Shaken and Stirred

I tried the hair saloon once. What I mean by that is that I went to the expensive, air-conditioned Britney-Spears-playing stylists as opposed to my regular round-the-corner barber. This was after I came back from France and my long, flowing European tresses were getting stripped away by the minute in the heat and dust of India. As it had been more than eight months since my previous haircut, I was willing to experiment. Besides, there was the little matter of the 50% off coupons in my possession. I was turned away at first when I reached there since I had not taken an appointment beforehand! Not one to get the hint fate was giving me in the form of the rejection, I scheduled my coiffure at a convenient hour. At the anointed hour, the first thing I noticed in the saloon was that I was the only male customer there. Of course, there was no dearth of spiky-haired, booted-up, covered in body art, men in black stylists that were present. Once in the hot seat, I got the sales pitch about...

My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems... I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation - Sherlock Holmes Though, of late, I have been feeling that my mind rather revels in stagnation. After all, this post is a result of such an endeavour. I let you decide. Here is something for the exalted minds. I seem to have a special talent in dishing out advice to people. They seek me from far and wide to gain my valuable insights into their eccentric little problems. And, in spite of having little knowledge on the matter, I always seem to be able to give reasonable and sound Plans of Action all the same. Ashish was spending his summer vacations in the honourable regimen of updating his Facebook status message and wondering which Barcelona shirt he wants his brother to get for him from Europe. When tired of that, he would watch some mind numbing Bollywood movies to help forget the oppressive heat. While watching one of the said movies, he got a brainwave. (Qui...

Glenn had his birthday coming up. I called up everyone to seek ideas for an appropriate gift. In vain. "He has everything!" was one exasperated opinion. Some thought out of the box and came up with really practical gifts like skate-boards. I gave up and went straight to the mall with Arjun , hoping to spot something. At the mall, we hacked around for the 'right' gift. Although books were ruled out initially, we gravitated to the book store as a last resort. After sifting through countless books, we were still clueless. I had quite a reputation to maintain in office. After buying many 'right' gifts, I could not afford to lose the plot now. While selecting a gift, there are three things I look for: - Would s/he like it? - Would it be a talking point? - Would it cost within 800 bucks (our usual budget)? So I sat down and went back to the basics. What would Glenn like? What would all men like? Well, that wasn't a possible gift. So, what else? While I was thi...

Going ahead with my penchant for adapting management principles in life outside the corporate world, my next source of inspiration are feedback forms. To the uninitiated, they are a medium for gauging and improving standards in any organization. Actually, it’s a questionnaire that one has to fill after attending each training session with child-like questions. After filling as many as I have, you run out of new and innovative adjectives to describe the dull and dreary set of questions. Imagine their utility in relationships. A sample form might go like this : Relationship evaluation form Name of participant: Type of relationship: Length of relationship: For those currently in a relationship: What aspects of the relationship do you find most useful? What aspects of the relationship are least helpful to you and why? (if any) What were your objectives when beginning the relationship? To what extent have they been fulfilled? Suggestions/ideas for improvement For those e...

3rd May 2008 Saturday 2130 hrs I am running a temperature of 101F degrees. My brother says he's got a 100.5 himself. Of course he's lying. There is no way he could still be that active. Though come to think of it, I had fever on and off throughout the day and I hardly took any rest. Fever always has this weird way of giving an illusion of recovery before it returns with redoubled vigour. Its been a while since I had such a 'high' fever. Whenever I felt feverish, nothing I did would convince the thermometer to go beyond a 100. So today I looked at it with dull self-congratulation as the mercury rose to a 100.9. I'm calling it a 101, I don't care. I always aimed high as a kid. When my mother would put the stick in my mouth I would pray that the temperature be above 105. At least. All the other kids had had malaria and hay fever. Compared to them, my health chart seemed to be bereft of any excitement. Clearly, I was fiercely competitive as well. Now with time, and ...

Since I am a native of Andhra Pradesh, I know a bit of Telugu. Having stayed in Delhi all my life, I come across people from all kinds of cultural backgrounds: Punjabi, Gujarati, Bengali, Oriya, Tamil, Malayali, etc. When I was in primary school, it was a fun passtime of some of us to learn words of the other's native language. Keshav was a particularly keen one. He had not only learnt counting to ten in Tamil, but also in French and used to flaunt his superior knowledge to all the rest of us jealous beings. There were many Hindi speaking friends of mine who wanted to learn how to say 'Hi' or 'Thank You' in Telugu. Nighi (Punjabi) – who was my neighbor new the Telugu word for 'water' when she was 3. But that was when all of us were little. Now everyone wants to know how to swear in a language foriegn to theirs. Though I get a lot of requests to learn curses in Telugu, I can do little to help out. As I learnt all my Telugu from my parents, I had little to ...

Somename * was very pleased with himself. He was returning to IMSc after attending to some work in Adyar. It was almost quarter to eight. He had promised his friend he will be back in IMSc in time for dinner. Somename was feeling very smug about keeping his promise. He had traversed heavy traffic on mud-sloshed roads, weaving through honking buses and stuck cars. He particularly recalled, with a satisfied smile, how he had overtaken a Toyota Camry on his rather rickety MTB Hercules, borrowed from a PhD student. As he neared the bicycle road, (which lies to one side of the very wide Old Mahabalipuram Road) he remembered that the bicycle road was submerged from the thundershower earlier that evening. Weighing his options between riding on the wrong side of the main road and taking the footpath, he chose the latter. His boisterous mood helping that decision. But there was a glitch. He would have to get off the bike to lift it on to the slightly elevated footpath. That did not feel right...

Debasish* was in a pensive mood (girl problems as usual). He was riding a bike he borrowed from a PhD student, returning from a refreshing bout of cycling. The bike, being a stylish MTB (Mountain Terrain Bike, for the uninitiated), had two sets of handlebars. Debasish was enjoying the fresh air with his hands on the upper ones. As he neared the IMSc gate, he noticed that the narrow entrance was partly blocked by a group of fellow summer interns. But in his very deeply pensive mood, he neglected his noticing this very noticable obstruction. So he carried on, unruffled. Meanwhile, the guy blocking the gate noticed the onrushing Debasish (with a very pensive expression on his face). He tried to move out of his way only to realize that Debasish, in trying to avoid him, moved in the same direction. Now Debasish swerved away and reached for the brakes. To his immediate wonder and anguish, the upper handlebars did not have a set of brakes with them. Brakes were there only for the lower ones...

Chennai has turned out to be most difficult to travel in, especially for a non- Tamilian like me. The public transport system is not really bad. There are loads of buses, and quite frequent too. But sometimes the destinations are written only in the local language. And if you ask for bus routes, using as much sign language as you can manage, one gets a queer 'all buses go there' answer. The auto-rikshaw guys here have made quite a name for themselves for their knavish tendencies. As I was forewarned, I avoid taking an auto as far as possible. So, invariably I end up walking most of the time. But walking has its limits. So me and my friends from Delhi (we are all here for the summer) try to borrow a bicycle whenever possible. Our bicycle rides have been quite eventful. Kanishk* was riding his bike late at night. It was past 1 am. He and his friends had just been to the Besant Nagar Beach. He had been dreading the ride back through the dark and desolate road from IMSc (where his...

"Hey !! How's College??" Oh! The complete sense of ease that follows this remark is remarkable. You know perfectly the routes the conversation is going to take and are familiar with the by-lanes as well. The reason that this very pick-up line is so widely in use among young undergraduates is that complete strangers can become near soul mates within just a few minutes of dialogue after using it. What usually follows is a series of innovative adjectives - that get better with each successive retelling - describing the college, its campus, the crowd, its grandeur and resplendent glory. Hostlers can brag about their night-life while day-scholars rant about the enjoyable trips back and forth. For one practiced in this art, appropriate metaphors also flow with ease, captivating the listener. Of course, well-timed "really!?", "hmmm..", "is that so?", "What about…", etc are all vital and show the level of enthusiasm of the listen...