My nephew was asking me about life in America. He, a teenager, like most people his age, thinks that he is all grown up and wants to do all grown up things - roaming around with friends, thinking its cool to not study... But this blog isnt about him, he beyond doubt is one of my favorites (and I seriously and honestly believe its mutual). Like most other people here, he too is curious about the revered America; he too wants to visit there, if not live there. All his questions reminded me of this unfinished blog, a blog that I had started writing half-way through December, a blog quite forgotten in my comfort zone in the US and all the traveling that I had been "busy" with. But what really motivated me to finish this is the very same lack of a reason to NOT write it, the lack of traveling to be busy with... Same story, as that of my previous blog.
A quick snapshot of the American Economy - For a 100 bucks, in the US of A -
- A Cab ride to the Airport
- A Flight to Chicago
- A Nice, Very Nice Dinner for 2
- A Nice, but Not-Very-Nice Dinner for 5
- A Cleaner (most probably Mexican) - Vacuum the House once. approx 3-4 hours
- A Cleaner - To clean the fallen fall leaves once (oh the American Fall - yet another unfinished blog in my folder, but this one due to lack of content)
An economy quite different to ours. If you convert everything to Indian currency and compare (something which you should never do, but even IF), you will notice that the cheaper things are generally more expensive and the expensive things are generally cheaper. What we consider luxuries in India - Centrally air-conditioned/heated houses, nice cars (Honda Civic/Accord, Toyota Corola/Camry, though its more like any car for the "aam aadmi") - are everywhere, something every American is oblivious to. Every Indian wants to buy a Honda Civic here, but there Civic is one of the cheaper cars, and Honda has a premier brand, Acura, which makes the "luxury" cars. While the basic luxuries that one can easily afford in India, without even thinking of them as luxuries - the ubiqutous maid, a cook, the dhobi, the jamaadaar (who I have now come to worship) - are very very expensive there. In India, we live as "rajas"; there the same we become "praja". So much so for the BIG AMERICAN DREAM!!
Friday, 7 March 2008
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
The Kite Runner - a fantabulous read
Been “Missing” from the BlogWorld a long time. A memory. A prediction: I would stop blogging after my GMAT was done. Well, I stopped much before that! And this is NOT to prove that wrong. It’s a funny thing, joblessness; it makes you do a lot of things.
I recently read “The Kite Runner.” It’s an interesting read; it makes you think. At least it made me think, made me retrospect. One can relate to it in so many different ways - a character, a relationship - the strained father-son relationship, the smitten-by-her-beauty love, or the life-with-a-guilt. The best part about the novel is that the characters are etched nicely and they do not change. The Coward doesn’t become a Knight overnight. The loyal, the submissive, remains so till the end.
Some of the quotes in the book are really good -
“For you, a thousand times over.”
“There is a way to be good again.”
Even though there has been so much talk about Afghanistan in the past few years, it wasn’t until I read this book did I come to know of the history of that country. The cruelty of the Taliban was still better known, lesser known, or rather unknown was the invasion of Russians and unrest for the decade preceding the Talibs. Not that the book broods over it, it presents, in snippets, the life and times of an Afghan, the hardships, the tortures he/she faced. But then one is tempted to think: It is “fiction” after all; as the saying goes, Ignorance is Bliss…
I recently read “The Kite Runner.” It’s an interesting read; it makes you think. At least it made me think, made me retrospect. One can relate to it in so many different ways - a character, a relationship - the strained father-son relationship, the smitten-by-her-beauty love, or the life-with-a-guilt. The best part about the novel is that the characters are etched nicely and they do not change. The Coward doesn’t become a Knight overnight. The loyal, the submissive, remains so till the end.
Some of the quotes in the book are really good -
“For you, a thousand times over.”
“There is a way to be good again.”
Even though there has been so much talk about Afghanistan in the past few years, it wasn’t until I read this book did I come to know of the history of that country. The cruelty of the Taliban was still better known, lesser known, or rather unknown was the invasion of Russians and unrest for the decade preceding the Talibs. Not that the book broods over it, it presents, in snippets, the life and times of an Afghan, the hardships, the tortures he/she faced. But then one is tempted to think: It is “fiction” after all; as the saying goes, Ignorance is Bliss…
Monday, 25 June 2007
Flying High
Recently – most of my blogs start that way, I know, but its usually the recent happenings that make me write – I was in a flight and thanks to the low air fares, everyone can simply fly and it seems everyone was simply flying. As luck would have it, I was surrounded by a large family, with people in the age group 2 to 70, presumably going on a summer vacation. Though it is rather doubtful, but The Family must have checked in after me, else why would their seats be so far apart? After a good 15 mins of convincing and swapping, The Family did manage to get some seats together, but just when they were beginning to settle down they realized that they didn’t have window seats for all. (I wonder why they didn't charter a plane!) Thus began the fights, not only among the children but also among the elders and the kids.
I hadn’t seen a family more unruly; such that the airhostess had to shout at one of the “bhabhis” (I'm assuming) of The Family, saying “please take care of your child, if he falls down, who will be responsible”. This because the child was jumping up and down the aisle when the plane had begun its descent. The crazy doings of The Family, with such primitive, crude conduct would not end. It made me think, that a till a few years ago, flying was only for a selected few, a privilige. But now, Indians have money. And this is the Indian with the money! Finally India seems to have arrived; I do hope the manners will be on the next flight!
I hadn’t seen a family more unruly; such that the airhostess had to shout at one of the “bhabhis” (I'm assuming) of The Family, saying “please take care of your child, if he falls down, who will be responsible”. This because the child was jumping up and down the aisle when the plane had begun its descent. The crazy doings of The Family, with such primitive, crude conduct would not end. It made me think, that a till a few years ago, flying was only for a selected few, a privilige. But now, Indians have money. And this is the Indian with the money! Finally India seems to have arrived; I do hope the manners will be on the next flight!
Thursday, 31 May 2007
Street kids!
On my way to the gym (before you say it, YES I have been going regularly, what my weight is now and what it was when I joined is beyond the point!! :-) ) I stop at this one traffic signal. And like most traffic signals, I usually find it RED. Now this one day, a kid was selling pens there. A Fancy CHINESE Pen with a torch on top. I thought that the kid could use the money, so bought one. Now the very next day, the same RED traffic signal and the same kid : “Bhaiya, pen le lo, bhaiya.” I informed him of my purchase the previous day and told him that I wouldn’t buy one everyday. Once again the very next day, the same RED traffic signal and the same kid: “Bhaiya aapne bola tha roz nahin loge, kal nahn liya, to aaj le lo.” Grinning ear-to-ear, I kept thinking of a smart reply, but eventually gave up, shelled out another 10 bucks and left with another fancy orange-coloured Chinese-made pen. The pens do work, but I am still amazed by the street-smart kid!
If ever I see a kid on the street begging for money, I preferably make him do some work: “Clean my car and you earn yourself 5 bucks.” Even if he makes it dirtier than before, it doesn’t matter. The point is that the kid learnt that money does not come for free; he needs to work for it. The law of OUR country does not permit kids under 18 to work; it’s a crime. I beg to differ! If these kids, most of whom are homeless and don’t have the money to buy, let alone education, even food or clothes, are to be on their own without the basic necessities of life, I would not be surprised to find them in jails, sooner than later. And even if we don’t employ them, who will pay for their food, clothes and of course, their education? The government surely cannot afford it. Is it not better for them to work and earn their own living, rather than turning into criminals or beggars? Is it not better than they learn the value of money the harder way rather than being pampered by somebody who’s basically and actually a nobody?
If ever I see a kid on the street begging for money, I preferably make him do some work: “Clean my car and you earn yourself 5 bucks.” Even if he makes it dirtier than before, it doesn’t matter. The point is that the kid learnt that money does not come for free; he needs to work for it. The law of OUR country does not permit kids under 18 to work; it’s a crime. I beg to differ! If these kids, most of whom are homeless and don’t have the money to buy, let alone education, even food or clothes, are to be on their own without the basic necessities of life, I would not be surprised to find them in jails, sooner than later. And even if we don’t employ them, who will pay for their food, clothes and of course, their education? The government surely cannot afford it. Is it not better for them to work and earn their own living, rather than turning into criminals or beggars? Is it not better than they learn the value of money the harder way rather than being pampered by somebody who’s basically and actually a nobody?
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
Water? Water, everywhere?
The Chronicles of SardarMan -
In the peak of the summer season, it is not uncommon for any part of the country to experience water shortage. Now just the other day, my mom was in the loo, when water got over. Thanks to the miracle-invention of the century, mobile phone, she could get in touch with the watchman to get the motor on. What should have taken less than 10 mins ended up in a full fledged water fight (read war) lasting days!!
Enter Sardarman. A menace. Lives in the building, on the ground floor, has a hobby of watering barren land, any piece of barren land that he can lay his eyes and water hose on. In the parking lot, he has made his office, and in half of the building complex he has made courtyards; courtyards, which can only be called encroachments. So anyway, that fateful day the Sardarman, with the Sardarwoman as his accomplice, washed every part of the courtyard and watered all accessible barren lands. What’s worse, they had blocked the water connection for the rest of the building. And when the watchman requested them to defer their washing plans for an hour, he was greeted with nasty abuses. The menacing duo then, in retaliation, turned all the taps on and left the building. Just to prove their point, whatever that was.
War had thus been declared. The guns and tanks, loaded with all sorts of household crap, were fired. As the policeman much later pointed out to the duo, its nature’s law (also called gravity in scientific jargon) that anything and everything will fall down. The much adorned, endlessly beautified courtyard would need another round of washing. The advent of the policeman did nothing but appease the duo.
Now the climax! A few days later, we were just leaving for the airport, to drop off my sister. And we see HIM, running frantically towards us, hands drawn out in front of him, motioning for us to stop. We glanced at the watch: 4.30 AM. In the middle of the night, he wanted to fight about what had happened the other day. Would not listen to anything we have to say, even the probability of missing the flight didn’t convince him. Only when another call was made to the helping-helpline 100, did he back-off and let us leave. But we couldn’t even relish the cake. No prizes for guessing who we ran into at the gate, awaiting our return!
In the peak of the summer season, it is not uncommon for any part of the country to experience water shortage. Now just the other day, my mom was in the loo, when water got over. Thanks to the miracle-invention of the century, mobile phone, she could get in touch with the watchman to get the motor on. What should have taken less than 10 mins ended up in a full fledged water fight (read war) lasting days!!
Enter Sardarman. A menace. Lives in the building, on the ground floor, has a hobby of watering barren land, any piece of barren land that he can lay his eyes and water hose on. In the parking lot, he has made his office, and in half of the building complex he has made courtyards; courtyards, which can only be called encroachments. So anyway, that fateful day the Sardarman, with the Sardarwoman as his accomplice, washed every part of the courtyard and watered all accessible barren lands. What’s worse, they had blocked the water connection for the rest of the building. And when the watchman requested them to defer their washing plans for an hour, he was greeted with nasty abuses. The menacing duo then, in retaliation, turned all the taps on and left the building. Just to prove their point, whatever that was.
War had thus been declared. The guns and tanks, loaded with all sorts of household crap, were fired. As the policeman much later pointed out to the duo, its nature’s law (also called gravity in scientific jargon) that anything and everything will fall down. The much adorned, endlessly beautified courtyard would need another round of washing. The advent of the policeman did nothing but appease the duo.
Now the climax! A few days later, we were just leaving for the airport, to drop off my sister. And we see HIM, running frantically towards us, hands drawn out in front of him, motioning for us to stop. We glanced at the watch: 4.30 AM. In the middle of the night, he wanted to fight about what had happened the other day. Would not listen to anything we have to say, even the probability of missing the flight didn’t convince him. Only when another call was made to the helping-helpline 100, did he back-off and let us leave. But we couldn’t even relish the cake. No prizes for guessing who we ran into at the gate, awaiting our return!
Friday, 11 May 2007
Tanha...
Unlike my other posts, this one has the lyrics of a song. I don’t think or expect many people to have heard it. It used to come on TV LOONG back, and I somehow, just remembered the song today. Its a beautiful song, slightly dense though. Read on…
dekhiye to lagta hai,
zindagi ki raahon mein,
ek bheed chalti hai.
sochiye to lagta hai,
bheed mein hain sab tanha.
jitne bhi yeh rishte hain,
kaanch ke khilone hain,
pal mein toot sakte hain.
ek pal mein ho jaaye,
koi jaane kab tanha.
dekhiye to lagta hai,
jaise yeh jo duniya hai,
kitni rangeen mehfil hai,
sochiye to lagta hai,
kitna gam hai duniya mein,
kitna zakhmi har dil hai.
woh jo muskuraate the,
jo kisi ko khwaabon mein,
apne pass paate the,
unki neend tooti hai,
aur hain woh ab tanha.
dekhiye toh lagta hai,
zindagi ki raahon mein,
ek bheed chalti hai.
sochiye toh lagta hai,
bheed mein hain sab tanha.
dekhiye to lagta hai,
zindagi ki raahon mein,
ek bheed chalti hai.
sochiye to lagta hai,
bheed mein hain sab tanha.
jitne bhi yeh rishte hain,
kaanch ke khilone hain,
pal mein toot sakte hain.
ek pal mein ho jaaye,
koi jaane kab tanha.
dekhiye to lagta hai,
jaise yeh jo duniya hai,
kitni rangeen mehfil hai,
sochiye to lagta hai,
kitna gam hai duniya mein,
kitna zakhmi har dil hai.
woh jo muskuraate the,
jo kisi ko khwaabon mein,
apne pass paate the,
unki neend tooti hai,
aur hain woh ab tanha.
dekhiye toh lagta hai,
zindagi ki raahon mein,
ek bheed chalti hai.
sochiye toh lagta hai,
bheed mein hain sab tanha.
Monday, 30 April 2007
The Inscrutable Indian
Every Indian likes, I am sure, the "Angry young man" but over the past I have a feeling, that most of them are becoming into one themselves and burning effigies is their forte. Be it of Richard Gere and Shilpa Shetty over an "entertaining" kiss or the noodle-strapped Mandira Bedi over a designer sari.
In today’s age where the world is going forward, the people of India seem to have another direction in their mind. While accepting, rather gladly, appalling kissing scenes in "murder" movies, they react with such vigor to simple pecks. And what is worse that they have the support of the "learned" judiciary. With multiple warrants issued, it is absurdity personified. A sari worn in the spirit of the world cup is interpreted as a defaming act of the tiranga leading to riotous protests and rallies and of course, the burning of effigies. There is so much fervor in the people, but all only for futile causes.
Now I am not asking people to take a back seat, after all it is the generation of "Rang De Basanti" but at least be rational about their acts. Where has the spirit of the Jessica Lal murder case gone?
In today’s age where the world is going forward, the people of India seem to have another direction in their mind. While accepting, rather gladly, appalling kissing scenes in "murder" movies, they react with such vigor to simple pecks. And what is worse that they have the support of the "learned" judiciary. With multiple warrants issued, it is absurdity personified. A sari worn in the spirit of the world cup is interpreted as a defaming act of the tiranga leading to riotous protests and rallies and of course, the burning of effigies. There is so much fervor in the people, but all only for futile causes.
Now I am not asking people to take a back seat, after all it is the generation of "Rang De Basanti" but at least be rational about their acts. Where has the spirit of the Jessica Lal murder case gone?
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