open right back up in six months time again. If that happens, take it as your cue to reconnect with the person who interviewed you with an email or a message on LinkedIn to let them know you’re still interested. Much as you might have thought you were an unforgettable interview, they might have forgotten about your resume, but will be happy to hear you’re reaching out for the job again. As an added bonus, during the time that passed you’ll probably have acquired more skills to add to your resume and have fresh ideas to pass along on how you can rock that position!

Keep Pursuing Your Passions Elsewhere

Even if you have an incredible boss who really does want to see you shine in your position, that boss probably has 25+ other people to worry about in addition to you. Ask yourself what (or who) it is you love and pursue that path to the fullest. Sometimes when I feel down in the dumps I stop writing for a bit because it’s hard for the words to come out. I try to avoid hitting the dumps as much as I can because I can’t stand that feeling – writing is really, REALLY, frustrating but without engaging in the act I feel worse off. I’m just not me. Find the things you feel worse off without and keep up with them as much as you can. They’re what give your life the meaning it needs.

My favorite piece of career advice is from my dear friend Jyothiraj Malana, a pragmatic and rational person. Jyothiraj says to see your job as a means for money only and to keep your eyes on the bigger picture. “You should focus on a career only as a stream of income. Anyone looking for career fulfillment is going to be frustrated because these organizations are not out there to make us happy. Look for fulfillment through your romantic life, through travel, through personal relationships, not on the job. It ain’t there.”

“Thanks Jyothiraj” - I said loudly as I was coming back home in train thinking of my vacation with my family to Utah, as my fellow passenger suddenly woke up from deep sleep and stared at me. 

I was in all smiles, raised my hands and said, “Canyons!! Here I come”

Aging

Every occasion I come to Chennai, I get a strange feeling in my stomach. The excitement of meeting my parents combined with the fear of facing the reality made me with mixed emotions and complex feelings. During my Initial trips, it was always joyful entry out of chennai international airport, as there will be a large gathering included parents,friends and relatives waving their hands as I get out of the airport. But in the last few occasions things had changed. 

This time I walked straight and book my own trip to my place and while walking alone witnessed a group of people eagerly waiting for their loved ones to come out. I spotted a couple of dozen taxi drivers standing with play cards in their hands with names on them. For the sake of curiosity, I read them all wondering, if one could have my name on it - even though the chances are less than zero percent.

When my parents were in their 50’s and 60’s my dad was fresh out of their official retirement and waiting for exciting things to happen. Their kids went abroad, settled down, married and had kids speaking broken tamil. The airports and air travel had become their new norm of life. Suddenly they were in so much of a demand - as  they were continuously got the invitations to fly to USA, Dubai and they relished that for the first few years. Slowly as the time passed by, after 20 years, the things started changing for them, for me and for everyone around me.

The reason - Ageing (British English) or aging (American English), defined scientifically as the process of becoming older. In the narrow sense, the term refers to biological aging of human beings.

This time, the first thing hit on my face was their age. To me it looked like me living outside their space was like living in another universe with time dilation. Everyone I saw seemed to have aged a bit faster than I expected off! I can totally attribute this to my personal view point - without affecting anyone’s sentiment.

It did not stop with them, as that very morning we got a call that my uncle was admitted into the hospital as he was not feeling well. My mom and dad wanted to go immediately and wanted to take a look at him and also offer their support and extend any help if they can do to make them comfortable. We took a car immediately and rushed to see them. My uncle who is such dynamic person, who used to be my role model and a very cheerful person was sitting a wheel chair. He had become thin, a bit pale and had visible pain all over his body. 

On seeing us, he hid all his pain and suffering and threw his hands to hug me and was having tears flowing out his eyes. My dad who is his big brother spoke to him, wished him all good luck for a speedy recovery. We spent a good three hours sitting and talking about how he and my aunt were managing with their age & ailments with minimum support from outside. My uncle was so systematic, even with all his ailments, had a whiteboard, with all medications, his vital signs properly recorded and all his schedules clearly written on them. He was able to recognize all details and narrated us on what happened few days back that made him immobilized and  hospitalized. My dad and mom were giving him all supportive and encouraging words spoke to the people who were helping him to take a close attention on him. 

As we were ready to leave, he asked me, “How long will you be staying this time?”

I felt hard, with a profound realization that as everything in life, I’ve to leave the frame at one point in time. 

I replied, “I’ll be there for three full weeks. Please let me know if you need any of my help”

He smiled, suppressing all his pains, and told , “No need  my boy, I’ll make sure that we will come and see you at your place, before you leave.”

I pressed his hand in comfort and told him, “Yes! You will get back to normalcy soon and I can’t wait to see you driving and coming over to my place. Everything gonna be alright”.

I bow and touched his feet as a mark of respect, He hugged me and kissed at my cheek smiled and said, “Very nice to see you! For me it is just the phase, we are re-living my childhood”, to reflect this inability to walk and talk normally.

As we were driving back home, there was an unusual silence in the car throughout our drive back. Images of my uncle twenty years back  flowed through my mind He used to majestically deliver many of his keynote addresses on business process reengineering before the top CEOs and before young aspirants like myself. My aunt is a great author, painter and avid worker on so many social causes and various foundations. They kept themselves so busy and bubbly and were always engaged with their surroundings. Now seeing them confined to their house and mobility restricted to wheel chairs and help from the servant was a bit disturbing. However their strength to cope up with this aging and resilience made me respect them more than ever.

As we approached our house, My dad turned back to me and said, “He is nine years younger to me!”. I could see a drop of tear popping out of his eyes. As we reached, my dad his own struggle to get up, stood for few minutes, strengthened his legs. I gave my hand for his support, but he reached out to his cane, took it and with difficulty started walking slowly and steadily.

As he was walking, I stood there watching him walking away from me with my hands still extended. At that moment I felt as if the time just went past my feet so fast and an unusual feeling rumbling in my stomach. It was like the moment, when something you felt a serious of emotions, but can’t explain even a single one!

It starts with

One thing I don't know why

It doesn’t even matter how hard you try

Keep that in mind, the path of free will or not one

To explain it in due time

All I know

Time is a valuable thing

Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings

Watch it count down to the end of the day

The clock ticks life away

It’s so unreal

Didn’t look out below

Watch the time go right out the window

Trying to hold on but I didn’t even know

I wasted it all just to watch things go

at a distance helplessly where I can 

neither make or break

Daily Routine

It was 4:00 clock in Chennai, India and it was already hot, a bit humid and kind of uneasy for an early morning. As usual I was sitting in the kitchen with my mom, making me perfect dosa. Not only that she also prepared a new variety of chutney (a condiment) after referring to one of her old recipe book.

My wife, always jealous of this would comment, “your intention of going to India is just to eat Dosa’s at 4:00 AM, troubling your mom”

My daughter would intervene, “Those dosa’s are yummy and I love them too and grandma wakes up at 4:00 AM everyday”, as she was with me during my last trip. You might think it is just first few days due to the jet lag, but not so. It continued throughout our 2 week stay.

My wife, “I would never ever get up at 4:00 AM to entertain anyone in my kitchen - let alone making fresh dosas”.

My daughter took the cue, “Mommy, sorry no offense,  his mom is a better cook than my mom”

I would move out sensing that the Tom and Jerry sequence had just began!

I started eating my first dosa with the special chutney and poked her, “Mom, is it really bothering you to get up at 4:00 AM everyday”

She replied while pouring the batter onto the griddle and swirling it into a perfect circle, without taking her eyes off it, “No! it doesn’t!”

She continued, “It’s my daily routine. Wake up, have a tea and might sleep a bit more, if needed and go on with the tasks to approach the day. It is important as your dad will wake up by 5:00AM to start his daily routine”.

“Daily Routine?” - I was so puzzled that such a simple world could have such a great impact on a lifestyle.

My vacation to visit my parents this time around took a different turn as my extended family was staying there as well. It was an interesting experience as I was going through and I took this opportunity and was not surprised - as I was caught by the notion of ‘Daily Routine’.

I could see my Mom and Dad well past 70s and 80s, still were very active in taking care of their things, not only for them also be a great help to the community around them. On the contrary, the other part of the house was in a different universe. They do not wake up in time, do not eat in time, do not participate in any of the house related activities, do sit with the computer for hours and absolutely no set activity at all - at the same time expecting things to happen for them. 

I was able to see that, because of their routine, My parents have the capacity of creating a positive behavior - however the others had developing to be moochers (with Mitt Romney’s permission). I usually wondered the that is inherent human nature to create habit loops by cue and reward mechanism. It is still a puzzle for me, how difficult is for one to start developing the habit of basic structures as the formation for the routine loops.

I have found the book by Charles Duhigg ("The Power of Habit:  Why We Do What We Do in Life & Business") an excellent resource to learn how to form new habits that enhance my life & lessen the detrimental effects of the already ingrained ones that are not healthy or productive.  Just observing my parent’s fantastic modeling was a seminar in itself in improving my habits!

I asked my mom, “What is your routine like?” - I was curious to see her motivation and underlying drive to set things for her, as both of them stay home most of the time.

“It is very simple. Get up early in the morning (4:30) , have my tea, take my asthma medication(inhaler), take a small nap for fifteen minutes, then prepare the breakfast, get ready things for dad to perform his pooja, the care of the unique different needs for the extended family and plan cooking..”, she continued as she was folding the dosa on the pan with a perfect golden brown color on it.

It has been proven scientifically, that each person must determine which routines are important for him/her to imprint so they are HABITS that do not require planning or much thinking about--like the absent-minded state you are in when you drive to work every morning (for example).  It is attributed to a tissue in our brain basal ganglia which is integral to this behavior of developing habits. 

The morning tea, short nap, food preparation, interaction with all early morning vendors - such as milk, newspaper, vegetables, preparation for my dad, etc. are all automatic to my mom.  When she used to live with us she was always searching for something or missing a step as this is not her ROUTINE or HABIT & she had to THINK!

I asked her, “If I’ve to ask you how to plan or set up a routine to the other people, what would you recommend?” My intention was to get into her routine statement and to correlate with the science behind it and get a sense of her accomplishment.

She calmly replied, “Start waking up at 5 in the morning and drink water immediately. You can go back to sleep after 9 if you want on a weekend, but those 4 hours in the morning will change the way you live! Knowing that you have a head-start on the day, you will want to plan out your day, make time tables.”

She continued and insisted,  “Somehow waking up early, makes you feel good about yourself and you wouldn't want to give up on that, once you start off.”

“What do you expect them to do during those hours?” 

“The first thing to do when you wake up is plan out briefly what you need to get done that day, and the last thing you do before going to bed is check an record what you actually did.”

She emphasized, “Start writing it down in this manner:

• What did I get done today?
• What did I do for my family today?
• Did I exercise today?
• Did I care for my friends today?
• What am I grateful for today?
• What are the three good things about today?
• How can I make tomorrow better?
• How much money did I spend today?

and this will guide you automatically to a routine that will fit your lifestyle”

I knew that she keeps a notebook and writes down every expense down to a penny, before going to bed.

She concluded, “Don't get me wrong, You can catch up on your favorite TV shows and movies every weekend, but it won’t seem like a waste of time anymore. Also, remember you create your routine, but never get yourself inserted into someone else’s and be creative at all times”

It was worth a minimum of three credits in Harvard business school along with yummy dosas!

Doing Nothing and it feels...

“Nowadays, most of the time, I feel like I don’t have anything to do” - I told my wife. She raised her eyebrows and frowned at me - thinking that, here comes another classic conversation! 

I asked her, “Have you ever felt that way? Having nothing to do?” 

She started with a word of caution and said, “No!”. She continued, “How can I be like that, and you see me running around all the times, with kids and stuff”

I intervened, “It is not about you or your action, It is a strange feeling I get very often recently. I used to get many a times before and I wanted to sit down on it and analyze why and what was causing this.

She calmed down and put on her shrink hat, “ OK! What time that type of feeling comes to you?”

“Most of the times, even today just an hour ago. I finished my morning gym and came back and didn’t know what to do and slept! When I woke up I don’t know what to do”.

“Oh! you are referring to your inactivity and sleep pattern, then I understand and agree with you. You are pathetic when it comes to do some work for the people around you and excel in sleeping at any time” - She got into her groove.

“Yes, Dada - mamma is right, you sleep all the time”  - My daughter said without even raising her head from her math homework.

I wanted to have a sincere conversation on some strong feelings and ended up in the process of defending my sanity.

“Ok, Let me try to explain it a bit better. Have you even been to a library or a book shop and did not know what to look for! or have you even sat in an airport or a train station, where everyone else is buzzing around and you have no need to move your muscle?”

Both my wife and daughter were a bit more confused, I continued.

“I don’t know how to explain that feeling! I just have nothing. The emptiness and the feeling of absolute Zero”

My wife was murmuring, “Sounds like an advertisement pitch for a tax software”

I don’t know how many people have that. I used to feel this way. At work, at shops and at any given part of my life. I even used to feel this way when I was playing a game. My curiosity always was like to see what others are doing in that situation. Even when I go on a business trip, I get the question of what I’m going to do? and while going for an office meeting - what exactly is my ply in that meeting!! 

I thought of trying to observe and narrate during my trip to india that very evening.

When I was sitting this evening in Virgin Atlantic lounge in Newark airport, I saw people coming like bees, moving around, have a very specific requirement such as how fried should their  french fries be. In addition they were busy charging their phone, talking to someone or having a conversation for an obvious thing. One guy was talking to an employee there on how to get to Gate 52 and is it better to take the escalator or an elevator. On a separate but related note, we were sitting right across Gate 52. I found that interesting. On the screen, they were talking about the upcoming GOP debate and how Donald J Trump is crushing others. I was sitting there for two hours doing nothing and asking nothing.

When we started flying, I was again falling into the emptiness. I usually carry a notebook, and I used to write stories, some rudimentary poetry or try to scribble some caricatures - but this time, did nothing. I opened the computer - didn’t feel like doing anything and closed it. To my left there two women, presumably well known, as a lot of people were smiling at them and even the captain came out of his cabin to greet them. They were rumbling with the attendants, how they were troubled that no one had helped them carrying their baggages inside the plane. There was a bit of a commotion and everyone pitched in explaining their two cents.

I picked up a magazine, and could not relate to the rhetoric of Rahul Gandhi and whatever in that article are talking about his growth! One funny thing was they had a graph of popularity for the prime minister Narendra Modi and Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi. The graph on the left was showing a steady decline pattern and the one the right for Rahul showed a steep increase in popularity. On a closer look, the left side Y axis was from zero to 100 and Mr. Modi was slipping from 80% approval to 69% approval; on the right side, the same axis scale was from zero to 20 and Mr. Gandhi was growing from 7% to 20% - I just couldn’t control my laughter. I wished the person who wrote this should have had the same feeling as mine and should have kept quiet and slept instead.

We reached Brussels and an another opportunity to see a sleepy european city; absolutely nobody in the airport at that time other than few tall, caucasian women talking and laughing loudly. As I got near the transit lounge, there appeared four women wearing saree uniformly and with a polite curtness. “Sir, you can sit on this side and here is the wi-fi password, and can pick up your breakfast from this place and We’ll announce whenever the wording is ready” - I looked around the whole lounge was empty, but was still worried of repercussion, sat in the same seat she was pointing to. The moment I sat, all four of them stated looking into their computers - I wished that they can also get to my mode of not doing anything!

When I landed Mumbai, the very first step out of the aircraft, I could smell India; Every country has its own smell, which is very visible when you step into the airport. Belgium had a stark, whitish chocolate smell, Most of the american airports welcome you with a cinnamon and a over roasted coffee smell. Likewise India has a hottest, humid pungency in its ether. That smell hits you first and then embrace you and all you had done is accepting and merging into it. The airport was built really well, but somehow lacked the commercial buzz. They had recreated a gigantic open government hall with very little lighting and jaded colors. You have a few chairs randomly for no particular reason, where you can spot an airport employee snoozing. This might be a skewed observation, as you always land there in an off time. On the same token, you won’t see this in middle eastern airport hubs, where almost all the employees are from the indian sub-continent. With this I saw few of my fellow country men have nothing to do as well!

As I got transferred from the international to the domestic side of the airport, the fun began. As always I took a corner seat and started observing. Even at 1:00 hours in the morning, that place was full of action. I could see a young kid, dressed (may be over dressed) really well was shouting “Kolkata, Kolkata” - and you can see he is calling out for people who had to board the Kolkata bound plane, which was supposed to leave by 1:30 AM. At every counter there were a bunch of kids, dressed uniformly (with Jet airways coat/suit matchup). I saw a guy standing before me for the coffee machine, with his ear plugs on and might be listening to something. He got his coffee and went to his seat, and started singing loudly - without realizing his ear buds.

Another person walked up to the sitting area, resembled an FBI agent, with a hat and a long coat - who in this holy world wear a swollen coat who it was 30 deg Celsius outside - and he also had his headphones on, but he was constantly talking to someone on the other side. mind that it was around 1:30 AM and I was really worried for the person on the other side. His conversation was on till we boarded the flight roughly at 2:30 AM. Everyone coming in were super busy, talking to someone, working on their laptops - looking at a colorful excel sheet or staring at their mobile phone. Then I heard the sound “Chennai, Chennai…” Looked down and another kid dressed exactly the same shouting. I started walking towards gate 14; Hmm..this kid is not like me; he has a purpose!!

Now I had too..to catch the chennai express.

A Random Story

Yesterday night was a bit special, as we all have to go back to our regular chores after a week long holiday break. I wanted to get my daughter to sleep early so that she will be getting up in time, and as usual she was expecting a story, without which she will not close her eyes. I started randomly - a story - I started making up as and how I felt like.

It was November and a lovely sunny day in suburbs of Madurai. Back in India, it is mostly sunny and hot and however from November till January, it will be mild and pleasant. An 8-year old boy called Akshay lay by the stream a mile away from his house listening to the sounds of the countryside. The birds were singing, the cows were mooing, the lions were roaring, and the sheep were .....

Hang on, did I say lions? Yes I did, and they were heading straight for Akshay. And also I thought you knew I said earlier that we have all big 5 animals in Madurai.

Akshay stood up and saw the three fierce lions coming across the field.

He heard a noise behind him, and, looking round, saw a Himalayan black bear (bigger and stronger than grizzly) stomping towards him. On his right there were a large number of tigers staring at him, and on his left, in the stream, was a crocodile, possibly a hungry one.

There was no escape as he was approached from all sides . Akshay didn't know what to do. He thought for a moment and realized that the only way out was going downwards, so he got a spade and started to dig. But he couldn't dig fast enough - the lions were rapidly approaching, the black bear was just a few feet away, the tigers were starting to move, and the crocodile was snapping at his heels.

Suddenly, a spaceship flew down from the sky. It was huge and shaped like a big fluffy Puri. A small door opened at the bottom and a streak of bright pinkish light beamed out of that door. It focussed right on Akshay and within seconds, he was sucked into the spaceship and then it zoomed away into deep space.

"Phew, that was a close shave" thought Akshay.

Now he was flying (or travelling) through space at a speed of five hundred miles an hour. The spaceship was driven by two aliens, both called Dave. They were green with large red eyes and yellow horns. One of them was wearing a T-shirt with the words "I've been to New York and ate hot dog" across the front. The other one wore an identical T-shirt.

Akshay was pleased to have been rescued from the animal attack, but was a bit unsure about where these two Daves were taking him.

It was quite hot in the spaceship, so Akshay asked if the heating could be turned down. Unfortunately, neither Dave was quite sure how the heating system worked so one of them opened a window instead. This was a big mistake because space is a vacuum and quite capable of sucking things out of spaceships. This is exactly what happened to the two Daves - they were sucked out of the window, never to be seen again.

Akshay did shut the window immediately and had to sit down at the controls, as no one was there to drive it. He'd never driven a spaceship before and was going to have to learn fast, otherwise he'd be in big trouble. He remembered the toy his dad gave him on his 7th birthday, which was a remote controlled airplane with a joystick and a couple of buttons to control it from the ground.

He saw a red button with the letter R on it, and pressed it. The radio came on playing Living on a prayer by Bon Jovi. He immediately started singing along with that, at the same time explored other buttons. Pressing a button marked W started the windscreen wipers. He realized, that his dad had used it only when it was raining outside. Since it wasn't raining then, he immediately turned them off by pressing the W button again.

Eventually he taught himself how to control the spaceship using the steering wheel and gear stick. It was exactly same as the toy he used control except, he being inside the spaceship. He spotted a button called ‘Waze’ and pressed the navigate option and selected ‘Go Home’, which brought the spaceship down to Earth. Akshay landed the spaceship his back garden just in time for dinner.

He told his mother about his little adventure, but she told him to stop telling lies and get on with his dal and roti.

Forty years later, Akshay was 48-years old and he went on holiday to Orlando, Florida with his family. While relaxing on a beach he saw two objects falling from the sky. They landed on his towel, and, on closer inspection, Akshay realized that it was the two Daves! After all this time they had finally fallen out of space and back to Earth.

The two Daves were delighted to see Akshay, and Akshay said he would look after them. Now, although the two Daves looked the same, they were in fact completely different. One was clever, and one wasn't. Let's call them Clever Dave and Not-so-Clever Dave.

Akshay said he would drive them to a shop to get some decent clothes. Akshay got in the driving seat of his Tesla P85D, Clever Dave got in the passenger seat, and Not-so-Clever Dave got on the roof rack. When the car started to move, Not-so-Clever Dave fell off the back of the car. He had to chase after them, but as he wasn't very good at running he decided to catch a bus. He climbed on board the number 7 bus and sat on the driver's lap. The bus followed the car all the way to the South Orange Avenue Florida Mall.

In the shop inside the mall Clever Dave put on a nice black suit and tie. Not-so-Clever Dave put a shirt on his legs, some socks over his ears, a hat on his feet and some shoes on his shoulders. He thought he looked smart, but he actually looked quite ridiculous.

Then they went to Olive garden to have a meal. Clever Dave picked up his knife and fork and ate his food. Not-so-Clever Dave picked up his food and ate his knife and fork! He even said it tasted delicious. For pudding, he had the tablecloth and a lady's purse.

Not-so-Clever Dave had a lot of trouble adapting to life on Earth. He couldn't understand why people had to pay for things in shops, so he kept getting arrested for helping himself.

One day, the two Daves were making a cake for Akshay's 49th birthday. Clever Dave was mixing some flour and sugar, while Not-so-Clever Dave was mixing some eggs and dynamite. When Not-so-Clever Dave put the mixture in the oven, there was a huge explosion and both Daves were blasted back to space, never to be seen again.

Akshay was sad to loose his friends, but tried to get on with life as best he could.

Another forty years went past and Akshay was now very old. One day, he was doing some gardening when he saw an airplane flying past. There seemed to be something hanging from one of the wings, so he got his binoculars to have a better look. Suddenly, whatever it was came free from the plane and started to float down to the ground. It turned out to be two things, not one, and both of those things were Daves.

Akshay was delighted to see his old friends again, although it was a shame that Not-so-Clever Dave had landed on his flower bed. They went into the house and got something to eat, because both Daves were hungry after floating around space for 40 years.

Akshay mentioned that he wished he were young again, because being old can be a bit of a problem. Then an amazing thing happened. Clever Dave produced a pack of Magical Wishing Powder and sprinkled it over Akshay.

Suddenly, Akshay was 8 years old again! It was November and a lovely sunny day in suburbs of Madurai. Back in India, it is mostly sunny and hot and however from November till January, it will be mild and pleasant. An 8-year old boy called Akshay lay by the stream a mile away from his house listening to the sounds of the countryside. The birds were singing, the cows were mooing, the lions were roaring, and the sheep were .....

Yes, thanks to Clever Dave, Akshay was able to live his life all over again. This time though, he dug a bit faster and escaped from the animals through a tunnel. In his second life he never met the Daves, but he always had happy memories of them ...

As I finished my story to my 9 year old daughter, I wasn’t quite sure, if she had slept or not, I probed her.

“Did you understand the story??”

I felt as if she was nodding her head. I wasn’t sure even then. I pushed further with a question.

“What animals were attacking Akshay?”

She murmured “Tiger, Lions and a bear” she paused and “and a crocodile”. 

I was a bit surprised and extended my examination.

“What were the aliens wearing when he first met them?”

“Red T-Shirt with New York on it” - I started wondering, how did she come up with the red color! I continued,

“Where did Not-so-Clever Dave sit on the bus?”

“On the driver’s lap and he went to the florida mall” - She was very determined

“What did Not-so-Clever Dave mix into the cake?”

“Eggs and a dynamite” she smiled with her eyes closed.

“Do you think aliens really exist?”

“Yes” - she went into deep sleep. Now I’m completely awake and started thinking about the story I made!

A Movie, History & Bliss

Last week during my year end vacation, when my wife told to go for a hindi movie - my reaction was same as before ‘Ney!’; She is a keen watcher of all movies let alone new hindi movies. She was determined to go irrespective of my inclination. I, with the very intention of making her happy, decided to go with her. She mentioned that it was a movie based on Indian history - and that was my only interest and expectation at that time.

I was not a great lover of indian movie - a rationale built over a period of time. My expectations were not that great, but if the movie - as a creative media - could not satisfy the basic function of a good storytelling, acting and a screenplay ponders the ‘what if’, I’d treat that as a waste of time. In my opinion, Indian movies in spite of having a great viewership and a great fan following, consistently performing well under the average. However there were some movies that came out of the blue and nowhere blew my expectations. Couple of such film were Dil Chatha hai and Kahani. These outliers and were not strong enough to change my opinion that the indian movies as a package -a colossal waste of time.

My apprehension on this movie immediately changed as the colorful mastery of the director and the passionate cast and the gripping story started filling the space around me. As it started sinking in, I felt that I lived the true Maratha life, witnessed the mogul kings and the harmony of hindu and muslim culture prevailed during those days. I felt like walking through the fortress of  Shanivar Wada and the elegant and charming men and women of 18th century. When the movie ended, I could feel the pain in my heart - that a reflection of a good movie. Kudos to the director and the entire team who created and presented Bajiao Mastani.

When we are walking out of the cinema hall, my wife looked at me and asked, as if I liked the movie.

I nodded my head - with a strong emotions in my head, a sign of journey through a good content and a splendid narrative.

As I was walking back, I was also a bit ashamed of not knowing parts of the indian history - filled with inspirational stories, powerful characters and unbelievable values the people possessed and the harmony in spite of major conflicts within. I started to do my research to find out what part of the movie was fiction and what was the real and recorded history. To my surprise, it was 99% true and 1% would have been the dramatization and the storytelling fillers. I felt sad that history in our vast country was recorded in local languages and remembered and recognized only regionally. All I knew from the great Maratha empire was Chattrapati Shivaji and his son Samabaji; I wish these types of movies many be one such creative media to get the history to the people.

Shivaji was one of the most prominent and remembered of Maratha kings, however the pinnacle of the mart empire came only four generations later. The history then had powerful players such as moguls and new entrants such as British India company, Portuguese and Afghan army from Peshawar. I was surprised to know that Maratha empire in its zenith covered more than 2.8 million km² - to give a comparison, the current day India according to the Word Bank is 2.97 million km²

After Shivaji, Sambaji and his half-brother Rajaram succeeded the throne, but could not make a great impact as a ruler. The Maratha women had also had their share when Trabai took over the throne in her son's name and ruled for seven years.When Shahu, the son of Sambaji, took over the control of the Maratha empire, things started changing. Shahu, who was helped by the Peshwa’s (equivalent of a prime minister or chief minister) - recruited some of the most talented people who took the empire to the new heights - one of them was Baji Rao Bhatt.

He was the main character of this movie. He had a great tenure as a military general, his virtues could easily surpass even Alexander the great. In approximately 20 years as the Peshwa, he waged close to 40 major battles and won each and every one of them. He was extremely talented fighter as well as a great military strategist, who sharpened the guerilla warfare which Shivaji himself started against Moguls. The irony was that he as an individual outcasted and down played by his own family & friends for a his affection, relationship and desire to give his second wife, a half muslim - equal rights and social status.

The story of this movie is based on a novel Rau by N.S Inamdar, a famous Maratha novelist - which brought out the human side of this great warrior Baji Rao. Baji Rao born in a traditional Brahmin family raised by his widow mother Radhabai became one of the most trusted generals of Chattrapati Shahu had a great family and adorable wife and son. The fate in his military campaign led him to help a Rajput Maharaja Chhatrasal and got attracted to his daughter (born to a Muslim mother- and raised as Muslim) Mastani. His affection to her and his openness of his relationship, his unabated love to his wife and his son, his misunderstanding with his own mother and brothers and struggling to cope up in the middle of his military duties was the central idea of Inamdar's novel and this movie.

We have to give credit to these historians and novelists - where they piece the information based on facts and evidences with a gripping narrative. Many a times, the truth may not correlate with our own belief and our understanding based on our past sources of knowledge - that should not shy us away from listening and open to the new views and contents. In that context - this movie and the creators had done the right justice to the history and the characters they had depicted. Recognizing and remembering our past in the right way is the best thing we can do to yourself and the generations to follow.

I’m sure this will be a movie which I’ll be adding to my list of all time favorites. I'm sure you will not be disappointed as well.