Sunday, August 9, 2015

Raise the standard of giving


Tangy Tuesdays
(This post has been selected by blogadda for its Tangy Tuesday Picks on August 11, 2015)

Read a wonderful quote yesterday, popping up on my Facebook page -
"When God blesses you financially, do not raise your standard of living, raise your standard of giving." - Mark Batterson
Having gone through the first part of the quote just a few days back, I thought some recently acquired cognitive capabilities by Facebook were on display here. Because last few days have seen me switching from thoughts around "the blessing", to "standard of living", to "standard of giving".

After sharing the good news with my wife, one of our first few statements was - "Let's start a new SIP." Bang came the reply - "Yes, let's increase the amount we put in our Gold Fund. After all, the yellow metal is at its lowest in five years now." As soon as the higher figure hit my salary account, the first big debit was towards the first EMI of the new car loan I have taken in anticipation of the "blessing". There are already plans lined up for next few months, all the way till December. Some pending for long time, some just about waiting for the right time, or shall I say, the right trigger. Then the BIG credit card bill as a result of the visit to the BIG SALE. These indeed are obvious next steps coming out of such blessings. After all, why else would you spend 80% of your days away from home? Why else would you agree to revise and send the umpteenth version of that presentation, slogging yourself during the weekend? How else in the world would you justify being a part of the "rat race"? However, such a blessing should have a broader meaning than just acquiring these material possessions, or so I think.

Going back to the first conversation back home, I believe there is much more to it than those cognitive capabilities. I am still perplexed what made me go for a billing amount that was almost equal to, if not more than, my take home salary a few years back. I remember I could just manage a sheepish smile when I saw the bill. No, retail therapy was not working. Deep down, there was something that was pinching me. I can still feel the pain rise up my left hand. Either the impact of the quote, or the actual guilt getting accumulated, has made me ponder, yet again, - "Is their an end to this madness? Aren't there other responsibilities I have? Do my responsibilities end by satisfying the needs, wants and desires of my immediate family? Or shall I be satisfied by taking care of the education of that maid's child back home? More importantly, how did my practice of donating a certain sum to the identified NGO on every birthday and anniversary die a slow death, and got converted into a higher sum going into purchasing that extra ounce of Gold on the same days?"

As a matter of fact, my thoughts are meandering in an altogether different direction. We feel we have fulfilled our duties by ensuring we have provided for certain things to someone close. One day, we are on cloud nine when we "sponsor" someone's yet another luxury sojourn, as a mark of love or respect, or for some other unknown reason. Some other day, we give an expensive gift to someone, may be because we want to be different! Yet another day, we feel elated that we will be able to pass on one of the material possessions to someone else. Floating in this sea of megalomania, we nincompoops forget that by making people feel in ways more than one that we have provided for "the thing", we end up increasing the principal amount of our debt. If we ensure the trigger of one particular action for a particular set of people remains under wraps, shouldn't we be thoughtful about "the provided" folks as well? If we stretch ourselves to prove that the expensive gift was indeed a tribute to a certain relationship, shouldn't there be a similar attempt to understand the reason for "being provided"? If we are today in a position to think freely, live independently, behave as we wish, shouldn't we strive hard to make someone else follow the same path? Do we need to be practical even while giving? Shouldn't emotions be the one overwhelming factor?

Giving need not necessarily be through monetary means. Bringing a smile on an old man's face by "bending back a little bit"; having a conversation with a lady just because she may not have anybody else to talk to; sharing your happy moments with someone because you may be the only reason for someone's happiness (or lack of it, whichever way you look at it); being unquestioningly happy about someone finally trying to enjoy life - can't these be the ways and means to raise the standard of giving? Why do we keep on waiting for a "blessing" to come our way before we decide to emulate the lady next door who finds reasons to be charitable to everyone around? Doesn't the occasionally self-proclaimed, higher level of spiritual consciousness make us follow this path?

Similarly, isn't it far more important for us to target our largesse in a way that it doesn't hurt the self-respect of that person? At the same time, being generous to someone who doesn't require it, or for that matter, being less than generous to someone who requires it, defeats the essence of the deed. Doesn't it make more sense to share your blessings with someone who is not so blessed, vis-à-vis someone who is may be even better off than you when it comes to blessings? Much the same way as the bill amount today is manageable, but was not so inconsequential a few years back, the small amount you end up bargaining for may be a big amount for someone else. Someone rightly pointed out - "If we do not hesitate even once before purchasing that pair of jeans worth Rs. 3,000, why do we bargain for Rs. 30 with the vegetable vendor? If we do not fight for a free pair of socks with the same pair of jeans, why do we force the vegetable vendor to put coriander leaves for free?".

Is it possible to raise your standard of living by raising your standard of giving? And if the "rat race" is the impediment here, why don't we step out of it for a while to make mends?

Friday, April 10, 2015

All it took was one match ...

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles
 FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Be it getting up at 4:00 AM to study for the Class VIII Board Exams in the year 1992, or taking a late night break to freshen up for the more important Class XII Board Exams in the year 1996, sneaking a peak at an over or two of the live cricket match being watched by my Daddy Dear in the next room was always a "thrilling" experience. Of course, this was done while requesting him to reduce the decibel levels on the television, even though he was cursing the Board Exam schedule while keeping the television muted. After all, understanding how South Africa's target got changed from 22 runs from 13 balls to 21 runs from 1 ball in a matter of few rain drops was as important as understanding the impact of acid rain on the soil quality in agriculture-based economies, or for that matter the impact the unfortunate rioting "spectacle" at Eden Gardens had on Indian cricket fan's psyche was as historically important as the impact of the Third Battle of Panipat on the subsequent revival of Maratha domination in North India.

Image courtesy of digitalart
 FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Many of us belong to a generation that grew up believing that there exists only one kind of a ball to play and that it weighs between 5 1/2 and 5 3/4 ounces. It was only later, thanks to Google or Wikipedia, we came to realize that many more people play with balls weighing between 14 to 16 ounces and call the game football, and that a large number of countries play with yellow balls weighing around 2 ounces and call the game lawn tennis. By the time CAT, GMAT, TOEFL started becoming important abbreviations in our lives, the game of cricket also started becoming abbreviated to the currently popular version. However, over the years, for many people of the same generation, interest in the game also started going down, primarily because of "too much" of it. For me, when it came to Junior, it reached an extent where I refused to watch a cricket match with him. I would have purchased all kinds of sports accessories in the last 2-3 years, but I refused to introduce him to this game. Bottom-line, I wanted Junior to realize that there are many more varieties of balls in the world of sport.

And dare I say, I was successful for as many as 5 years. He had started understanding the meanings of diving, penalty kick and perhaps even a red card. He knew Daddy likes Messi, but Ronaldo is better because Mumma likes him. He could tell me the scoreline, and could make out which team is winning the game. I think he also figured out that waka waka was a perfect song to make Daddy dance. One of the proudest moments of Daddy's life was the day when Junior threw a tantrum for that florescent green colored football.

Till the time, Star Sports came up with this gem of a campaign for India's first match of 2015 World Cup. My dearie was hooked. The tension, the energy, the wait, the spirit of nationalism ... basically the impact was sufficient for my efforts of 5 years go down the drain. After all, Junior had always seen Mumma so excited only while watching those big cars on the television. Looking at Mumma, he could sense that this was serious business, much more exciting than the El Clásico. Of course, for him the gentle behavior of the crowd watching Saina overpower her Chinese rivals was "boring" to watch, and Federer vs. Nadal in the whites at Wimbledon was too colorless.

Ultimately, my resistance bore no fruit (I even tried emotional blackmail) and the stone wall crumpled. That day, Junior pulled me to his room, all excited, and showed me a sentence written big and bold on his white board - "I love cricket. I don't love football." I couldn't decipher the meaning of the mischievous smile in his eyes. All it took was one match ...

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Him, her and a surprise

A series of conversations over a period of one week ...

DAY: MINUS 7

Her: You better turn up this weekend. We have made this plan almost 2 months back, and I am in no mood to make any changes, forget about canceling the plan.

Him: Yes, dear! We must make it this time. Been a long time we went on a long vacation. I will do my best to ensure nothing untoward happens this time at the last moment. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Her: Feel free to keep your fingers crossed. And wait to see what I do with mine if you don't turn up.

******************************

DAY: MINUS 6

His friend: So, all set for the vacation?

Him: Yes, super excited.

His friend: Make sure you visit the three places I suggested to you. Without that, your vacation is incomplete. I am sure it will make it memorable.

Him: Yes buddy. The three places are a part of my itinerary.

His friend: I will of course keep on getting the updates on Facebook.

Him: Right! Hope I get a chance to get a sneak peek of the "other" place you suggested. (Wink, wink)

His friend: (Wink, wink) And yes, don't forget my "travel consultancy fee".

Him: Of course. I owe that to you. ☺

His friend: By the way, is the surprise on?

Him: Yes (Wink, wink)


LATER IN THE DAY ...

Her: Are you going to take the usual 8:40 PM flight, that reaches here at an unearthly hour? You can take care of some last minute preparations if you come early.

Him: Honey, that flight is the best option available. All other flights are during day time. I can not leave office before ...

Her: #$^^$#%^& (Disconnects the call)

******************************

DAY: MINUS 5

Him: There has been an issue. A consultant in my team committed a big blunder, and his backup has to travel home because of some medical emergency. All of us are pitching in to finish the deliverable. I am sorry dear, I know we have been waiting eagerly for this vacation. But ...

Her: Whatever! Why didn't you fight with your boss? Why should it be you every time?

Him: Did my best dear. You know how it is.

Her: #$^^$#%^& (Disconnects the call)

******************************

DAY: MINUS 4

Client: You have done a great job in preparing this plan. It will make my life easier when you are away for two weeks.

Him: Thanks! I have also transitioned a few key activities to my second-in-line. I think he will be able to manage those activities perfectly in my absence.

Client: Great! You are all set for your vacation now. ☺

Him: ☺

******************************

DAY: MINUS 3

Him: Not happening dear. I am so sorry. We will have to ...

Her: #$^^$#%^& (Disconnects the call)


LATER IN THE DAY ...

Him: Hello!

Her: (Disconnects the call after a long silence)

******************************

DAY: MINUS 2

His friend: Are you sure you will be able to manage? From my experience, she will somehow make out.

Him: She will not come to know. Don't worry. I have planned it perfectly fine this time. She already hates you the most for your goof up, am sure the client would not like to hear the new superlatives being coined for him, it has been proven beyond doubt that the medical emergency for which our friend is traveling is not an emergency but a common hoax call.

His friend: ☺

Him: ☺



LATER IN THE DAY ...

Him: Hello!

Her: (Disconnects the call after a long silence)

******************************

DAY: MINUS 1

Him: Have you used the new taxi booking app? I downloaded the latest version today morning before booking my airport cab. It has some new features.

His friend: Great! I will download it right away. What time will you be leaving?

Him: 6:15 PM

His friend: I can see the excitement on your face now ☺

******************************

DAY: ZERO

His second-in-line: Have a great vacation buddy! Much needed break. And all the best with your surprise.

Him: I don't want to say so but feel free to drop me a text in case there is anything urgent.

His second-in-line: Hope the need doesn't arise!

******************************

LATER IN THE DAY ...

Her: #$^^$#%^&

Him: (Making the payment to the cabbie) Hello! Dear, can we please talk later? I am on my way to the other office of the client.

Her: Why are you doing this to me? You know I don't like this.

Him: What?

Her: #$^^$#%^&

Him: Listen ...

Her: I will not open the door if you reach today.

Him: Fine, but I am anyways not coming today.

Her: You know I had taken out the extra set of keys from your bag last week you were here.

Him: But ...

Her: (Slightly irritated)  You know very well that I will be fast asleep at your usual time of arrival, because you told me you are not coming. And you better recall that I do not like to be awakened when I am least expecting it.

Him: Listen ...

Her: The next door neighbor is also out-of-town, and your friend, who was your savior last time you did a misadventure, is also out on a vacation.

Him: Why are you telling me all this? I am not ...

Her: (Slightly louder now)  Are you sure you want to continue this?

Him: Continue what?

Her: You know what I am saying, and by now you should know that I know.

Him: You know what?

Her: (As if slowly reading from some carefully taken notes)  That you left your client office at 6:25 PM, that is 10 minutes late, on a cab booked for the airport ...

Him: (Wondering how in the world she knows that)  Honey, that is not for me. I made the booking for a colleague ...

Her: (Becoming a bit louder) ... but the cab stopped at your favorite snacks joint for almost 10 minutes and it was waiting for a long time at the usual busy traffic junction. You also took a different route today to the airport, you have reached the airport just now and the registration number of the cab is ...

Him: (Suddenly recalling the mobile app feature that lets his near and dear ones know about every step of his cab experience, and trying to make another attempt to continue his surprise by daring to interrupt her)  Honey, my colleague is also a regular at the same snacks joint, and he would also have passed through the same traffic junction. After all, he was also on his way to the airport, right?

Her: Your next cab booking that you will now say you have made for your colleague shows our apartment as the final destination. And I don't know any colleague who stays in our apartment.

Him: (Struggling to find another escape route)  Oops! That must be a mistake. I would have repeated the previous booking, as I always do. I will cancel that booking right now.

Her: Last chance ... do you want to sleep with the watchman? #$^^$#%^&

Him: No, I will reach my hotel late, and will perhaps not be able to sleep because of ...

Her: Send me a selfie on WhatsApp right now, that shows me that you have reached the client office.

Him: Honey, you know I am not on social media during office hours.

Her: Did you give your credit card to your friend? Our mail shows the transaction details for the payment he made to the cab.

Him: (Finally giving up, cursing himself for selecting the shared mail account for receiving the credit card transaction details)  Honey, not fair. You should have let me give you a surprise this time. I will reach home at the usual time. I know you will be waiting for our regular cup of coffee.

Her: (Triumphantly grinning)  Didn't I tell you that you can never hide anything from me? You should not have checked-in on Facebook after reaching the airport.

Him: Damn technology!

Monday, September 22, 2014

Learning has no age


Tangy Tuesdays
(This post has been selected by blogadda for its Tangy Tuesday Picks on September 23, 2014)

Earlier today, I was having a look at pictures of a ceremony. There was a big decorated stage, a lot of people sitting in front, so many cameras. The ceremony was presided over by the Governor of the state, and hence a lot of government and district administration officials were present. In the crowd, there was a group of around 10 ladies, all very excited and at the same time nervous, about the event they were participating in. The average age of the group was easily more than 50 years, but the anxiety levels could perhaps compete with a group half their age.

Their excitement was special for them because they were the star attraction that evening. There was an added zing because the event was a convocation ceremony. Yes, a post-graduate convocation ceremony for a bunch of enthusiastic ladies who at this age had the conviction to finish what they could not do so many years back - to finish an unfinished task.

The pictures, and earlier the event itself that took place almost 2 months back, leave me with goose bumps. All thanks to one particular lady in the group - My Dear Mother! Yes, there she was, my source of inspiration for so many years. It was a dream come true for me, as much as it was for her. One person who has always stood by me, any time, any where. One person for whom words do not come easily in my mind. I have in the past attempted writing some rhyming lines for a few of my dear ones. But whenever I even think about making an attempt to write about her, my mind stops. Anyways, the intent behind this post is not to write paeans about her. No words or feelings can do justice to this creation of God. The intent was to focus on the conviction shown by this bunch of ebullient ladies. It was to highlight the fact that you are never too old to learn anything.

For the last two years of her student life, I could see her getting jittery before the exams, getting up early to finish her studies, sitting late in the night even though India was loudly asking some questions on the television or Kapil Sharma was entertaining some heroine. She was all nerves when the results were expected, and questions like "what will my grandson think of me if I fail?" forced a smile on my face. The best one was the reaction when she missed the top rank by a whisker. Right before the exams, the group of ladies used to exchange notes and there were a few who actually couriered her some notes from another city. Such was the enthusiasm!

Even at this age, she is excited about her new smart phone, she is curious to know about making online bill payments, she will make 10 attempts to take a picture of an official document she received at home to send a clean copy to me. Whatsapp already figures in the list of her downloads, she has been checking videos on Youtube, and I expect her to send me a friend's request on Facebook soon. Guess how interesting her recommendation for me on LinkedIn will look like.

All this reminds me of one gentleman who surprised me with similar excitement and eagerness to learn at an advanced age. Takes me a few years back, when I was doing my engineering and was staying with him. Preparing for the semester exams the next day, I was struggling with a difficult problem in thermodynamics. Beside me was this gentleman, equally engrossed in his thoughts, trying to finish answering his set of questions. He was almost 70 years of age then, doing his post-graduation in Sanskrit language, that too by correspondence. That day, he was answering the monthly set of questions, that needed to be sent out. He was meticulously going through the entire routine, forgetting about his food, even his daily dose of newspapers. One more source of inspiration for me, that day and today, for the enthusiasm to learn at any age. What I make of this inspiration is anybody's guess, and a topic for another day! This gentleman was none other than my Maternal Grand Father.

Someone will ask, what was the trigger for this nostalgia? Well, I was interacting with a bunch of fresh MBA graduates, who, having joined the corporate life believe that their learning is over, and now it is all about earning. This FedEx advertisement is my all-time favorite to share with these studs.


Two messages - Learning doesn't get over, whatever be the age! Learning doesn't get over, whatever be the educational qualification!

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Of Ps and Qs

Having spent majority of the Frankfurt - San Francisco leg of my journey thinking about the unsolved riddle, and thanking to God that amidst my woes with Ps and Qs, i.e. pronunciation and queues, I managed with addition of just one more tick off in my list, the landing announcement made by the Captain added to my discomfort, as it triggered another series of thoughts in my mind. "What next?" and "When is the next tick off?" (check here and here for the earlier tick offs) were the questions rattling me.

Keeping my fingers crossed, I disembarked from the aircraft and followed fellow passengers towards the immigration check. My well-rehearsed answers from the visa interview came to my rescue once again, and I was on my way to the baggage carousel in just about fifteen minutes. By now, I had successfully managed two queues (one while disembarking, and the second one at the immigration counter), and was feeling better because pronunciation issues did not get me into any unfamiliar trouble with the immigration officer. This confidence helped me sail through my three days stay, and I was ready for the next leg of the journey - San Francisco to New York.

Driving to the airport, all the while talking to the Indian cabbie in Hindi, was a good break from accents and pronunciation. Missing from the list of suggestions and advises he gave me was the fact that the luggage trolley at the airport needed a swipe of my credit card to come out of the rack. This, I realized, only after failing to get one out with brute force and of course, after getting those "Oh, look at that idiot" looks. Tick tick six! Damn, isn't it so easy in India? After similarly struggling on yet another novelty called self check-in kiosk (yes, they were not so ubiquitous in India those days), I joined the queue for security check. Waiting in the queue, I was so happy to see exactly three more first-timers struggling with the luggage trolley and exactly two more novices learning how to use the kiosk. In close to thirty minutes, I was at the head of the queue, and at the receiving end of yet another, now familiar, stare from the security person. After "politely" being told that I was supposed to "check-in" the bag as well, I was on my way towards the check-in counter. How in the world did I think of taking the big blue monster with me as a cabin luggage? Anyways, my romance with queues continued. Tick tick seven!

To be on a safer side, this time I chose to skip the kiosk, and opted for the manual counter. After three attempts at getting the pronunciation of Newark correct, or so I believed, I was again back in the queue for security check. This time I made it pass the lady, without missing the smirk on her face. After crossing the length and breadth of the airport for next half an hour, I reached my terminal and started waiting for the next announcement. All this while, I was a bit restless, mulling over the series of events till now. I was sure something was amiss. Knowing very well that my pronunciation had already made me drink vodka instead of water (Link), and remembering the exchange of confused looks during my second check-in, I walked down to the airline counter to verify my check-in details. Being assured by the executive that my final destination in the system is indeed Newark, I got back to the waiting area, with a lingering thought still in my mind that all is not well. Even the airport code of my destination on the baggage tag had no mention of New York, or Newark, or anything similar. May be they don't use logically derived airport codes in this part of the world!

Throughout the journey from SF to NY, the restlessness refused to subside. Another new experience, that of traveling with a no-frills airline, hit me when I realized that the meals on-board were not complimentary. To add to the agony, there were only some cookies available in the vegetarian menu, and the flight duration was almost seven hours. By the time I reached NY, hungry as a wolf, I was certain that my bag had not reached the same destination. As if on cue, I happened to see a lost baggage reporting counter right next to the carousel. I don't remember seeing one of those so conspicuously close to the carousel on any of the other airports I have been to. Missing bags was much more frequent in this part of the world it seemed!

Well as luck would have it, my fears came true and I ended up taking the service of the lost baggage counter. After providing all the relevant information, I walked towards the airport exit. The security person, on being asked about the taxi stand, advised me to take the more economical shuttle service to Hilton. Receiving such a warm treatment from the gentleman, when you are struggling in the cold weather and surprisingly wet night, felt nice. On reaching the hotel, my next surprise was eagerly waiting for me. I was told that I do not have a reservation in the hotel. After checking and re-checking the system multiple times, I finally thought of checking one of the multiple print outs I had taken. Only then did I come to know that the reservation is in Hilton Time Square, and I was standing in Hilton Newark. Wow!! Tick tick eight!

The receptionist was kind enough to arrange a cab for me. Here I was, in The Big Apple, with missing luggage and empty stomach in the middle of the night, with a slight drizzle and temperatures unexpectedly touching the lower single-digits, sitting in a cab driven by a dangerous looking, unknown person. To my relief, there was no more surprise for me till the time I reached Hilton Times Square. The cabbie, perhaps reading my mind, drove me through Times Square around 12:30 AM, and managed to bring a smile on my face. Who says dangerous looking unknown people are not kind?

Next two days were full of follow-up calls. Needless to say, getting through the IVR system was an exercise in itself as it didn't understand the way I pronounced my name. Having finally got the pronunciation of my name right (huh?), I was inadvertently directed to someone sitting in India, with the executive talking in a "known" accent. I finally persuaded her to speak in Hindi, which made things easier for both of us. Finally, they were able to trace my bag to, guess where, Las Vegas. Having worn an almost rugged looking jeans (well any jeans will look rugged after wearing them for more than 48 hours) and a round-neck t-shirt to the office on a Monday, it was such a relief on seeing my blue champion sitting nicely in my room, having spent one night in Vegas! By the way, did I forget to mention that I was not having any carry-on luggage, and ...

Recollecting my conversations during the second check-in process, it was another unsolved riddle shaping up - how did Newark get lost in pronunciation to become Vegas? I believe I should connect with Russell Peters in case he is looking for new accent and pronunciation jokes!