Ravaging continues...

Context: I come home to JG drinking red wine.
Me: I see you have upgraded. Red wine is good for heart.
JG: I am having some heartburns, man. That is why I having red wine.
It was too premature or too late, for his level and brand of English, to introduce him to the term ‘gastroesophageal reflux’. So, I took the best way out.
Me: You taken a good decision, man. You smart.

Context: I hear some metallic noise from JG’s room. I come to see him wresting with the wall-mounted heater.
Me: What are you doing?
JG: Handle not working, man.
Me: You have a handle on your heater?
JG: (Pointing to the knob) This.
Me: What is the problem?
JG: I twist and twist but heater no onning.
Me: Heater no what??
JG: No onning, man, not becoming hot.
Me: Ohh…you should talk to the management rather than trying out tricks.
I can picture JG talking to his love interest, "Baby, you have me onning!"

Context: I rant about how my AD account was locked since I entered the password wrong thrice.
JG: You have trouble loginning?
Me: Once in a while I forget my passowrd, but not in the long innings.
JG: Me not telling for cricket, me telling about AD. You have trouble loginning.
Me: No, only language trouble, no for loginning.
JG: You change language to English from Danish. I have no trouble with English.
Me: That is pretty evident, JG.

Context: JG is drunk, I have no idea whether it is beer or red wine. He calls me and shows me some pictures from his college days. I notice one guy standing next to him in almost all pictures and I ask about him.
JG: He was my best friend until we had a lot of drinks and I slept with him.
Me: You slept with him?
JG: Yes, he my room mate, man. I sleep with him everyday. Then we fight one day, big fight.
Me (instinctively moving out of his arm's reach): You fought about what?
JG (nostalgically): Who better performing.
Me (unable to conceal my surprise): What!?
JG: Better performing in studies, man. Why you shouting?
Just to be on the safer side, before sleeping, I block the door of my room with a chair.

Context: I got a pack of 30 eggs and was trying to open it.
JG: Is it hardly packed?
Me: Au contraire, it is tightly packed.
JG: Aur kaun bolega…I say first time only it is packed hardly.
I think he meant ‘hard to open’.

Context: I open our room door and immediately recognize the eucalyptus smell. I ask JG if he is okay.
JG: I sleep late.
Me: True
JG: Yesterday night, I sleep late.
Me: I see.
JG: You see me before day night also when I sleep late?
Me: Huh…you lost me there. I see what when day night?
JG: Today Monday, yesterday Sunday. Saturday night you see me sleep late?
Me: No, you fool, I sleep earlier than you. How I see?
JG: Then why you say you see me sleep late that day night, man?
Me: I am trying very hard not to wring your neck. Don’t tempt me further.
JG: You say you see me sleep late that day night but you don’t really see. You want to break my neck. You know what you talking?
Me: No. Can I have some pain balm?

And his life still goes on, till I really give in to the temptation.

Ravaging English...slowly but surely

Indians may have made others feel laggards at programming languages but, when it comes to spoken ones, we are definitely not on the top.

I am at Denmark now sharing a hotel room with a compatriot. He comes from another state, I wont name it for obvious reasons but they have been trying very hard to split themselves. My room partner, lets call him ‘JG’, thinks in his mother tongue and translates that into English. He asks a lot of questions, questions my questions and questions my answers. It could be the unique grammar of his mother tongue or the grammatical deficiency on his part but it has resulted to many funny conversations between us.

Here are some samples:

Context: JG has had two beers and alcohol frees the tongue, as we all know. He is talking continuously and very fast – another characteristic of an Indian English speaker. I don’t drink and I like to sharpen my listening skills anytime.
JG: I have complex problems
Me (playing the philosopher): If problems were not complex, we would not be calling them problems.
JG: No man, I have real complex problems.
Me (still playing the philosopher): Show me one person who calls his problems ‘simple’ and ‘fake’.
JG: No man, I feel little when others come.
Me: You feel little when others come?
JG: I feel low.
Me (realization hits me - RHM): You mean you have inferiority complex?
JG: Yes, I feel little and low. I tell you I have complex problems. But I good man.
Me (giving some sort of a verbal hug): I understand, man. I understand what you are saying.

Context: JG has been sleeping throughout the day. I - not really concerned, just curious – ask him if he is okay.
JG: I have lot of headaches, man.
Me: Work bothering you, JG?
JG: Work no, man, just a lot of headaches?
Me (RHM) : Did you get some medicine from India for headaches?

I think he meant ‘severe headache’.

Context: I am frustrated of due to the high prices in Denmark.
Me: I am thinking I should just live it up.
JG: We are at third floor already, man. How more up you want to go?
Me: I mean everything is so damn costly here.
JG: I know fourth floor room has the same price. If you want to live up, we should tell the hotel people.
Me: I am going to cry myself to sleep, JG. Don’t wake me up.
JG: Why you cry if you shift to fourth floor?

Now, I just want to live it dumb.

Context: JG and I go to a shop to buy onions. They are 2 DKK costlier as compared to another shop about a kilometer away. JG says we should go there. I, extreme stupidity on my part, tell him to stop scrimping and look at convenience, once in a while.
JG: You tell I greedy?
Me: When did I say that?
JG: You just tell me stop saving.
Me: I am having a lot of headaches, I no remember I tell that. Me speaka da Chinee.
JG: I am not buying sugar.
I suddenly find something interesting in the deli section – which is at the other end of the store - and run away.

Context: our room has just one bathroom. Its weekend and I am thinking of standing of taking a leisurely shower. I didn’t want that to inconvenience JG since it was rather early in the morning.
Me: Are you done with the bathroom?
JG: Why? Don’t I look like I take bath?
Me: There is a lot more you can do in the bathroom. Its early morning, that’s why I asked you.
JG: You do something else too?
Me: I repair trucks, ride a cycle and pave roads when I am there. If I am feeling up to it, I fly Navy jets.
JG: Something wrong, man. You look me when I have good bath? Why you tell me that question?
Me: I am sure I don’t want to look at you when you take a bath…err..shower. Ha ha.
JG: Why?
In response, I just go to the bathroom, lock the door and start the shower. I wanted to wash all that English off me as soon as possible.

Context: I am just back from an hour of swimming. JG asks me where I was and I tell him I had gone swimming.
JG: Suggest some exercise, man. My skin is soft.
Me: There is hardly any exercise I know which makes skin hard.
JG: No, you not know me. Touch me here. (he points to his paunch)
Me: I am not touching you, whatever happens.
JG: Then how you know my skin is soft?
Me: Why would I want to know?
JG: Too much fat under my skin, man. My skin is loose.
Me: I suggest you wind yourself tightly in a nylon comforter. Then you pour petrol and, at your signal, I burn it. Your skin will be tight and you burn the fat too.
JG: How my skin tight if comforter burn?
Me: I have complex problems after swimming and also lot of headaches.
JG: You need some medicine?

One of these days, I might murder him in sleep. I know it is ‘not cricket’ but I love grammar more than this particular fellow countryman.

That beast and man were brother

A poem (about a man hiding in a cave on a rainy night and a wolf joining him) was a part of my elder siblings' curriculum which was, unfortunately, dropped when it came new one under which I was taught. Almost twenty years have passed, but a line from the poem and the image with it (drawn by an artist I no longer remember) persists in my memory even today. The image showed a crouching man and a wolf next to him, in darkness, under a tree.

And the line was 'the beast and man were brother'.

It was carved on my young brain then and now, whenever I see or hear about animals bonding with people, I remember this line. A bit of search on the Net helped me to pinpoint the poem. The title is 'A night with a wolf' written by Bayard Taylor.

Here is the full poem:

----
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.

The rain and the night together
Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.

I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded;
Crept to a fir with thick set boughs
And a sheltering rock behind it.

There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me.
Something rustled; two green eyes shone;
And a wolf lay down beside me!

His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man were brother.

And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.
-------

Little did Mr. Taylor (1825-1878) know that one line of his poem would haunt a kid for twenty years till he finally finds it over the big Net.

That, gentle ladies and men, is the beauty of words.

Faiyaz

The name 'Faiyaz ' means ‘aesthetic’ or ‘artistic’. There have been quite a few who did justice to the meaning,

Ustad Faiyaz Khan, still remembered as the ‘Mehfil ka Badshah’ by those who have been fortunate enough to hear him, is the first to be recalled. Among the many titles and awards he received, just the Aftab-e-Mausiqi (The Sun of Music) alone testifies to the musical phenomenon that he was. (with thanks from http://www.itcsra.org/tribute.asp?id=2)

But the Faiyaz I want to talk about is a little known Marathi singer (http://www.aathavanitli-gani.com/Lists/Singer%20Details/Faiyyaj.asp). So unknown is she that even Google comes up with nothing on her.

Sample a song sung by Faiyaz at: http://www.aathavanitli-gani.com/GenPages/Song.asp?Id=90071916790.

It is about a dancing girl who wrongly presumes the intentions of a young man who confesses his love for her. Instead, she makes fun of his naiveté and honesty and points out its mismatch with the place; a place where conscience and intimacy is sold freely. She even banters him to return when he can afford her and offers him paan. The young man, stung, leaves in the darkness of the night never to return. On the same day, every year, she abstains from her trade and, with a paan ready, waits fruitlessly for her lover to return. Her repentance about the missed chance is embodied in the song.

The on screen darkness, the flowing tears, the empty expression on the actress’s face does add to the whole effect; but what makes this song truly sound regretful is the haunting voice of Faiyaz.

Of course, credit goes to the dark lyrics too; but without the injected emotions, lyrics are but poems.

I know this is a classic case of ‘too little, too late’ but Faiyaz, wherever you are, I bow to you respectfully.

For me, you have imparted more meaning to your already beautiful name.

The cherry trees will blossom again

Land of the Rising Sun.

Land of the Kabuki.

Land of the Samurai.

Land of kimonos and obis.

Land that survived Little Boy and Fat Man.

And rose to become one of the most industrialized, industrious and prosperous nations of the world.

Rise again you will, Japan.


The cherry trees will blossom again.

Smile please

I have started a new social experiment.

I smile.

At all people, ranging from highly familiar ones to total strangers. Of all ages.

I just give a friendly smile; though it might look like a snarl if you have my kind of canines.

I smile at home, at the gym, at the bus stop, in the bus, while alighting from the bus, on the way to railway station, at the station, in the train, while walking to office, at the office. On the way back, I do the same.

Sometimes, I smile all by myself.

Have I finally gone bonkers?

Quite the contrary.

I am studying people’s reactions and, so far, the results have been highly enlightening.

And entertaining.

I have the following observations:
1. Males almost never return a smile; unless they are in service industry like malls, cinema halls etc where they are trained to twist their mouths into a curve
2. Females almost never return a smile; even if they are a part of the service industry. Even if you feign interest in the highly unnecessary fashionably expensive anti-aging serum which would help her surpass her monthly sales quota. Or it might have something to do about my part-chain snatcher, part-werewolf looks.
3. Kids always smile back, if you are smiling genuinely. I guess an infant’s non-conceited brain can detect a fake one.
4. Old people do smile back and they might even strike a conversation.
5. Illiterate/semi-literate laborers and blue collared people are more likely to return a smile than white-collared workers
6. People whom you see pretty frequently (like at the gym, in the same train; at work place) will wait for you to smile, even if you had smiled at them before
7. More expensive the clothes, lesser are your chances of getting a smile
8. Foreigners are more likely to smile back; especially the Caucasians

I sincerely suggest you try this:
1. When you see a couple, smile at the person having the same gender as yours
2. Smile and frown at the same people, but on alternate days
3. Smile at people only once a day; keep changing the time
4. When someone returns a smile; stare as if you are looking through them. Or turn 180 degrees around; pretending to find out the person at whom the smiler smiled. Then turn around; if s/he is still smiling, flash your most tacky one.
5. In a crowded place, close your eyes and smile by yourself
6. Slight variation of (5): Look at someone, close your eyes and smile. Repeat
7. Do not smile at people with whom you regularly shared a smile
8. Smile more at people whom you regularly interact with but rarely care; bus conductors, auto drivers, watchmen, receptionists, waiters and the like.

You will be surprised at the reactions.

Ars gratia artis

What is art?

According to Wikipedia: Art is the product or process of deliberately arranging items (often with symbolic significance) in a way that influences and affects one or more of the senses, emotions, and intellect. It encompasses a diverse range of human activities, creations, and modes of expression, including music, literature, film, photography, sculpture, and paintings. The meaning of art is explored in a branch of philosophy known as aesthetics, and even disciplines such as history and psychology analyze its relationship with humans and generations.

For me, it has an even simpler definition: Art is what gives you satisfaction.

By satisfaction, I don’t mean the feeling we get when someone lands rather uneasily on their base when you pull the chair away.

I mean the satisfaction of a job well done.

Even when no one’s watching.

The satisfaction of a painting well painted, of a raga well sung, of a taal well played, of a particular sur well articulated. Don’t we see a singer smiling at herself at a particular note? Don’t we find an instrumentalist stealing a smile when he plays a piece rather well?

But, why limit ‘art’ only to creative fields?

Painting a wall or plumbing or fitting shelves can also be art. So can be washing, ironing, polishing shoes or cutting vegetables. The thousand mundane things we do around the house can also transcend their monotonousness to be ‘art’, only if we continuously try to improve ourselves at it.

It might even mean making a rounder wheel.

But for anything to be ‘art’, first you need deep knowledge of the task you perform. By experimenting with this knowledge you have acquired from outside, can satisfaction be achieved. Find out for yourself, with the help of your direct experience. Finally, you will come to a conclusive and fruitful stage of knowledge. All knowing is in vain if it is not direct. Indirect knowledge is, of course, informative but never fulfilling. All artists throughout history have gone through great pains in order to know their craft more intimately. They were not satisfied with the experience of others. They were not frightened off from this quest by the defenders of orthodoxy and dogma, who persecuted and sometimes even executed them because their conclusions were different

One of my very good friends derives great satisfaction from improving processes and creating better supply chains. So do I, as a Consultant, from making my employer’s clients aware of their technical needs (or ‘requirements’ as we like to call it) rather than just catering to their wants.

Of the hundreds of hours I have spent observing people, I have discovered quite a few artists.

How many times do we appreciate the neat stacks of apparel when we carelessly pull the fifth one from bottom and let the others fall in a heap and never replace them as before?

There is this assistant at a mall I had seen folding T-shirts and putting them back to the rack. It is a simple task and, definitely, a thankless one. His deftness and speed was amazing; I hadn’t seen this happening at any of the 15-20 odd malls I visited so far. And after every shirt was folded, he patted it affectionately, as a mother would pat her baby and place it gently over a pile which was rising in perfect formation like a multi-storey building. When I complimented him, he smiled sheepishly and said he had no idea he was being watched. On further prodding, he quite modestly confessed that he had, indeed, invented the technique and was the result of about twelve months of trial-and-error. One earlier technique was faster at folding but it required him to place the shirt of a flat surface (which wasn’t always readily available in the dynamic environment of the mall) and was discarded. So was another one which was good at making a pile of folded ones but the formation was not quite as he would like it. So was one more which was fast at both but required him to bend twice in the small inter-rack space (which he could not during crowded hours). This was definitely a process improvement, did he not bring this to the notice of his superiors? He said he had tried but they did not care much about it. Also, his colleagues thought he was being flashy just to get noticed. I asked did that deter him from improving his technique. He replied they (his colleagues) can keep their opinion while he continues at it. He even showed me a fold-and-throw method by which T-shirts fell in a perfect spiral in a very short time; he had developed this specially for ‘islands’, a non-rack arrangement where clothes (generally discounted ones) are arranged in an open space on a (generally round) platform for better access to from all sides.

Here is a semi-literate average guy who is an 'artist' in my eyes.

Man - The Explorer

Captain Scott - Antarctic explorer
In 1901-04 Captain Robert Falcon Scott (1868-1912) was the first person to explore Antarctica extensively by land. His last mission to the South Pole ended in tragedy and only missed being the first to this famous landmark (compass bearing) by days.

Sir Ernest Shackleton - Antarctic explorer
After Captain Scott died during an attempt to reach the South Pole in 1912, Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922) chose to tackle the challenge of Antarctica in a different way. He decided he would attempt to journey across the icy continent from one side to the other via the South Pole.

Captain James Cook
Captain James Cook's achievements in mapping the Pacific, New Zealand and Australia radically changed our understanding of world geography.

Christopher Columbus
What did Columbus want to do? Why did he want to sail west? And what exactly did he find? This dude needs no introduction

Ferdinand Magellan
The first explorer to sail around the world.

Peter the Great, reigned 1682-1725
Tsar Peter I of Russia is more usually described as 'Peter the Great'. As a young man, he travelled to Europe in 1697-8 to study new developments in technology, especially shipbuilding

Sir Francis Drake, 1542-1596
Francis Drake was an experienced and daring seafarer. Among many adventures, the 'famous voyage', his successful circumnavigation of the world between 1577 and 1580 ensured that he would be one of the best remembered figures of Tudor England

Sir John Franklin 1786-1847
Sir JohnFranklin was an officer in the Royal Navy and an Arctic explorer.Although he took part in the great sea battle of Trafalgar, he is best remembered for his surveys of the Arctic.

----------------------------------------------

Why do I invoke all these very glorious and very dead gentlemen right at the beginning? Because, even though most of the earth has been mapped and charted, we are still living in largely untested terra firma.

Last Sunday, I did not have much to do (extremely rare, since my weekends are busier than my weekdays). So, to kill time, I visited one of the malls at Vashi.

I could see that India has suddenly woken up from decades of fantastic frugality and pitiless penny pinching. Shopping is the new Great Indian sport, cricket can eat dirt; many practice the former, the latter has mostly armchair followers who spew statistics to make uninteresting conversations narcissistically boring.

Yeah, I have refrained from commenting on the state of Indian hockey.

I have been to that mall quite a few times, but this time, I wanted to buy nothing. So, I resorted to observing people, psychology being my pet subject.

I noticed a couple went past me twice within a span of five minutes. They looked involved with something, so I ruled the possibility of either/both of them checking me out. The guy looked purposeful while the girl had an earnest look etched on her face. Third time, when they passed me, I heard the girl say something and the guy snarl at her.

It was getting heated and piqued my curiosity sufficiently to make me follow them, of course, discreetly.

Only then I came to know the fact.

The guy was searching for formal shirts, dragging the girl along with. The girl was beseeching him to ask some attendant where they (the shirts) were kept. The guy, probably guided by the spirits of the very glorious and very dead gentlemen mentioned at the beginning, was determined to chart a new route from the entrance to the shirt rack, unassisted by any attendant.

Eventually he found it. Any animal with a pair of eyes could have noticed the striking similarity in the sense of pride on our guy's face and Magellan's, had the latter survived the circumnavigation and had someone around him clicked his photograph.

The girl, obviously not sharing the same sense of achievement, just rolled her eyes heavenwards.

So, here it is.

Undaunted by the lack of female adulation, scarcity of uncharted Earth and unguided by mall attendants, one genus still thrives.

Homo Exploratorus – Man The Explorer