Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Old is Gold

And on a listless wednesday, some points of view, and assorted pieces of non-news..
and all my own work.

As my parents never fail to remind me, purane gaane are amazing. Not like today's songs that lack empathy, feeling, emotion, audible and/or decent lyrics, and "lilting, soulful" music scores. I am reminded of classic old songs that had intelligent meaningful lyrics, like "Eena Meena Dika, Dai Dama Nika", "Lal Chhadi Maidan Khadi", "Andar se koi baahar na ja sake", "Julie, I love you", "Hum Kaale hain toh kya hua dilwale hain", "Yahoo! Chahe koi mujhe junglee kahe", "I am a Disco dancer"...

A newspaper rag recently did not report the following: "Preeti and Pinky, Beaters, Falguni Pathak and other dandiya artistes recently formed an association that approached the government, the workers unions, the danidya organisers, Bharat Shah, film producers, Vijay Mallya, the Hore racing association of india, CRY, Medha Patkar, Anupam Kher, Yash Chopra, Shahrukh Khan, Karan Johar, the Phantom, Mandrake, The Western Railway Commuters Yojna, Chinchpokali Kreeda Mandal, The Lalbaug Ganpati Organisers Chit Fund, and started an SMS Campaign parallel to the Indian Idol shows. They requested all these individuals and organisations to make a dandiya coliseum where marriages, film shootings, mass pregnancies, gymnastics, and most importantly, DandiyaRaas that can be played till atleast 2.45 AM could happen like any other discotheque. Anti pregnancy pill companies rushed to sponsor different parts of the said complex as the hype grew."

When contacted, the artistes denied the allegations, saying they were either :
a) chasing the organisers for their money
b) raising a second mortgage on their home to pay for their mercedes
c) practising for a fund raiser for Gujarati under privileged women, hosted by Narendra Modi and Mallika Sarabhai"

As the cricket team prepares to get slammered in Mumbai (One Day Match tickets Rs 1000.00; T20 Match Tickets Rs 3000.00), All I ask myself is: Have monkeys evolved?

I like John Grisham novels. They are all a work in grey. No black and white heroes. All complicated tangled webs of the American Legal system. Where a single word can make a case win or lose. Where juries, and audiences are synonymous. I especially like the part where they retire to the Caribbean. Where the hero escapes from the legal system and lives it up in Europe. There was one where the hero escapes everything and his girlfriend cheats him. Even John Grisham doesnt trust intelligent beautiful women.

utekkare,

Pranay

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Festi-vali

So, yesterday I met a bank employee, who was really disgruntled.

He said that there is too much stress and tension in the Indian corporate working environment, and we need more holidays.

To this, I pointed out that he had Saturdays/Sundays off. Thats 8 days a month, and 96 days a year of relaxation. Then I showed him that he had 3 days for Ganesh Utsav, 3 days for Durga Pooja / Navratri / Dussehra, 5 days for Diwali, 2 days for Eid, 2 days for Christmas and New Year, and additional 18 such bank holidays for secularly celebrated religious holidays across all faiths, such as Gudi Padva, Moharram, Parsi New Year, Guru Nanak Jayanti, Buddha Purnima, Mahavir Jayanti, Good Friday.

I then also happened to mention that he had about 25 Casual Paid Leave Days, that he could use in combination with any or all of the above holidays and weekends to get almost a week off on occasion.

And since he worked for an MNC bank, he was scheduled to attend atleast 7-8 3-days seminars, training, holiday "character-building" camps, with paint guns, rock climbing, rappelling, and trekking, to enhance his "team building" skills. And 4 inspections outstation every month, so thats 48 days in a year.

Then, I mentioned the bandhs, the rasta-rokos, the rainy days when the trains broke down, the days when we were mourning a dead politician's death, or the day when his wife was giving birth. I also tactfully slipped in those 4 days when India was playing Pakistan during office hours.

He just smiled, and said, "Time kaise pass ho jaata hai, pata hi nahin chalta... :)"

utekkare,
Pranay

Friday, October 05, 2007

Toy Story

And when a toy breaks, it hurts. You can love a toy to bits. Watch it take baby steps, wind it up and watch it clap its hands in perfect harmony with the key unwinding in its side. You can see it give you that big smile when you make it stand on your mantelpiece as all your friends marvel at how well behaved it is.

It smiled on cue, laughed on cue, and was extremely respectful of all that moved around it. It never uttered a single word in anger or ever turned on its masters.

It was very quiet when it's batteries ran out, but it did not raise the roof or demand servicing too often. It quietly stood in a corner when you found something new to concentrate your affections on. It beamed generously when you went back to it and lavished your attentions on it. When you painted it's arms, and bought it small little accessories, you felt gratified when it bore your new accessory proudly and strutted around like a new-born toy.

It did not give you joint problems during the winter, and it did not swelter in the heat. It came with you on all your travels and gave you endless hours of pleasure after hours of hard work. You shared your toy "selflessly" with all your friends, and you even made it get all social, by buying it more toys to play with when you were unable to play with it. You got it the latest in pets, in soft toys, cutting edge technology in toy-pleasing machinery. You always made sure that it was kept in the right cupboard, and that it was clearly marked "For Greater Things".

And when the toy got older, you got it repaired at the best technicians, and you made sure it was oiled, and greased and kept in shape, as far as possible. After all, a toy cannot be kept forever, but this particular toy has great sentimental value. It was going to see you through your old age, and be the emotional crutch you could lean on. It was going to put all those other toys your friends own, into shame.

Until one day, you took your toy to play at the neighbour's. And your neighbour loved your toy far more than you could. And that neighbour decided to ask you for the toy. After all it was an old toy, and the neighbour was lonely. Suddenly, you couldnt think why someone else would love your toy as much as you did. You got all resentful, and angry. You started wondering whether that toy was actually two-timing you. Whether the toy actually meant it when it beamed at you when you made it walk up and down your mantelpiece. You no longer take out your toy to show off to your friends. You dont like to play with it anymore. Every time you take out your toy now, you think of that stupid neighbour who thought your toy was worth asking for.

And slowly, but surely, you began hating your toy. Every time it grinned at you, you got angry, and irritated, and you no longer get the time to dust the toy. All this while, it just stood there in the dark cupboard, wondering when it would see the light. You stopped playing with your neighbour, and moved to another city.

It's not your fault. You broke your toy in transit.

utekkare,

Pranay