When the bug bit my ass!

I am not a very tall man. I measure just 960.127mm from the sole of my leg to my butt.Some times I like to be reminded that I am an engineer.So I checked the length with a vernier caliper.
This length is very important.It is the metaphorical difference between my life in Miami and India. on any given weekend I would be resting either on my butt or my back depending on whether I was in the Pub or the beach. After coming to India, if my butt and my back were on the desktop, they would have been archived by now, so seldom are they used. I am most of the time on my two tired legs.
So why and how did the proverbial entrepreneurial bug bit me. honestly it didn’t. it was a Hobson’s choice. I had no other option. No one across the two continents thought I was fit enough to be hired. I lasted in my last job in USA for barely forty eight hours. I knew then, that my career is over. Now I have to look for something that I can enjoy.
But I can say that with confidence that being a entrepreneur has widened my horizons. Till now I thought that Sonia Gandhi was the best known Italian import to India. wrong. It is Pizza. She is not even second. That is pasta. I am glad. As long as both these are popular, I am in business.
Being your own boss has its own privileges. Like you could, if you wanted to, get drunk even on a hot sunny afternoon. But these priveleges are liked the air miles given by various airlines. They are hardly ever used. I stand there the whole day counting the pizzas that are being consumed. It is hard work. The pizzas cant be eaten that fast!
The worst thing is that everyone thinks that life is a Hawaiian Salad for me . one girl even commented, “ you are a lucky man. You don’t have to work!” really ! what was she thinking? I am Manmohan Singh?
I don’t think we have settled yet. Our deliveries are way behind our targets. In fact they are so bad that I think the local hospital delivers more babies than we deliver pizzas per day. I thought that we needed some aggressive marketing. So I decided to do it myself. The other day a doctor, a gynecologist came. I suggested that we also deliver. He stared at me and said disdainfully, “ very smart.”
What is it that makes a great entrepreneur. I don’t know really. And I don’t really care. I only know that as long as I am in this business, I can never sleep hungry. There is always some order messed up by one of our staff ready to be gorged.
Many youngsters come to me for advice. ME AND ADVICE! If I was that smart I would have got myself a job.
But this job has its perks. For instance, when you see a happy customer gushing that the food was awesome or overhear a staff telling his friends that he works for a great guy. Or when young Donald sends an sms that uncle your connizza is fabulous or Rehan comes and says that his dad is out of town and he told his mother that I was feeling low. So let us go to uncle’s place.
These are times when I feel a lump in my throat. Feels like it is worth all the trouble. I know i miss my writing.I am letting my readers down. But still it feels great.
My butt and back can get archived for all I care. My legs will surely not complain.

Musings.

The construction workers gape from about eighty feet down. They are awestruck. Half naked, they stare at the procession of people who visit my place. The distance is metaphoric too. Perhaps its as much the distance between the economic levels too.
They try to comprehend though. They are half clad because they cant afford. But the rich have no such reason. I sit there half clad too. Ever since I am in this God’s beautiful place, I haven’t worn a full pant many times. In fact the times I have worn, my employees stare at me like they have seen a ghost.
I am not a great believer in God. But somewhere I cant deny that I share his benevolence. He gifted me two things unique. He gave me an incredibly wonderful readership and then he gave me this wonderful city.
Every one who visits my place, compliment the fantastic view. Its breath taking. But recently some moron carelessly threw a lit stub into this beautiful dense forest causing a mini fire. It left the ground charred. The ugly mark on this beautiful forest seems like a question mark tossed by the mother nature at us , “ Are you really that evolved of species.?” We can only hang our head in shame.
I have suddenly become very busy. The Americans have a very special jargon which is not only very eloquent but very charming as well. I would like to borrow the colorful ‘ Busting my ass’ here. It perhaps conveys more than a thousand words. So readers may forgive me for the irregularity.
What is that drives the Americans to use their posterior in almost every third sentence. So you could move your ass if you are leaving or keep your ass off if you do not want to interfere. But I am going to park my ass here till I finish. No doubt about that.
It’s the love of some loyal readers that is persuasive. Thoughts come cascading but fall short of words. It is plain fatigue. Fever has quietly come as an unwelcome guest and now refusing to leave. It doesn’t help that it is almost one in the morning. The eyes are red.
Yesterday was a disturbing day. A German Shepherd had perhaps strayed from his home and was lost on the busy street. He was bewildered and blinded by the oncoming cars and lorries. The security guard and I tried hard to rescue him. But he was afraid and would suddenly run up the road. We gave up after a futile attempt of more than three quarters of an hour. I was praying all the time that he would be run by some drunken driver.
I am sure his anxious owners may have rescued him from his torment. Only a dog lover would understand the anxiety. I had one youngster last week with long hair refusing to cut his hair to get the job. He told me that he loved his hair more than anything in the world. I had to apologise since MNCs have their set of rules. But the next day this boy was there with his hair cropped. He explained that his dog had died.
It was touching. Love is priceless.
We had a lot of birthdays celebrated this month. I calculated nine months back to check the reason. Maybe it’s the summer vacation!!!!!
Keep smiling people. Life is too short to sulk.

A crisp New Year - Not Quite

There is nothing more risky than predicting future with the benefit of hindsight. I had thought nothing could be worse than 2010; a year of corruption, rising prices and non governance. We have a PM with the best resume but who gave every cynical reason to a cynical like me to believe in professional politicians rather than professionals as politicians. He almost made me nostalgic for Deve Gowda. And that means something!

Yet I was so wrong.


It’s the third day of a new year and still my cup of woes refuses to brim. My cup is what the Americans so eloquently describe while selling soda – bottom less. Miseries keep piling.

I woke up on the first day of a cracking new year with a sore throat. Then the servant bunked. While cleaning I broke a glass. One of the shards injured my hand.
As if that wasn’t enough, I woke up today with high fever. Worse I am cribbing too much.

I think I know the name of the disease. Its called old age.
Help me God. I need an extra drink. To all the youngsters reading my blog and thinking that male menopause is a myth, Think again. Or better wait till you reach there. Trust me its not funny.

There is something really funny about genes though. Yugesh, my nephew ,is imbibing some of my not so charming qualities by no fault of his. His only mistake- he is born in our family. But for me its hilarious to see some one else go through the same torment.

So , here he was booked comfortably in 2nd AC and woken up a good one hour before the train. He was to leave for Doon and there was so much time that he could even have walked to the station. A blessing really when your train is at 4 am. But people like us ,who are an evolved species, taking the comfortable trodden path is anathema. So he calls up the station, they tell his train is late, he relaxes a bit more than necessary till he knows that his train has already left. A havoc follows. i wouldnt want to embarass him with the details. I love you kid!

Be warned son, your life is full of such adventures just because of one folly. You are not even responsible for that. GENES.

The company who is doing my texture paint is owned by a very garrulous lady. She is one god’s creation. She is like a Bose sound system with no off button. She can really sap me off.
She was bugging me about my new year resolution. Chivalry forbade me from being honest.
When will people learn. If screaming was marketing, Dolly Bindra would be Rocket Singh!

This New Year .......

The scene from the corridor where I sit now is panoramic. Its lush green wherever your eyes can see. It is a sight for sore eyes and tired limbs. I feel invigorated here.

My blog is screaming for attention. I haven’t written anything for long.

I have been ordered by a few diligent fans to write something. One could be coincidence, two could be a remarkable coincidence but three! Let me flatter myself and wallow in a sense of importance. Readers do miss me. Their wish is my command.

This was a totally unplanned hiatus. My delightful English teacher would describe me and planning as oxymoron. (God bless her soul. If she were alive she would have used a hardworking PM as an example) But I had lost my creative juices. I try to find them in this serene greenery. I adore this place. I keep pinching myself to see if I am still alive or am in heaven.God let me die here.

Since yesterday I am barraged by one question. Where am I celebrating the new year! The project team from Bangalore were in a hurry to return last night in time to join the revelry. I let them go. I knew my staff wouldn’t like to waste their evening with me.

So I was treating my staff for a lunch and packing them off early. One precocious kid asked where I would be celebrating. I countered him with how do they celebrate. he said we will drink. I said I drink every day. he said we will eat out. I said I do it every day. he gave up. I know they think I am weird. They haven’t seen a guy who lives on bread, cakes and biscuits, drinks black tea and listen to strange sounding music.

Last evening I went down to check my gas bank and as I was crossing the cellar I saw a young construction worker sitting alone. My apartment owner is coming up with one multiplex and a shopping complex . so there are a lot of construction workers around. So coming back to this young man, he had hurt his foot. A carelessly thrown nail. We aren’t very particular about health and safety in india. he was down but not out. He was still grinning. He looked at my bottle. I was carrying a mineral water bottle. I felt guilty. I asked him if he wanted a drink. He said yes. I went to my apartment and brought some cookies and bananas for him. The sunshine paled in front of his large grin. He spoke halting hindi. I asked him where he came from . ‘ Chikamagalur’. He asked me if I knew it. I answered yes. PM Indira Gandhi represented it. he didn’t know. I wouldn’t blame him he was only 19. I asked him if he knew who was the PM now. He didn’t know what was a PM. he asked me what does he do. I cynically replied nothing. He missed my sarcasm.

Now as I sit here I think about the new year eve. I suddenly get an idea.
I go down the cellar and meet this kid. I ask him what he likes. ‘ Fish’ he grins. Which one. ‘ Bangda’.

Great. I tell him. Join me for dinner.

I call one of my staff and ask him to get me some nice fried Bangda and any other fish. He suggests angel. The rice that they eat here is different. I tell him to get that as well. he looks at me strangely. I ignore it. some bananas please. Anything else? 100 pipers. I change my mind. Blenders pride will do.

So here I am now . waiting for my guest. There will be no music. No candle light. We shall have no champagne. We may perhaps sit on the floor and eat. I will try eating rice with my hands.

By the time the celebrations reach its crescendo, the only music I would hear would be my snoring. But I don’t care. I had quite a few wild new years in my life. I always woke up with a hangover. This time I am sure I would wake up with a different kind of hangover.

Here’s wishing my dear readers a very happy and a prosperous new year. May your life be filled with happiness and sunshine.

And to those lovely people who still read my posts, drive safe, wear helmets and if you are walking , be sure to use a pavement. You guys are precious.

Of Bats and batting.

This has been one batty week.

Today early morning we had an unusual visitor. It must have been around five am. I was working on my laptop when there was a knock on my door. Young Tony’s mother appeared pretty nervous.

“ There’s an animal in the sink in the kitchen.”

I was surprised. We live on the second floor. Which animal could possibly enter the house.

As I went inside the kitchen, I closed the door behind me so as to not allow this visitor to enter the house.

At first he looked like a frog. I picked up the broom and thought I would pack him in a paper bag and drop him in the park. But as soon as the broom touched , he let out a gentle squeal and then spread its wings. I almost jumped out of my skin. There lay a cute baby bat all furry and vulnerable with both its wings spread.

It was still alive. So now how on earth was I supposed to see it off?

The bats traditionally have poor eyesight. They navigate themselves by a process called echolocation whereby they emit sonar waves and navigate according to the echo they receive from any obstructing object.

I know very little about bats. But the baby looked very delicate. I was afraid that I might hurt it. So I tried some gentle prods. But the baby stuck to the basin with its wings. it was almost like it glued itself.

I tried all I could but it just wouldn’t move. I went and brought Tony’s encyclopedia. Maybe I would get a clue. As I sat on the floor adjusting my glasses, I suddenly saw two dust pans inside the closet. Eureka! I got a brain wave. Maybe I could somehow pick it in the pan. It was plastic, so wouldn’t harm the baby.

I tried using one. But the baby was adamant. The wings just didn’t lift.

I thought maybe I could lift both the wings together. Then the bat would be helpless. So I took both the pans and gently eased it below both the wings at a time.

The bat squealed once, scaring me again. They have a very sharp pitched voice. Did I hurt it?

After a few minutes I tried again. Gentle yet firm. Suddenly I succeeded. The baby was now trapped between both the pans. It screamed again. But now I knew. It was more of a cry of frustration.

I opened the door of the balcony and released it. It flew away with one graceful flutter.

That reminds me of another dominating bat, this one on the field. Will we soon forget the sublime and mellifluous batting of VVS Laxman against the onslaught of the resolute Aussies? It was an innings of great character, courage and theatre. It has brought viewers back to cricket. It was such a tense match, I must consider myself lucky to have survived the excitement.

Unfortunately VVS is the most underrated batsmen. I remember Alan Border’s comment when he was dropped once. “ Wow ! You must be truly having an amazing batting line up to drop such a player.” But then our selectors play their own little games. These games are definitely not called Cricket.

Just like the CWG officials. Those corrupt men understand the psyche of the Indian people. Give them a spectacular and dazzling opening and closing ceremony and play on their patriotism. No one will really worry about the silly games!

Sweeten the bitter pill. Its easy to swallow .Corruption will bury itself in one of the big gaping ditch still left uncovered from the sham called construction.

. No wonder no corrupt politician is ever punished. I can hedge a bet on that.

Next week is Manipal again. A snag in the vehicle made me cancel today. Got barely five working days before the festival of Dusehra.

Going down to the wire! Hope the good man doesn’t finish last.

The Yin and Yang of it.

I do not know what will be the Ayodhya verdict. I am not even sure how the country will react? But I do know that it cruelly cut short my idyllic visit.

There were two school of thoughts. Some friends said that I was too inconsequential for anyone to harm me. I agreed. But others said that the frenzy of a mob doesn’t discriminate. So don’t take a chance. I agreed to that too.

But it isn’t a pleasant feeling to come back leaving your work half done. I left Manipal praying that things are good and I can return soon.

Manipal is a remarkable city built around the dreams and vision of one single man. I cant think of any other city with so many class educational institutions built with the vision of one single man. Its reputation brings an amazingly diverse student population from across the world. Old Mr. Pai can rest in peace. He did a good job.

There is something very endearing about Karnataka. The people are very charming and hospitable. I remember the last time I had stayed in Karnataka. It was another lovely town, Mysore. The year was perhaps 2008.Onal was doing her MBA and she wanted me to visit it once before she graduated.

Bengalaru is notorious as far as the traffic goes. It took me more than an hour to simply move out of the airport. Onal warned me not to take a taxi to mysore but board the bus as it would move faster. Smart advise. But I reached around midnight tired and hungry.

As I was checking in the hotel, the kind receptionist enquired if I had eaten anything. I told him that I was so tired that I wouldn’t mind a drink even if I had to go hungry. He apologized and said that their restaurant and bar was closed. My bad luck. I just grinned and said. He asked me to wait. He talked to the kitchen, I guess ,and told him that he had a guest from north and requested him to help. The man on the other side too was a thorough gentleman. He cheerfully obliged. I slept happily well fed. That is Karnataka for you. They would go the extra mile to help. I found the same hospitality here.

Coming to Manipal, it is a modern town yet uncorrupted by traffic and pollution. The eclectic crowd gives it a very cosmopolitan look. Yet it doesn’t have the ugliness of a large city.

The students are an active lot. I learnt it the hard way. A localite advised that ‘ The Blue water’ was the best bar in town. I decided to unwind there. Imagine my surprise when I found that the whole bar was reserved by some student’s community! That night all the bars had the same story. Finally I was banished to the annexe of the bar. A small room but very elegantly done. The good thing was that I had it whole to myself! The Yin and the Yang. The Chinese philosophy. The good and bad are two aspects of a single reality. How true!

I missed out the beach because it was raining. There is an added attraction to Manipal. Goa is hardly six hours from there. We have our roots in Goa. Its been a while since I have visited the Mangeshi temple, our Kul Devata ( the guardian God of our clan!). Perhaps I would be lucky enough to visit the next time.

Lata Mangeshkar, the melody queen is 81. She was everywhere on the television giving interviews. I was totally charmed. So much achieved and yet so modest. She has an aura which is hard to explain. There are so many octogenarians who look so graceful even now. I am sure they will bury us before they die.

Its all about Yin and Yang. They have more of Yang and less of Yin. I have more of Yin and less of Yang. Or is it the other way?

( Probably I must stop eating Chinese food! )

Then and Now.

How time flies! For me it flew faster than the plane I shall be boarding soon!

A very loyal reader has complained that I did not write anything on the Ganesh Puja this time. My sincere apology lady. But you will agree that unlike a cat, I do not have nine lives. I had squeezed out every ounce of experience about the various Ganesh Pujas in my life in one previous post and I doubt if there was anything new to add. But your wish is my command. So I am uploading a picture I took from the gallery of our apartment.

I looked at the merry dancers and marveled at their high energy. God is omnipresent and omniscient. He wouldn’t mind my not being in the procession. So I seek my blessings from the comfort of my home. Farewell, Lord. We eagerly await you next year.

The immersion or the Ganesh Visarjan as we call, has always been my favorite because I had got the chance to hold the hand of my first crush when I was lost in the crowd when I was a ten year old and this girl,accompanied by her parents, too was following the procession. She spotted me and held my hand! How I had prayed that the procession never ended and I was never spotted by my parents! The procession ended but the memory stayed.

Today the only hands I get to hold is maybe an old lady needing help to cross the road.

Development need not always be good. At least for a maverick like me. I find this whole air travel an affront to the joy of travel. Give me the old fashioned train travel any day. Train was so much fun. The joy of planning, the eager wait, the avalanche of human beings when the train arrived and then the long laidback travel. Reading novels and magazines, munching snacks and listening to music till sleep took over. Mumbai was where my business took me the most.

I remember the Grand Hotel and its large tubs.It used to be so relaxing to soak in the nice warm bath and feel all the muscles loosen. We joked that we should keep the door of the bath open else we could die if we slipped in it with no one to help us get out.

Getting down at the VT station and walk till the hotel was so much welcome after a long travel. A quick shower , break fast at the udipi and off to work. After finishing the work, we would explore the city. Distances were never a problem. We would travel from one end to the other. Signing off at night meant fruit juice at Haji Ali and back even if we were at Nariman point or santa cruz. Didn’t matter.

In the last one year, I went to all the major cities- Kolkata, Chennai, Mumbai and now Bengalaru. Alas, all my favorite cities. Lots of happy memories attached. But each time it was just going by one flight and returning by another with a lunch thrown in. It really didn’t matter which city you were in since all you saw was the interior of some hotel.

Today was no different. I am sitting in the airport lounge in Bengalaru and thinking wistfully of Brigade road and the popular pubs and the lovely restaurants on MG Road. I have even forgotten the names. Its been so long. Never thought time would be at such a premium.

The boarding announcement has been made and I have to sign off. Tomorrow off to the serene and pretty Manipal, Karnataka, the educational city. This would be my first time and am naturally excited. I have the whole weekend in that idyllic place. No rush rush .I am so happy. Heard so many good things about the scenic beauty there. I cant wait.

Sister warned me to be careful as the Ayodhya verdict is due tomorrow. Does it matter any more? why are we in such a time warp? we are marching towards prosperity. why squabble over petty issues?