Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

He’s a pistol. Not an AK-47


2010
03.29

Daffy, the survivor. An auto ran over him when he was a baby.

For the last one month or so I have been coordinating with a local NGO, which works towards the welfare of animals, especially street dogs. I wanted to get ma boy Daffy – a little street un’ whom I feed everyday – vaccinated. Many people feed street animals but don’t vaccinate them. Besides it being a prevention measure, since a dog is a dog is a dog and it will bark, most people feel safer in the presence of a vaccinated street dog.

Finally, I called up the owner and told him very agitatedly that if we don’t vaccinate ASAP, the little fellow is going to bite someone. Paranoia will strike the neighbourhood and someone would also come after me, blaming me for the debacle. Anyways, he agreed to send his people.

They landed up at 10 am, an army of four, equipped to face the lion in his den. Except that this lion is one and a half years old, has a back that is slightly squished (an auto drove over him when he was little) and who will wag his tail at anyone who expresses a smattering of affection.

The plan was that I would take him to his usual corner where he would be fed, and then we would proceed to vaccinate. Two of the boys landed up with their dog-catcher sticks (two long poles with a noose at the end of each one). The boy started barking at them with a vengeance. I think he smelt something fishy. One chap slipped in from the other gate. He then grabbed the boy using the skin at the back of his neck, and not in the right manner. This tactic proved disastrous; Daffy peed, not one but twice out of fear, and then scampered away in fright. It was a horrific sight, and in the bargain I found myself fending off some tears. The guys looked at me as if I was a ninny. I told the dog catcher that I would go after the boy, but he must stay as many square miles away as possible.

Boy was found crouching on the porch. As dudes approached, he began barking at the ambulance and all the local dogs joined in the symphony, which pretty soon reached deafeningly-high decibel levels. I tried feeding him a biscuit, but all appetite was quashed. Finally, he came and sat next to me but refused to follow me to the ambulance.
So I finally lifted him myself (he was heavy as hell), walked towards the ambulance and sat with him in my lap. By now he had calmed down significantly.

The door was pulled shut and one chap standing at one window, held his mouth closed (gently) and another sat on the driver’s seat and gave him two quick injections. It was over in five seconds, and Daffy did not as much as wiggle.

He hopped out of the van, and I paid the folks after they took 15 whole minutes to tell me the details. In dog years that is several hours, and the dogs in the neighbourhood grew very, very agitated, howling themselves hoarse. I requested them to park the van outside the compound, but they were callous and nonchalant about it. “Madame, they also bark at our NGO,” one told me in the most sub-moronic manner. ”True, but the local people here will get very irritated and not understand what the drama is all about,” I said, and right then a man came and tossed a large stick on one of the howling dogs.

It is far fetched to expect the average pedestrian to be kind to animals, considering that they are often not kind to even humans! However, one would expect these boys from an NGO that uses celebs to promote their cause, to be both, sensitive and sensible. But no. This is a job for them, and they are not attuned to treating situations with some amount of finesse. But let me not blame mere mortals for earning a living, in a manner can sometimes prove fatal.

While I have no doubt that the owners of the NGO have the best intentions and love animals to distraction, it currently functions like a one-man show, and that is not condusive for the survival and expansion of any initiative or enterprise. When a volunteer wants to join hands to help, one is left standing for a couple of hours at the venue with no one to give you any instruction in the areas where there is much to be desired. The call-to-action is missing as is resource mobilisation. The website states that they need newspapers and clothes and things. On several occasions, I have asked them to come and collect all these items and more, neatly stashed away in garbage bags at my house. They just answer in the affirmative and never show up.

Sadly one has very few alternatives in this city that are besides being committed, are consistent in their functioning. So, one has no choice but to call this one in question since vets will never come to a street doggie, let alone any doggie even if you are ready to pay them. On a different note, many people claim to love dogs. But this is really code for approving of a particular brand of dog, that comes with beautiful sheen, costs a ton of cash, is walked and attended to by a dog walker and may eventually be abandoned by being tied to a pole somewhere.

PS: 3-year-old Rottweiler found tied to pole (abandoned by owners) in Delhi. Very docile. needs good home, desperately. call Ritu @ 9810111691

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Seeking the WOW factor


2010
03.26

READING, examining, reviewing, trashing, repositioning, writing, rewriting, editing, reediting, googling, junking, referring, discussing, dissecting, crunching, sipping (saccharine-sweet chai), designing, redesigning, instructing, tweaking, polishing, refining, chatting, smiling, giggling, coughing, blushing…I spent my 33rd birthday doing all of that in the office whilst wrapping up a magazine edition. Not drinking. Not partying. Not binging (except for a monstrously sinful cake of chocolate, cream and caramel).

My friend Dr Jo reacted with “WTF”.  So this was my (nonchalant) retort, “Excellence does not come from scuttling home at 6. A job maybe. But not excellence.”

Not that the outcome of what we do is anything near excellence. But the spirit is willing (as well as the flesh) and that I think is what matters.

The good doctor who ironically does several zombie hours from home on weekends, agreed and told me something interesting. He said,” My ex-boss before leaving gifted everyone a photoframe with something written on it. Some got good attitude, trainer hard work, and other such epithets, et al.”

Then he added,” She gave me EXCELLENCE. It’s still on my cabin wall.”

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Sweet 33, and what happened 10 years back


2010
03.26

33 promises to be a good number for me. The crap of the 20s is finito. I am in an interesting city with much exploring to be done. I like my job, which is in line with my long-terms goals (drumming sense into the recesses of young, impressionable minds), and I have good friends and family.

10 years back I was living in Anand Bungalow, a cosy little house in Pune, sharing a space with seven women (shudders!). Some were cranky, some were materialistic, some were sluts.

Cat fights were a regular feature, every now and then. One girl wrote her name on the eggs in the fridge, post a few thefts. Those were the days of random living but high thinking. Guitar sessions on the porch. Chit-chats and dissection about, which boy liked who, and why and how. Should we head off to Lonavala on bikes at 2 am or marinate for a barbeque by the Khadakwasala dam?

Every now and then we had a pathetic soul knocking on our door and asking with sincerity,” will you make frendsip with me?”, while we would giggle, meanly. I remember NDA cadets “proposing” randomly on Valentine’s Day bang in the middle of Ferguson College Road; we would giggle, meanly.

Feeling miserable is a part of “finding yourself”, a process which began for me in Pune. But I don’t ever recall ever being too miserable, except during the last flushes of love, when the flame is dying out, yet you do all you can to make it last a little longer. Destiny has other plans; it’s not meant to be. And thank God! I would have been ruing the day. But no regrets. Just memories of which, even the bad ones are good.

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Roses, deer and auntyvillle


2009
12.03
Roses, deer and old ladies
I discovered not one, but three parks in the vicinity, each frequented by folks of a different demographic.
There’s a little one (by Delhi standards ie) located a stone’s throw away from my place, mostly patronised by old ladies and middle-aged married gals living in the neighbourhood.
The peacocks in the Rose Garden are a sight to behold, when they dart across the running track, one after another. On either side of the track, you have the woods, a few stray seats and a clearing every now and then. On the other side of the park, you have a large clearing dotted rows of roses . It has the best running track of the three, and is frequented by the nouveau young (middle-aged but youthful) couples, international people and athletic-looking singles. It’s massive by any standard. This one I like best (cause of the good running track).
The Deer Park has deer, ducks and peacocks, somewhat rudimentary but workable badminton courts, and is frequented by the classes and the masses and everyone in-between. Running here is not so hot, as every now and then you need to jump over mounds of earth, being dug up for God knows what.

I discovered not one, but three parks in the vicinity, each frequented by folks of a different demographic.

There’s a little one (by Delhi standards ie) located a stone’s throw away from my place, mostly patronised by old ladies and middle-aged married gals living in the neighbourhood. Auntyville.

The peacocks in the Rose Garden are a sight to behold, as they dart across the running track, one after another. The woods sandwich the track on either side, and you have a few seats and clearings, every now and then. There’s one large clearing dotted with rose plants. This park has the best running track of the three, and is frequented by the nouveau young (middle-aged but youthful) couples, people of diverse nationalities and some very athletic-looking solo joggers. It’s massive by any standard. This one I like best; it’s pure magnificence in the midst of a chaotic Indian city.

The Deer Park has deer, ducks and peacocks and somewhat rudimentary but functional badminton courts. This one is frequented by the classes, the masses and everyone in-between. Running here is not so hot, as every now and then you need to jump over mounds of earth, being dug up for God knows what reason.

But I am not complaining. Three isn’t a crowd. It’s helping me commune with nature.

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Talking movies


2009
12.01

I recently met someone who loves talking movies; a regular guy who is neither a film-maker nor a critic, but appreciates films with a vengeance. It reminded me of the films I grew up with. So, on a whim I downloaded Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and chuckled at Dick Van Dyke’s shenanigans, for the 100th time.

But I realised two interesting things about the film, when watching it as an adult. This kiddie tale was penned by the creator of James Bond, Ian Fleming, and the screenplay was written by one of my favourite authors, whose work I read as an adult — Roald Dahl.

I was 10 years old when I saw it last. Yet, every scene played out in my mind’s eye, split seconds before it did on screen. Kind of like an echo. Sigh.

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Corny answers to corny questions


2009
08.25

My barefoot ‘n’ preggers friend Maya who fancies herself as being a gypsy in her previous life, has tagged me, and now I have to take this very corny quiz. But what the hell, here goes! Corny answers for corny questions.

1. What is your current obsession?
Can’t confess in public! Let’s just say that this week, my obsession finally turned into reality. It’s now time for a new obsession.

2. What is your weirdest obsession?
When I was younger I wanted to be thin. Now, I just want to be healthy.

3. What are you wearing today?
An abstract print top from AND, denim, a silver ring in the shape of spiral, and a secret smile.

4. What are you listening to right now?
The clickety-clack of my laptop keyboard and some very distasteful music courtesy my next-door neighbour.

5. What’s for dinner?
Depends on where I am eating, tonight.

6. What’s the last thing you bought?
A mojito

7. Which language do you want to learn?
Spanish/ Portuguese

8. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?
New York City

9. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
Austria

10. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
A very luxurious spa treatment.

11. What are your must-have pieces for summer?
My mantra for summer – less is more.

12. What is your favorite piece of clothing in your own closet?
A chocolate brown pair of party shorts, with a lace trimmings.

13. What do you do when you “have nothing to wear” (even though your closet’s packed)?
Use my credit card.

14. What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Wearing granny underpants with a slim-fit pair of trousers. The secret weapon my dears: thongs.

15. Give us three styling tips that always work for you.
Well-fitted clothes for your body type, a good haircut, smell good.

16. What’s your favorite quote?
I sleep around for pleasure. In business, I use intelligence.

17. Describe your personal style.
A mix of this ‘n’ that.

18. Who do you want to meet right now?
The Indian Government, to give them a piece of my mind!

19. What is your favorite colour?
Green ‘n’ blue, not one without the other.

20. What is your dream job?
Jazz vocalist who jetsets around the world, and hobnobs with those who play ‘n’ dig jazz.

21. What’s your favorite magazine?
Harper’s Bazaar, Business Week

22. Which TV character can you simply not tolerate?
The annoyingly anal ones in the average American sitcom ‘n’ Indian soaps centred around kitchen politics.

23. Who are your style icons?
The thirty-something magazine editor in Lipstick Jungle.

24. What are you going to do after this?
Eat lunch

25. What are your favourite movies?
Back To The Future trilogy, The Departed, Sound Of Music, Fiddler On The Roof, Guns of Navarone, The Wizard Of Oz, Gulaal, City Of God, Ocean’s 11 trilogy, Band Of Brothers,

26. What inspires you?
Nature, people, music, tragedy, cinema, poetry, global events, nothing, anything, everything.

27. Coffee or tea?
Mojito!

28. Pet peeve?
Suck-ups. Killjoys. BBBO (bad breathe, body odour)

29. What do you think about the person who tagged you?
She makes a very loyal friend, a quirky mom, a bold, compassionate woman with a child-like zest for life and all its complexities.

I tag couch potato, merril and malini to take it on!

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FACEBOOK IS HIRING


2009
07.18

I’ve turned into a self-confessed Facebook addict, so much so, that I was combing sections like ‘Careers’ and ‘About’. As per my expectations, they were as casually cool as the rest of the site. I absolutely dug this particular key note:

Innovation is paramount

No matter what part of Facebook you join, you’ll be building something big and new. You won’t simply be finding answers; you’ll be framing questions that no one has ever asked before – and identifying unprecedented opportunities. We welcome pioneers. In fact, we insist on them.

Wow.

Another key note, which instantly caught my attention:

Food

This may be our most awesome perk. Facebook provides microkitchens and lots of great, free snacks at just about all its major worldwide locations. At our Palo Alto headquarters, we also offer free breakfast, lunch and dinner at our Cafe. Whether you’re looking for healthy salads, hearty world cuisine from countries such as Belize and India, or just a couple slices of pizza, Chef Josef and his team of culinary geniuses make it happen every day.

Yum.

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BYOM(ichael)J(ackson)M party!


2009
07.05

You have pound parties and Bring Your Own Booze parties.

But the new thing is BYOMJM or Bring Your Own Michael Jackson Music party!

My friend Nishant was attending one of these shindigs this weekend, and updated me on the lingo. He was excited about it, and his own selection is already in place.

I asked him not to forget the umpteen MJ remixes that have been lovingly spun by DJs all over the world, including MC Al’s own tributes to MJ.

I downloaded a quirky remix of ‘Michael Jackson 5 – ABC I Want You Back (Ultimix remix)’ the other day.

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MOOLAH VERSUS MOJO


2009
05.13

These days I seem to meet so many people who are preoccupied with making lots of money and then using it for the sole purpose of enhancing their lifestyle.

One such yuppy, a cut-throat sales guys, wants 5 crores in his bank account. Once the deal is sealed, he will quit working for a living (expected, of course). He will completely indulge by playing with the most cutting-edge gadgets, drive the fastest cars, live in a fancy mansion, et al. Sigh. Such a cliché.

The dream figure for another is 100 crores. If he were to hit the jackpot, he might get into philanthropy or even turn entrepreneur, he said with such a casual air that it brought to mind a high society type (and this is me stereotyping) who organises a big ticket charity event to help poor people, but for whom poverty is a concept. Now here’s a smart, intelligent, well-read, well-educated IIM graduate with no life goal (except for getting rich) and no burning passion, which isn’t driven by money or fame.

Some people take long while to zero in on what drives them, and to really feel the passion. But some people aren’t looking, period. I think it’s sad that people with potential and all the credentials, don’t feel the love. Maybe one gets cynical post experiencing the murky side of corporate life, but eventually, I think for those who are truly motivated by something other than money and fame, they get their creative mojo back. And when it hits you, boy, it does with a bang!

It’s this extra something, which makes us committed and have a personal stake in the bigger picture. In Mumbai, I met many people who are passionate about something, and it doesn’t stem from material aspirations. They give their all sans expectation, and unconditionally.

I miss meeting people like that; they are so much more inspiring and those who want only money and fame.

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BABY TRAIN


2009
05.08

The sofa has helped me start reading again; the morning paper, books, Huffingtonpost.com.

And I can actually invite people home, sans wondering where they are going to park. One fine morning my neighbour dropped in with her two month-old son in her arms. He was being difficult and refusing to sleep. As I held him cautiously in my arms to give the tired-looking mommy some succour, a gentle sleep-inducing breeze crept in from the balcony. A few seconds later, the little cherub was asleep.

The mom looked half-relieved, half-shocked at this minor feat and wouldn’t allow me to speak, lest he should wake up any minute. “You may have an alternative career; start a creche in the building,” she suggested.

I observed later that the windows and balcony doors in her home are perennially shut and the air is static; even a mere cherub can sense this constriction of energy.

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