Friday, July 15, 2011


The conversation described involved my mom and our cook. It just seemed to stand out from the rest of the mundane conversations we all have day in and day out.

My mother and her friend of 15 years were over at our house the other day designing a workshop they had to deliver. The friend, lets call her Mau-- is an extremely sweet and rich Guju lady who has been in "transition" since I know her....i.e she is allowed to work, earn money and stay out of the house-- as long as she is back home to serve hot rotis to her husband every evening. She is very traditional will a hint of freedom on the horizon. You get the point. This is how it all went down.

Pushpa Tai (the cook): What do I make for dinner tonight?
Mom: PT, please take a call. Am tired of telling you what to make on a daily basis.
PT: Ok. Will make something special for the kids (my wife and I) tonight. Any suggestions?
Mom: Ok, make Egg Curry for Satyajit and Karela for the Mrs.
The blood drained from Mau's face. She could not believe what she had heard and more importantly who said it. It was a betrayal Mau would not stand. My mom looked up and realised what was happening.

Mom: ha ha. I know how it sounds but the Mrs is allergic to eggs and loves karela. If she had it her way she would have it everyday.

Mau smiled and they went back to being friends again.

More conversations here

Friday, June 24, 2011

What marriage does

A couple of friends and I went for a movie last night. All 3 of us are married and above the age of 30. The crowd at E-Square was young & hip with ghatis thrown in for taste. We were somewhere in between--- almost undecided which side we belonged to. Not sure we wanted to pick a side...we being above 30 AND married.

As we waited outside the theater for the movie to start our eyes wandered at the pretty young things in the crowd. I noticed that when I found a target I would look at her from the time she was visible till she turned the corner or I lost interest or another PYT came along. All 3 of us followed this pattern.

I remembered that when I am with the Mrs I do not look at other women for more than a couple of seconds. Don't get me wrong, its not out of fear of an ass kicking. It just does not "seem right". When I told my friends they said its just the way one is oriented after being married. Its almost like an invisible checklist that need to be ticked when dealing with other women. We do not look at other women (for too long) not out of fear, but some sort of subconscious obligation to our spouses. And you know what the worse part is.....if I do stare at another woman when with the Mrs, I keep my glaze fixed on the Mrs for the next 5 mins to compensate.

Such is life.

Thursday, January 20, 2011


Dusk, my favorite time of day was upon us. The sunlight kissed the horizon ever so lightly. I stood in the balcony eagerly anticipating her arrival. The event was in the making for some time now. We set off as soon as she arrived on a path we had never taken together. Her eagerness, anticipation and excitement made it difficult for me to keep pace. Asking her to slow down would rain hell but I did anyway.

We arrived at our destination after what seemed like a millennium for her. The cool breeze kissed my face, the chatter reminded me that this was a happy place and the love all around allowed me to breath freely. I searched for the point of this all and paraphrased Henry Thoreau - rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth.

I set the process in motion and turned around to see her radiant face. The truth was right there staring at me with those doe eyes. The look on her face was the same Genghis would have had after conquering the world, the look that dude from Ghajini would have if he remembered minute details of his life or a man after his first sip of wine having crossing a desert.
I smiled as she took her second bite of the Pani Puri.

Friday, December 24, 2010

The year that was

2010 has been surreal. The highlight of the year for me has to be starting my own consultancy. It was inevitable but everything else including family, friends etc took a back seat when it came to the company. Needless to say I learned a lot. More than I have in the 8 years of my working life. Made new friends, lost old ones, got stabbed in the back, cried, shouted, rejoiced and had a blast. I used my family whenever required and ignored them the rest of the time. They understand this and continue to be supportive. Also, the benchmarks set for the year seem to be achievable.

4 months of bed rest due to broken bones and the pain compounded by the fact that the Mrs and I were in different cities. You really know who cares and who does not when you are bed-ridden. It helps separate the wheat from the chaff. I suggest you all try it once. I also have to get used to idea they I may never play football again. Guess, shit happens.

The year also saw friends blessed with babies, people getting married and good friends leaving town. The year is ending on a happy note with the Mrs back in town, Dad doing well in his new venture, mom counselling and I a lot more calmer. Wonder how long that will last. Miss K and M but am happy knowing they are doing what they love. STUDYING. The Mrs also won a National Award and got a promotion.

Resolution for 2011? Simple. Try and keep the company afloat and of course - get into shape.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


I often debate with friends/family/colleagues that the reason why service in India (any and every kind) sucks is due to the Demand Supply equation. In a country of more than a billion consumers we dont need after sales service or logic to run a business. This is of-course a short term strategy but Indians hardly ever look at anything long term. The "tu nahi to koi aur sahi" phase will last for at least 5 more years. The Demand is so high and well its hard to decide if Idea or Airtel is a bigger asshole that we go with what we have. This belief was put to the test on Diwali night.

Post puja, dinner and the cracker session we we sitting and chatting. Folks, wife, a friend(JK) and I. The doorbell rang and the daughter of a neighbor told us her dad slipped in the house, cut himself and was bleeding profusely. We rushed to his house, bundled him in the car and rushed him to Joshi Hospital. The man was not yelling cause he was in shock but the amount of blood loss was insane. My kurta was soaked, dad had a bit on him, JK too, the driver and not to mention the floor of their house. We lay him down and the drama began. I had bitched about Joshi hospital here when I broke my leg. The man is on the hospital bed bleeding and the attendant who was an intern told me the doctor on call was out of town. I asked if he were out of town how could he be the doctor on call. Well, she repeated what she said earlier. The GP told her to talk to the plastic surgeon who told her to talk to an ortho who told her to talk to the doctor on call and ALL of them asked if he was a "Paying" patient. Finally after 35 mins I walked into her office and said " Madame, I am not trying to tell you how to do you job but it would be a good idea to stop the bleeding wont it". The lady got her act together and did arrest the bleeding. All the rooms were full at Joshi so after and hour or so we shifted him to Ratna Memorial Hospital. Everybody told me that its the same case at most hospitals. But the experience at Ratna was awesome. The doctor on call was there in 15 mins. Explained to us the further course of action and moved on. He or his staff never asked us if we were a paid patient btw.

It struck me right there---the real reason we dont give customer service is because we dont give a FUCK. Apathy. As clear as day. I feel better already cause now I know I dont need to put my head through a wall to try and understand why service is not being delivered.

Saturday, October 16, 2010


Good news is that I have started to wear a shoe on the left foot again. I still use a walker and limp but its progress. This development confuses the hell out of strangers. Before I started wearing the shoe the bandage on my foot was clearly visible and it was for all to see that I was injured. With the shoes on, all I get is sympathy and teary eyed looks. Couple of things about people on the street and strangers you meet.

1) People on the street are always confused when they should step in to help and how. I was coming down the steps of a shop on a busy street a few days back. I wasn't struggling but was slow. This dude comes out of nowhere to lend a helping hand...I yelled "Dont touch me". Real loud for all to hear. He was too stunned to react. Hahaha....what a fun. Try it sometime.

2) Strangers you meet ALWAYS want to know what happened. They just cant seem to let go. Its this irresistible urge to put a reason for the condition before starting a conversation. My move next time some asks me that is to say "Birth defect. I hate my parents for it". Will let you know how it turns out.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Drink to my bones


The fact that a lot people use Facebook, Twitter, Blogs etc to confess their love for their nephews, nieces & children is finally getting to me. Facebook has the bad habit of displaying on my page what people throw up on theirs. "Pappu ate his first bogger today" or "My little one makes cute faces while taking a shit while my elder one makes castles of poo". Since I do not have a child and I would rather play catch with my nephew than upload his photographs, I have decided to tell you the story about my left leg which is way more important than all your children put together.

Summary: Broke 2 bones above my left ankle while playing football. My parents and wife were not in town. I wasn't carrying my wallet or cellphone. It was a complex fracture. Had surgery. Have 2 steel plates and 14 screws in my leg now. Your 3 year old niece can beat me at the 100 mts.

The point is, extended periods of inactivity slows time down. One can do nothing else except think. There are a lot of things that happened during this time and here goes the summary.

1) The incident: We are a bunch of unfit, slaves to the corporate world dudes who play football 1-2 times a week. When you play 5 a side games once or twice a week the process is as follows when it comes to on-field injuries :
a) Evaluate
b) Play doctor
c) Argue

a) Evaluate: The first thing that you do is evaluate the injury. Not out of concern but to decide if we can roll this dude outta the ground and continue with the game. "Kya hua" and " Can you continue playing" are the questions I was asked. Also keep in mind if 1 guy drops out, you are playing 4 on 5 which isn't easy.

b) Play doctor: Any footballer worth has salt will lie about most of the injuries he has had and claim to have extensive knowledge about sports injuries. He will also diagnose & give a solution to your injury. This is how the conversation went:
Me: Fk dude. Think I broke my leg
The Dr: No dude, its a dislocated ankle
Me: I know it man. I heard the snap
The Dr: Quit being a bitch. I have dislocated my ankle before. I can put it back in place.
Me (in total disbelief): Do you see the broken bone jutting outta my socks 4 inches above my ankle? Broken bones asshole
The Dr: I disagree. You are in pain and cannot think straight
My advise is to stay the hell away from the on-field doctor.

c) Argue: After the diagnosis is labeled serious the arguments started. Mode of transport, how should I be picked up and what doctor/hospital to go to. Everyone claimed to have the best knowledge about everything.

All in all the 3 steps turn out to be a dick measurement exercise amongst those present.

2) The Hospital: After much argument and yelling I was bundled into an auto and we went to Joshi Hospital. This place is the stuff nightmares are made of. 7 footballers, my broken foot and I enter the hospital. I was put on a stretcher while a friend carefully removed my football shoes. The ward boys from hell came to rip my socks off when I politely requested them to cut the socks rather than rip it off and permanently damage my leg. They concurred. Then right outta the movies I was stretched off to the X-ray room hitting every corner and door on the way there. The ward-boy promptly taps me on my injured leg to tell me to move onto the X-ray table.

The attendant was a cock-eyed, salivating slob who had been pushed around all his life. All 8 of us took an instant disliking for his. He kept telling me that surgery was required and that I should get admitted. We did not trust him and I decided to call someone else I knew. The clincher is....The slob refused to give me a painkiller till I agreed to get admitted in the hospital. I did not. He also made me write and sign a note saying I left the hospital of my own free will. He also yelled at me for the bad handwriting---I wrote the note while on a stretcher, facing up, with no support for the paper and 2 broken bones. Some people

Overall it was an insane experience. What happened after I shifted into Kelkar hospital is like a dream. The friendly professional doctors, the morphine like painkiller shots and the 2 people holding me down while the doctor put on a temporary cast makes me laugh now. Am on the way to recovery...

- Broken bones do not hurt as much as I thought
- My ass still hurts from the 10 injections I had to take
- I have not put on any weight
- Thank the guys who helped me out
- Thanks to a friend....she know who she is

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Steve Jobs and Bill Gates

(click on image for larger view)