Macchars don’t wear sweaters

My feeling of superiority developed over many years, when i was amongst a few in the class to introduce ourselves as “I am so and so” as opposed to “I is so and so” or its variation “myself is so and so”; was dashed when i saw a girl on TV describing her reactions to a certain situation with “and I’s like” “and then I’s like”. And the girl couldnt even be written off disdainfully as she wasn’t of the pendu category i was hitherto used to dealing with. After repeated encounters with “I’s like”, when i had almost decided to introduce myself as “I’s Pankaj”, to not be an outdated laughing stock, i discovered that “I’s like” may actually represent “I was like”. A friend also suggested “I’s like” may stand for “I likez”, i.e., a youthful way of expressing ones preference for something.

They may have a point.

Madhur Bhandarkar’s idea of the ultimate depth of moral decadence - sleeping with a black man.

Stages of Priyanka’s moral dissipation

1. Priyanka Chopra, a nice small town girl from Chandigarh (LIES!!), is corrupted by the corrupt world of Fashion, and treats her former true friends like dirt.
2. Falling further through the moral stratosphere, she starts smoking and drinking (chee chee).
3. Continuing on her downward moral spiral, she starts going to parties.
4. Just when you thought she couldnt get any more immoral she starts taking drugs.
5. The ULTIMATE in moral hell – she sleeps with a black man (looks like a kabila dancer)(working in roadies promos these days)
6. Since it cant get any worse, she starts recovering moral ground.

Madhur Bhandarkar’s idea of realism – A bunch of drivers at a funeral “madam dil ki bahut acchi thi. bhagwan acche logon ko apne paas kyon bula leta hai“. A bunch of rich ladies at the funeral “meri nayi designer mourning Sari kaisi lagi? accha hua mar gayi, kaafi time se koi marr nahi raha tha pehen-ne ka mauka nahi mil raha tha“.

Anurag Kashyap’s idea of realism – Girls saying “choooooootiye” and “harami“. Characters with callous eyes whose sentences never have more than 5 words.

Farhan Akhtar’s idea of realism – Record all dialogues in a closed bathroom for the muffled echoing sound, with the flush in the background. Nothing else need change.

Continuing from an earlier piece “the adorable anda“,  my thoughts drifted the other night to another of my childhood Mohalla friends, who forms an equally important part of my memories of growing up. Bhatti Ustaad was hardly accorded the respect suggested by the title of this post, and was most often referred to as “Bhatti”, a take on his name Sunil Dutt Bhatt (it is said that his name was chosen because his father was a great fan of Sunil Dutt, which had me speculate what his name would have been if his father was a fan of Mithun Chakarborty or Amitabh Bacchan).

With a name which so presented itself to rhyming, it was natural for the mohalla kids to take it on, and after numerous poetic flights finally settled on the genius “bhatti ne chatti apni tatti” (i may like to believe that i first tried my hand at poetry only in my late 20s, but looking back, it seems it is here the seeds were sown).  Once it caught on, it almost became a theme for Bhatti and was repeated for his benefit at every available pretext (or variations like “bhatti ne chatti apni khatti khatti tatti“). But not the kind of person to be bogged down, and being a bold boisterous soul himself, Bhatti soon came up with a resounding retort (he thought) – “jisne kaha bhatti, usne de chatti”. The following sparring became a frequent part of our everyday playground chatter:-

us – bhatti ne chatti apni tatti

bhatti – jisne kaha bhatti, usne de chatti

This was until the andi bandi sandi fad caught on, when Bhatti decided it was time to give up his trusty retort, and used the power of andi bandi sandi to invent “jisne kaha bhatti, uski andi bandi sandi“. The consequences and implications of retorting to an andi bandi sandi were too grim for anybody to attempt it.

Bhatti’s father was the owner of a small local mechanic shop, and I remember spending many an evening at his place helping him tally his father’s records. It is pertinent to mention that this is how I came to discover Bhatti’s talent of 2 writings. He had a regular writing where every letter was disjointed and had a grotesque stoutness which would make you think he was a a retard, but magically, he could suddenly begin writing in the most beautiful flowing cursive writing surpassing every convent educated kid you ever saw. Me and others would often sit around and wonder at the mystery of Bhatti’s “2 writings”.

Bhatti spent a lot of time at his father’s garage, returning in the evenings with greased clothes and hands, and professed great knowledge on the subject of automobiles. I couldn’t help but view him admiringly, when he would thoughtfully inspect many a crippled vehicle and give his expert verdict “iske carburetor mein kachra hai“. Once we had purchased our second hand Yamaha RX 100, I would often need to go to him for his expert opinion whenever the infernal machine refused to start, at which he would inspect it with the same thoughtfulness and give the same verdict “iske carburetor mein kachra hai“. But although he was an expert, his pet vehicle was not an automobile (though he would intermittently use the Toro or old Fiat at his house if the need for speed was greater) his trademark vehicle was his black Hero Ranger, which he bought second hand from Nishu (if you remember). It was almost a part of his body, and he would seldom be seen without it. He often told stories of beating vehicles in pace and would describe the look on the drivers faces in great detail when they saw Bhatti’s cycle shoot past their motors.

Apart from helping Bhatti with his father’s records, i would often go to his place to study with him and Suresh (his cousin) whose family  lived in another section of the same floor of the same house. Here their demonic “Chandi mamaji” would come in the evenings to teach them, who struck terror in our young souls, and i can still remember the swiftness and force with which he could deliver a slap. We would be sitting around studying something, and suddenly in the blur of a mili second, a hand would fly out and CRACKK!!! a sound would echo around the room a few times, leaving everyone stunned for a minute, including the one on whose face a deep red mark and scowl had formed by now.  Chandi mamaji also introduced me to the “tripathi learning technique” according to which you should read something thrice, and if you still couldn’t memorize it, you never would.

Bhatti, who frankly wasn’t very bright at studies, developed the art of mugging to new heights. He would mug each answer of each chapter with precision, and after mugging every answer to every question word to word, he would follow that up with mugging each question to each answer, lest he forget which answer belonged to which question. But the human mind has its limits, and the fruits of Bhatti’s efforts would disappear into thin air once in the exam hall. Unfortunately this had only me to suffer. Being great chums that we were, we would often be seated one after another. My determination to not waste my time and show him anything would start to weaken when every second i would hear urgent whispers “thodi side pe karke likh” “aur side pe” “haath naa hila” and non compliance would lead to the most heart rending whispered implorations “kake, dikha de yaar please” “kake kuch nahi aata seriously KUCH nahi“. If i still managed to hold my ground there was no way i could ignore the finger he started to jab in my ribs to gain my attention – you try attempting an exam with a finger jabbing deep into your ribs from behind every second!!!

To be Continued….

Lying here in my bed, my sleep broken at an unusual early hour, listening to acoustic Pink Floyd tunes, I am tempted to write a tribute for the great musicians. Having rediscovered Pink Floyd after many years, its a subject i’ve been meaning to write on for a while, and will most likely write a more detailed piece than I can manage now. But i would certainly like the share the beautiful tunes i have been listening to the last hour.

The still and solitude of the early morning is perhaps the perfect mood for Pink Floyd. It is hardly the music of happiness, seeking to explore not a chaotic or depressed negativity, but the expanse of the dark side. Even in its negativity, the music is uplifting, and touches deep chords. Insanity is a frequent theme of its works – ‘you reached for the secret to soon‘, ‘there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky‘. Their sound and words have an incredible longing – ‘where where you, when i was hurt and i was helpless‘ ‘the days passed me by, at my window, watching‘ ‘how i wish, how i wish you were here‘. The staggering solos and chord progressions, make you wonder how such sound can be extracted from the fretboard. Notice the acoustic solos in the following videos, which are the most moving at their gentlest.

(notice the ominousness of the sound. and the music suddenly drops away at the end, for an incredibly soft solo)

Barking dogs may not bite, but spurned lovers do.

Love me for a reason, and let the reason be looks (thats why i love you)

Love me for a reason, and let the reason not be looks (or you’d run away)

All great leaders have archival memories for dirty jokes

Life is all about…….baaki sochna padega

woman on why she voted for congress – this country needs strong, young and handsome leadership

to say you love your spouse after 10 years is like chewing a gum for 2 weeks and saying its still sweet.

I saw Hurt Locker a few days back. I hadn’t heard of it before my father mentioned he had downloaded it. Apparently the movie is pretty well known, hailed as one of the best movies on the Iraq war, and an unlikely candidate for the Oscars this year. The movie follows a bomb disposal squad in Iraq, as it goes around its daily business of defusing bombs planted by insurgents.

From a movie point of view, it is immensely watchable, with gripping and tense sequences of the bomb disposal squad defusing lethal bombs. The Iraqi landscape is also beautifully portrayed – sandy, hot and war torn; shells of cars lying here and there on the roads; old buildings with curious Iraqis looking on; american humvees snaking around with modern combat geared American soldiers.

With a movie like this, one of the things i was keenly looking out for was bias in its viewpoint of the Iraqi war. Although the movie has been acclaimed as being completely neutral in its viewpoint, i found that far from the truth. The movie is majorly biased towards the American point of view.

It sometimes seems to me that there is nothing greater than Hollywood movies that gives America such an intense belief in its nobility, sensitivity and morality. The movie is far from neutral. Ekta Kapoor, although exaggeratedly, has rightly discovered the best device of conveying the moral character of  the characters. It is the eyes. The people with pained and soft eyes are good. The people with squinty and cold expressions are evil.

The movie uses the same device. American soldiers are the ones with soft and kind eyes, bewildered by their situation in Iraq, forever wanting to go back home, repulsed by death, scared of violence, attached to children, committed to save innocents, yet duty bound to remain. The insurgents are forever faceless, depicted fleetingly as steely eyes peering into the gun lens, locking down on their target, consumed by their task in a cold concentration, or as curious faces peering from rooftops, curious to see the impact of the deadly bombs planted by them, killing and using bodies of children for their evil and random acts of violence, or sometimes innocent family men.

And the common Iraqis themselves have been depicted similarly. As annoyances talking excitedly in their alien tongue, expressionless, poker faced, obstructing Americans from protecting even their own selves.

UNBIASED MOVIE?? HUMBUG!!

1. How to escape utter destruction of the world without a scratch

2. Roland Emmerich destroys the world part 3

3. Americans save the world part 1000

4. There is no better way to reunite a family than destroying the world

5. Real daddies trump step dads any day (even if its a good step dad)

6. Be an eternal optimist – Learn to smile the next morning even if 6 billion people died the previous day including your father, mother, boyfriend, and step father.

7. ALL Aboard! We’re sailin’ to Mount Everest

8. The Big Splash: Tsunami in Tibet

Any other suggestions?

Having been a student of management, and spent 5 years working, I think I am in a position to say a few things about the subject.

In terms of the response elicited by the customer in reaction to the company’s services or product, there has been an evolution in what companies aim for as follows:-

rendering of services/products > customer satisfaction > customer delight (thats where it stands right now)

In keeping with the globalization of markets, and intense competition, recessionary pressures, and the commitment by organizations to use their managerial prowess for the good of the community and society, the logical next level to vie for is customer orgasm. As responsible producers, settle for nothing less than AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh………hhhh, from the customer.  This value has the added advantage of being easy to measure. Just look for a wet spot in the crotch area.

Similarly, customer service have also climbed through different levels as follows:-

no service> customer service> customer care

for the reasons cited about, we need to be constantly pushing the limits in this area as well because we, yeah you got it, cherish our customers.  So obviously, we need to start providing customer love.  I can envision a conversation which goes like:-

Sir, mai Airtel se call kar rahi hun. kya mai aapka thoda wakt le sakti hun?

ji zaroor

Sir, apna naam batayenge?

Pankaj

Pankaj ji, i love you

Pankaj ji, aapka pichle mahine ka bill pending hai. kab tak pay kar sakte hain?

aap ghar executive bhej sakti hun bill collect karne ke liye?

aapke liye to mai kuch bhi kar sakti hun

To sign off, an invaluable lesson I’ve learnt over the past few years.  Management is not about solving problems. Its about rephrasing problems so that they’re not problems anymore.

More when i can think of more.

I came across a discussion on YouTube, a must see for anyone who is vaguely interested in the debate of religion. The video showcases a rare coming together of contemporary intellectual heavyweights, the bastion holders of rationality in our times, exponents of what is called the movement of “new atheists”. These are Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and Daniel Dennett. Apart from Dennett, I had already seen a good number of debates featuring the others, and had a fair idea of what they stood for. For a measure of their eminence, Dawkins is a renowned biologist, best selling author, voted the 3rd most influential public intellectual in the world in 2005 and one of the 100 most influential people in the word in 2007. Hitchens is a journalist and best selling author, voted the 5th most influential public intellectual in the world in 2005. Sam Harris and Dennet are also best selling authors. These are the Bertrand Russelian figures of our age, the men one supposedly turns to, for perspective, when one feels sickened by an irrational, power driven world.

The four are best known in recent times for their scathing attacks on religion, which they see as the root cause of all the evil in the world today. I have frequently seen them tear to shreds priests, rabbis and mullahs, who try to argue for the cause of a God. The thrust of their arguments is to decimate a literal belief in a greater power which created the universe, in all forms the belief may be expressed – at one end the assertion that there is a disinterested god who created the world and never interfered thereafter, and on the other end a god with all possible theological trappings – a god interested in personal human fortunes and god of miracles, one who rewards prayer and punishes sin etc.

They have also been accused of going for the “soft target”, i.e., literal belief in god and the contents of holy books (that was my impression as well before reading Dawkins “the god delusion”, and the feeling although somewhat dispelled wasn’t completely got rid of). Someone who argues for God as a real entity is always on the losing side, because it a forever un-provable proposition. I partly understand their attacks on religions underbelly, because that’s how debates are, and the fact that people who believe in religious dogma word for word comprise a vast political force, and are in the majority rather than minority around the world.

I hoped this discussion between these four intellectuals supporting the same side would unravel some deeper questions, which the question of religion leads to, which touches upon the very essence of the human condition, and the subtlest questions of philosophy – is it more important to know or to lead a wholesome life? Can one be without the other? What are morals? Where do they flow from? Religion? Human nature? Or is it a fundamental psychological need as Jung suggested? What role is faith to play in our lives? Why the universality of religion? Has it been a positive force of good rather than evil? Why is a philosopher’s misery better than ignorant bliss?

And very importantly, I wanted to know why they felt it worthwhile to devote their intellectual energies to the critique of religion, as opposed to the vast political forces at play in the world, considering the current strife around the world, the danger of nuclear war. In their world view, how come religion was the main culprit? I detected a subtle underlying discourse of something else, which i also wanted to verify.

To be continued:-