An average middle class Indian

There was a time when I used to have an opinion on everything unimportant and a fierce disdain for everything that wasn't. Let's see if that has changed. For the last few days, I have been inviting a lot of flak for my anti Anna drama status updates on Facebook. I said maybe next time vote too, and people stormed into my Facebook wall and pissed all over it. Much like Anna himself. Only, he storms out. Which is a better option.

I will vote. I will also not fast unto death. I will not hit the roads and scream hoarse against politicians. Because hello, didn't I just say that this drama will not change anything? On Facebook, I am polite and I tell people that I just hope they are right. But in my head I know they are not. Removing corruption from a country of 2 billion people is not something that can be achieved one fine morning when a senile old man (who I sort of agreed with at the beginning of the drama. Yes, I am going to continue calling it that.) decides to scream hoarse. If you really needed him to remind you of everything that is not right, WERE YOU BLOODY SLEEPING? Or were you too busy paying your donations, and repaying your debts because of the donations, driving like mad asses because of the stress of debt, donations, fake HRA bills and such, and then paying your way out of driving tickets? The only point of view I have agreed with so far in the drama is this "Perhaps we shouldn’t even be talking about a big change. Perhaps the little changes would work just as well. Let’s wait and see. Or rather, let’s not wait and see. Let’s go out there and do our bit. How I wish guns were freely available in this country!" You can read the rest of it here. I also agreed with this, although manu Joseph does not feature in the list of my top 10 most favourite journalists.

I have EMIs to pay, and let's be honest here, I am not particularly passionate about changing the world. So contesting an election was out years ago. So was UPSC. I don't want to get my hands dirty. I love my life too much to give it up for something I only feel occasionally enthusiastic about. I will also not join the anti corruption pages on Facebook because, you know, I am not that stupid. I will ONLY vote. Of course I am going to live in India for the rest of my life or at least for most part of it, although that backpacking trip will not hurt. I love the heat and dust and monsoon and panipuri and national highways and Indian Railways and Patna and Bangalore and Bombay and rasgullas and papad and the Arabian Sea and Ma and Dad too much to ever get away from it all. So I will only vote. And if the corrupt bastards steal my money, I will just make more of it. Honestly. Deal with it. That is my solution. And trust me, that is the solution that most people will have left after the drama gets over. Because as discussed in previous chapters, guns are not easily available in the country and murder is still illegal.

Cynical? Oh yes, when it comes to this, I am. I like to call it objectivity. You can blame the guy who asked me to read my first Ayn Rand many years ago. I skipped (not literally) a huge part of Atlas Shrugged. That was not my style. Being an average middle class Indian, is.

I have said enough.

Wide eyed wonder

.. Or why I love doing what I do.

I have been quite the cynic in the last couple of years. And cynicism does not go too well with my image, if you know what I mean :D I have been in the IT city, and the flaws that I had recognized a very long time ago, had resurfaced all over again. The sheer propagation of mediocrity, the whole sham of "offsites" and tech parks that surrounds what is essentially just another job/ degree/ industry, had been laughing in my face, and I had often been questioning my own decisions. But today, at the lunch table, I realised that there are still some people in the industry who see through the sho sha for what bodyshopping is really all about, people who still believe in the sanctity of journalism, people who don't need the veil of jargon to hide their flaws and stupidity and complete lack of anything intelligent to say because they have a point of view and they know how to put it across, people who believe in doing and not just "thinking out of the box", and people who see value where it really belongs. Of course I am talking about more than one person here, and I have come home with a lot more pride in my choices and decisions, and it seems like a blessing after living in cynicism for such a long time.I can now let things be. "The point that needed proving, mostly to myself, has been proved".

And I saw Irrfan Pathan. Aren't Fridays the best?

सात रंग सतरंगा मेला

The whole world and their third cousin knows that I recently switched streams to communication. Which causes me to finally give up my long break from that thing called the newspaper. Most of the news I caught was on TV, word of mouth, social networking, and online news. I was about to write an ode to the comic strip, the only thing that I even picked up the newspaper for. Notice the past tense? Now there is no escape from the figurative rants of a million trees crying over newspapers that don't deserve circulation even in double digits, and the sheer mediocrity of journalism in India. They are not all bad, I must say that. But a lot of them are. I love Mint though. I guess I have always been an opinion person, not a fact person (which defines everything I am going to say in this post, don't kill me for it.)

I fail to understand how those that get their bread and butter from the art and science of communication, and I am not talking only about journalists here, make the lamest, most cliched grammatical mistakes ever. It is like building Taj Mahal on a very unstable foundation. And don't give me that cliched "you were just privileged to go to that school you went to, we were not all so lucky" (believe it or not, I have heard that), 1, because it sounds stupid, and 2, I am talking about people who were "more privileged" than me. They went to the brat schools, scream at the top of their lungs about their engagement rings being the size of their *PG adviced* asses, and only seem to write incorrect English. And Hindi. And nearly every other language they claim to know.

Which also brings me to the fact that I cannot escape the sham called the Commonwealth Games and the *political incorrectness alert* futility of the Ayodhya issue. Every time I read an article, see some "breaking news" comprising of a picture of a rat in the CWG village, or as much as see a Tweet, I feel like I am back in the 90's. Political scams marked all of my growing up years, especially because I grew up in Bihar. Don't get me wrong here, I love every little Bihari eccentricity, I love every Indian cliche. But that does not stop me from seeing what is wrong with the places I call my own. Especially this kind of blatant, irrational, ruthless, reckless corruption that shows. I hope the CWG does not happen here. There. I said it. There are people who have worked very hard, spoken really well, and have made an impact to make sure that India becomes synonymous with "emerging economy". I just think that all their hard work does not go to waste because a bunch of paan spitting, crass politicians decided to make a legacy for their progeny out of the budget of an International sporting event, one that could have, and would have, added to the "India story". We are a bunch of good people, we work hard, we love life, and we are not all dishonest. I read this somewhere, and I am quoting, "Also, it’s better if the rest of the world didn’t see us, than see us like this." and I couldn't agree more. I don't care about the CWG, I don't even care about the cricket world cup or any other sport for that matter. But I am amused to death at the sheer stupidity and unbelievable greed that has led the rest of the country look like such corrupt fools to the rest of the world. Unfair? I would say so.

Which now brings me to the Ayodhya issue. At the risk of sounding foolishly politically incorrect, I will say this once and for all. I don't care whether they build a temple there or a mosque, or a church, or better still, a shopping complex on the land all this ruckus is about. And I am pretty sure nobody, and I mean nobody except a few rudraksh toting/ not-rudraksh toting politicians. And as a generation, I am guessing our opinion is a tad more important than the said ancient politicians. I understand that religion was and will remain a sensitive issue for a lot of us, but I don't see any reason in this raging madness in the country over this. This may sound anti Hindu, but I am a believer. And yet, I don't know if Lord Ram was really born there or is just the protagonist of a fairy tale that got taken seriously. And the not-rudraksh toting groups already have their Mecca. Let that land be free. Maybe make a shelter for the homeless there, because heaven knows our country has enough and more places of worship, all equally crowded and totally not in keeping with the standard of purity that is associated with the idea of religion. Another thing that is irking me is the fact the judgement getting deferred. If we couldn't take a call in over a decade, what difference is another 5 days going to make? The media is flooded, no releases going through. Half a day got wasted wondering whether or not we should plan any work on Friday. And then suddenly we were wondering about next Tuesday. And that is not my only reason for being supremely irritated about the whole thing. This kind of delay is unavoidable among our people. Starting from the Honda showroom to the powers that be.

Anyway. So my thoughts are all muddled up now. I am ranting about too many things, some trivial, some not so much, in completely garbled, terribly formed sentences. So on to the trivial things. I think I will soon start posting pictures of speaker systems in all my posts, even when I write about the bird in the sky. I guess that is the only way to get some traffic from the husband's laptop. The man seems to be incapable of reading anything except work and speaker reviews on the net. I have been reading Devbagh though. Because good things come in small packages, and our December vacation has been cut short from 10 to 2 days now. But 10 days all over vs 2 days on an island, by the beach. I will have to say the beach wins.

And it is raining.

And it's Friday night. In every sense of the word.

And R finally has an unadulterated 2 day weekend.

And Jimi's Cafe calling.

Life is good :-)

Edited to add: I realised last week that if you say 5000 disconnected words to me, I will give you 5000 linked opinions about all of them. And I really need to unlearn that. When you look out of the auto on your 10 minute commute to work and judge every single person you see, you should know that it is OCD. No questions asked. Although you should know I have a thing for exaggeration.

What I have done this week

It is finally Friday. Somewhere mid week I had lost hope that this day would ever come. Ever! I have been quite the headless chicken all week, and for once I cannot blame anyone else for my "headlessness". Almost. You will know soon what I mean. What have I been up to-

1. Work. Oh work. Learn, apply, and a couple of times, unlearn and reapply. And an almost oversight. A blunt one at that. It has been crazy. Demands Fragile egos. And my obsessive need to finish everything in 8 hours, not more. I cannot begin to explain how exhausting it has been. And boy am I happy! Like I said, I am weird that way. I am also glad that word documents have taken over a lot of my excel files. I did miss the excel madness after a while, and then EOM happened. And then there was no running away from numbers. Just when words threaten to bore you, numbers come along. And words reappear before you start getting nightmares full of jumbled numbers. Perfect balance I say! Finally, finally I think this is what I was looking for. Finally.

2. Dealing with insecurity.

3. Cooking and cleaning. I always thought I did not believe in inertia. Don't ask me to explain that. But I saw an example this week. After a crazy day, I still went around getting laundry done. And how! And making full meals everyday. Folding clothes, even. It was like I was on fire and refused to stop!

4. Watching Frasier.The adorable pompousness of the Crane brothers has completely replaced the madness of Friends. I think it has something to do with age. For the last 11 years, Friends has been the background music of my life - padhai, party, cleaning, doing nothing were all always accompanied by the American canned laughter. Oh wait. It is not the canned laughter that has disappeared. Only the faces on the screen have changed.

5. Waiting. For the man who has been working late everyday. That explains a lot of the inertia and crankiness this week.

6. Watching Arnab Goswami. Every night. As usual, I am not sure why. From 12 to 1 at night, I have seen boring old men and loud old women scream their lungs out. I have seen my Biharis get kidnapped, and it only felt like the times gone by. I saw Pakistanis foolishly screaming foul. Again. This time about cricket, not terrorism. I will have to say this - with Pakistan, it is now a little difficult to see the difference. I saw Siddhu scream at rotting grains. And Nitish Kumar helpless and hapless just when the world was beginning to think that Bihar was a changed place. At least I was. And I felt sorry for myself and all those people mentioned above. And for the way me and mine entertain ourselves after days full of madness.

6. Dealing with red tape. And overcoming it. A bank locker is like a trophy these days. Banks will quote an obscene figure like Rs 3,00,000 deposit for a tiny locker. Know your rights, ladies and gentlemen, banks cannot put a condition like this to give you a locker. The RBI website clearly mentions this. So you need to know the numbers. And you need to know the branch manager's senior. Nepotism, you say? I say "loha/heera hi lohe/heere ko kaat ta hai".

6. Learning a lot about car windshields. Because ours got devastated. Bangalore rains and Bangalore greenery at their best. A big, strong branch fell on the car while R was in it. He is fine, and I don't like Bangalore again. You will know why, if you do not already.

7. Having street brawls. I have spineless creeps for neighbours. Bloody Bangalorean spineless creeps. I have never seen a bunch of creatures that claim to be alpha males in everyday existence duck, while a woman, an outsider, deals with an auto driver pointing his fist at her. Because she first refused to pay extra and did not have change. For one, I have not seen such rowdy auto drivers. And I have not seen cowards that hit or threaten to hit women, and cowards who hide behind the nearest tree in my oh so green neighbourhood when it comes to dealing with something man-to-man. I say man-to-man because apparently they take a lot of pride in their ability to do it, these bloody spineless Bangaloreans. I was angry with the neighbours for being. With the building watchman for going for an evening stroll. With R for being at work. But most of all, I am angry with myself. I have reported rigged meters, but today, when there was an issue much worse, my brain froze and refused to react constructively. So yes, I hate bloody spineless Bangaloreans. I cannot help it. I have met the worst of the lot I guess - my one time project manager, the auto and cab drivers, 3 other burly bastards who would have been better off being auto drivers, and a bunch of relatives that have made Bangalore their home for generations. All of them bloody spineless creeps. Non Bangaloreans, do not rattle on about how bad your city is. Because I want to wallow in my misery in this post, that is why I am writing it. And Bangaloreans, don't try defending. Apologize, if you just have to say something to this. Except you Chinkurli, I have to tell you that you are the only one that makes me think I have probably only been unlucky until now. So I will listen to whatever you have to say :-) (I cannot wait for my Activa. I know already that I am going to love it like one loves their protector.)

I have been operating like this on very few hours of sleep. Judge me all you want, but 6 hours is just not enough for me. I am fine, in case you are wondering. I have had a rough week, yes. But I did buy a lovely jute bag and 2 books - Shashi Tharoor and PG Wodehouse. And it is finally Friday. And there is chilled beer and rajma and Daily Bread cakes to keep me going. And the aftertaste of a session of stupid accusations that at one point threatened to turn into a full blown fight (which is always good, btw). I need this weekend.

Image courtesy: www.edupics.com

It is just SO much cooler to have insecure women child women than insecure men around. Because it means a voice box constantly threatening to explode with laughter. Or at least a loud snigger. Added benefits include finding out just how cool one is.

The brain really squirms though.

:D

The one where I judge and make politically incorrect statements

Have you heard of Varsha Dixit? I saw her book titled "Right Fir Wrong Shoe” and I picked it up on impulse, the last page mentioned Kanpur and I am a little biased towards everything that has anything to do with small towns. Although the book only reaffirms every single belief I have about that damned city and its people, barring an ex roomie, and another friend by chance who belong to that city, it is by far the worst piece of (pathetic excuse for) writing I have ever come across.

What was the woman thinking? Why did she write? At worst, that book would be chick-lit that will only entertain, nothing more nothing less. Or so I thought. But ladies and gentlemen, you take a very badly written blog with no sentence structures, too many italics and bolds and exclamation marks, make your NRI husband to bribe the publisher, and there you are - a published writer, no less! The NRI husband bit is factually correct. I am not sure about the bribing bit, but which publisher in his right mind would publish a book like this? Sample this – “when her phone rang, she kept her Kurkure ka packet…”. And this is only one example. The book is full of such words/ phrases/ sentences. This is a book for God's sake. Not a blog meant for free browsing and free airing of unnecessary opinion (like mine), no sir. It is a book I paid for. 40 pages into this disaster and I am so irritated I could flush it down the toilet. You know what? I will tonight.

I really hope this Varsha Dixit, whoever she is, googles herself on and off – and she comes across this. I think this post is considerably google optimized now too! And I really, really hope she doesn’t write again. Ever. The woman makes Chetan Bhagat seem like award winning literature.

On an unrelated note, no matter how early work starts, more often than not I am the first one to reach office. I think I should put this on my resume/ Linkedin profile. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my USP :P