September 26, 2007

Metro Madness

Much has been written, discussed, debated, praised and shredded about India. Indian nationals, who have been ‘patriotic’ to their “motherland”, have expressed their views more frequently than the appearance of a turban in Jaisalmer. Be it about how rich the nation is with its cultural heritage, religious diversities and patriots; or the rising behemoth of an economy, intellectual capital and the innumerable hands that build IT parks all over the metros. One metro that gets inevitably featured in such contexts is Bombay… sorry, Mumbai… let’s call it Bombay… no, it is now Mumbai… whatever!

The map of Mumbai looks like a fossilized snake from the Mesozoic Age. Despite various demerits, the city attracts people in drones in the same way it multiplies the number of slum dwellers, diseases and street side hawkers.

The past few days for a Mumbai dweller have been action-packed. Even plump housewives and their pot bellied husbands have been literally half mooned by an invisible force of the city to get their lazy bones, on the verge of osteoporosis, out of their warm couches. The city has been swept away in a deluge of celebrations. Fortunately, this time around rain has no part in it!

Ganesh Utsav heralds and celebrates the benevolence and grandeur of the elephant headed God. In Mumbai, the festivities celebrated for over 2 weeks resemble a fĂȘte with a string of drums played to successfully damage ear drums of human beings up to 10 miles. Those who play them, of course, do not fall under this category.


What would a procession be without explosive lighting equipment? My answer- a normal one. But the city apparently differs with me as I happened to encounter an idol illuminated by 10 suns. Or so it seemed for a small crowd that had temporarily spared themselves the gift of blindness by shutting their eyes as tight as Catwoman’s leather outfit. Participants, organizers and the crowd gathered have this compulsive need to prove that culture is not being eroded in the midst of all this hoopla. The best way to demonstrate it to all the TV cameras trained on them – spray colors of red, pink and orange in the air, on faces and sometimes on an odd clueless tourist with a digital camera. That the tourist will have to buy a new camera is totally irrelevant, though. Crackers, group of people dancing in trance or under influence, form yet another aspect of this spectacle.

A 15 day religious carnival of sorts comes to an end with the idol immersion in the sea, rivulet or even a large rain-water collected pond- depending on the size of the idol. Nobody really bothers about the day after. The municipal corporation which is mostly visible on such days turns up in huge vans to clear roads, alleys and beaches. As for the political sponsors, who have a field day at garnering awe and exposure find it most convenient to leave it to the cleaners or just harsh weather to clear their banners that hang from post to post. They seem to strictly believe in division of labor and specialization!

All the above would have been just fine had it been yet another uneventful year. But India also spins into frenzy whenever there is talk of a game adopted from the colonial times – Cricket. Such excitement is, therefore, completely unexpected when the team, which has been out of form since a very long time, loses and returns home. Effigies are burnt, roads are blocked for a day, and some underperformers’ houses are either pelted or blackened to mourn the loss without much pomp.

Now what happens when such a team goes to a new format World Cup and wins the Championship Trophy during the very same week as the Ganesh Utsav? For starters, offices close early, people find time from religion, stock market and household banter and honor sports channels giving high TRPs for re-runs of the same match. Channels start recruiting more people to cover both events and the Programming Executive spends sleepless nights on prioritizing the two events! Crackers bought for the festival are burst to serve dual purpose and processions to celebrate both the events get inflated by the participants’ heads. The stock market soars to all time highs while speculators keep figuring what next.

For the otherwise crowded streets of this metro, double barreled events bring with them more substance, content, coverage, noise and many more traffic jams. People swing from street to street hoping for more reasons to rationalize the purpose and find company for such insanity. I call it the Mumbai metro madness.

(September 26, 2007)




Speakers Unplugged!

Human beings are the most amazing creation. Homo Sapiens have been endowed with a beautiful anatomy, gorgeous eyes, values of being honest, loyal, sincere, and truthful; and a mind, which helps them believe so. Most of all, I believe it’s the power of speech, that separates us from the others. We have the power to speak with intonations and languages that even domestic cockroaches have mastered (on second thoughts, are there any wild ones left?).

The human talk, for better or worse, has now got a wider reach. With dozens of University backed Professors, Techies and Management teachers; the astrology quacks of India are planning to go on an indefinite strike against such monopoly. It is rumored that Bill Gates is being roped in as a consultant for Disaster Management.

But there is no need for these astro-men to panic. The fact is that these ‘Speech Gurus’ have some unique techniques while speaking that the ever sealed-to-ground sadhus can never master.

Many speakers for some reason try to get personal through their talk. They make it a point to get a reassurance from the audience by saying, “You know…” No, I don’t! On one occasion, the speaker went on to explain concepts of e-governance, which at that point was a rather new topic for the young audience. Every now and then, in the middle of the sentence, he let the talk hang loose by saying, “E-governance is very important for any company to adopt, you know…” Well yes, the turkey on your head flew over and told me so. Mercy! Some speakers don’t let go of this indispensable phrase even during Q&A session. A person from the audience asks you for clarifications and the last thing he expects is to be told, “O yes, you know …” God save!

Another habit that puts the audience in discomfort, is the unnecessary use of conjunctions. The ‘And’ factor. Brevity is the soul of humor and good talk. But some people just don’t get it. When a person starts speaking with all might on the subject and explains the concepts as nobody does and is frequently hit by “You know…” obsession and further has no consideration for the audience who by now are sick and tired of listening and desperately want a break that may save their life from the clutches of unending conjunctions, you may be left with just two options – kill the speaker (mostly visualized in your mind) or sue him for the trauma caused by a sentence! Phew!

Many speeches are cases of classic bloopers. Either the speaker forgets where he/ she started or the paper from which it was read out flies away by a gust of unwanted breeze. Those who are inadept in covering up the slip, resort to the forefathers’ language of monosyllables. The ‘Ah-s’ and ‘Uhm-s’ come in handy and sometimes are stretched far beyond the threshold of endurance. The cleverer lot understand the side effects of such sounds and use convenient words like “to explain briefly” and “without getting deep” more often than the coups in Africa. If the blooper happens during a group discussion, there’s no stopping the speaker who goes on and on saying “as my friend said”. Recently in a webinar that I attended, this fixation proved to be a savior to the COO of a large BPO company. The ‘friend’ in question was a PR consultant who spoke flawlessly. Is this what it means when they say, “What are friends for!”

Speakers who extensively use colorful presentations sure attract many people as audience. But many suffer from what I call the “Presenter-Presentation Mismatch”. The audience waits for the speaker to explain the slide but either he hates the slide or is under the trance of a blooper and is trying hard to cover it up. If it is neither, then it’s just that, a mismatch.

There are some others who are masters, at feigning. In a surge to create an indelible impression, they speak in some bizarre accent. Either it is foreign education gone bad or excessive influence of sitcom stars that make the speech sound like a hotchpotch spout! Others, who for some reasons cannot put on an accent (thank god for that!), try using statistics and jargons or spew vocabulary. This is either to intimidate the audience to the degree that they don’t ask any questions or to divert their minds from the actual subject. Malcolm Forbes had once said – “It’s more fun to arrive at a conclusion than to justify it”. These presenters seem to have taken the quote a bit too seriously! So, if someone is speaking about the epistemology related to the GDT techniques, which have been expediently implemented to gain the HHI advantage in a foreign market, don’t panic if you are lost. The speaker is verbally challenged to speak about the nature of a manufacturing communications technique, which can be used to gain a better market concentration, in simple terms. And in most cases, the speaker is also as lost as his audience!

To conclude briefly, it is said that 90% of the statistics are made-up on the spot. So if you have found my critique rather humdrum, you may keep your ferocity to self and post approbation about the erudition soon. (Send me your bouquets and spare yourself the thought of brickbats!)
(June 15, 2005)



September 25, 2007

Stereotypically Yours!

The other day I heard my mother complain about how she had not yet received some of the snail mails that were supposed to have been sent by “Speed Post”! She went on to launch a tirade against the Postal Department. Now how often have I heard it? Many times and it isn’t just my mother who gets into this offensive mood. In fact, come to think of it, we have umpteen things that are oft repeated and sometimes pigeonholed, without leaving any scope for change. Be it social or political, related and unrelated, we seem to take potshots at people and phenomena, bringing me to jabber about a sociological concept – Stereotypes.

Politics does not seem to be anybody’s cup of tea, coffee or anything potable. Still, at least once a day, I hear people declare the representatives of state they elected corrupt. It is virtually like a synonym or a tag that comes with a package. Politician A is corrupt. If B is a politician he is corrupt. If he is corrupt, he must surely have some links with politics or politicians. No, I am not having a revisit from my school days on logical deductions but that’s the way people seem to be talking in real life. But not once have we heard any straitlaced chap stand up and say, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I proclaim myself corrupt”. Despite all attempts a politician makes to portray himself and his party as the cleanest and corruption disinfected, nobody seems to be listening. If anything, the one-liners of the Jay Lenos and the John Stewarts get more fodder and sound more comical to the audience, which is ever ready to lap up more on the matter.

But let’s not get politician bashing. There are other things to clobber. Traditionally, one tends to maintain a not-so-friendly relationship with his/ her boss. The reasons are as vague as the typecast affair itself. Almost everyday, I receive at least one email forwarded by a distraught junior who seemingly is bloodthirsty and would do anything to defame his boss, mostly a Project Manager. Even in daily life, there are innumerable times you come across a person who feels he can do a better job than his boss and should probably be getting the latter’s salary too! Also, the BOSS is seen as a villain who derives sadistic pleasure from dumping more work to his junior.

Celebrities are also popular picks among people who love to stereotype them. Whenever a celebrity falls sick or meets with an accident (though it might be a raging bull which wanted to humor itself for a while) and is caught on camera, how often have you said or heard people say, “Yeah, right! All for publicity”. No matter how convincingly a popular party animal says “No comments” on anything that is alleged, in the public eye, he/ she already starts looking like there is a striking resemblance with a stowaway on “COPS”.

Forget about the high-fliers and seniors. Even the people we deal with in our day-to-day lives are also either of this category or that segment! Relatives are just one jealous lot and doctors and lawyers were created as the human form of leeches! Husbands / wives / long-time partners are boring or have changed over time to droning creatures. Come to think of it, I could pen a poem out of the entire situation.

Daily I come across at least one kind of stereotype,
What can I say, some are wrong, some right

My kids are the most beautiful and intelligent of the lot,
Don’t the other kids look like a bunch of ocelots!

At my office, I work the hardest- I'm the best
While my carpool partner scalps the cream though he rests

Whoever made women at work so gentle?
All they best do is freak out and get emotional!

Whoever made guys so thick-skinned?
Make them a shrink and you’ll have a psycho successfully killed!

Africa and Asia are full of naked, poor, hungry kids
Refer NatGeo and Discovery acts

I could keep singing such limericks for hours
But for now, I sign off – Stereotypically yours!

(November 8, 2005)


September 09, 2007

Ithaca Stolen


This is one of my latest poems. I have been deeply pained by many events that are happening around me... Morning newspapers have news filled with negativity. I usually search hard to find the brighter side, but usually end up feeling frustrated. Television soaps have long episodes filled with grim situations. It's almost like happiness has been stolen from life, sapped out from the system. Here's my take on it.

Ithaca Stolen

An insolent mind finds surprises,
In occasional smiles, pleasant faces.
Pierces the heart, chortles of lads.
Guffaws at wretched tales.

Innocence colored, where ignorance once reigned.
Dimensions blurred injuries inflicted.
Meandering is the dark rebirth inside,
Eyes look away from the sunny side.

In, a dim flame flickers.
Eyebrows crease, pupil narrows
A harrowed life forgets fragments
Of my glorious Ithaca stolen.

An Eden of joy, of a life fruitful
Now an abyss of hazy routine, so futile.
Rising from a crestfallen psyché, eyelids strain
Wonder if the foolish reprisal had any gain?

Disowning present state, haggling with a truant mind,
To victory that never was, Ithaca- will I ever find?

________________________________________

I truly hope the situation improves for the world over. I hope everybody finds their stolen Ithaca.




September 05, 2007

What happened to Teacher's Day?


Today is 5th September. So, it is yet another day on the calendar. I am quite definite many think so, or at least have begun thinking in this way. September 5 is celebrated in India as 'Teacher's Day'. Observed after the birthday of India's second President - Dr. S. Radhakrishnan, it used to be the day when schools celebrated this amazing individual called 'Teacher'.

Students on their part put up shows to entertain those whom they held in high esteem and even aped them sometimes, for they believed that someday they would turn out to be half as good as them. We wrote songs, sang them out aloud, danced and entertained and made sure that the day was a memorable one for our teachers.

The teachers on their part were equally participative. I remember my convent school in Belgaum where all teachers had turned up as students and put up a fantastic show. How could it not be funny when the Head Sister, who was the principal of the school, turned out in pinafore with plaits! We students had only seen her grumpy face and hid every time somebody whispered "Hide! Sister Rose is here!"

Times changed and schools soon became colleges. Teachers became "way too complicated" or "extremely strict" or just "boring". I am not trying to act saintly here. I have been part of the junta which said all these and more! Those few who felt that 'a' particular teacher was good was promptly termed 'nerd' or 'dork' or just too uncool to hang out with! Means for entertainment turned to freak outs, parties, rock concerts. Time flew past soon and in the exodus September 5 was forgotten too soon.

Employment, family and deadlines hardly allow time for oneself, let alone someone out of the close circuit. And today, when all of a sudden some unknown number flashed on my cell phone, it did not take a minute for me to cut the call. The reason was not a meeting but just the wish of not adding more fuel to an already high tension day of work. On an instinct, I called the number to find that it was a dear teacher, whose number I had lost somewhere in the passage of time. The lady was gracious enough to let my blunder go unnoticed. But it did stir my inner soul to take stock of things that were left behind somewhere in the many milestones of life.

Here's to all the teachers!