It happened last night

Ever wondered how much a situation can go worse  on an otherwise wonderful day? Well, everything. When dear Murphy is in town, you better enjoy the ride 'coz shit is going down anyways. For me it was last night. Came back from a day-long symposium on Frugal innovation, only to realize at the doorstep of my flat that I left my keys inside. But this is only the beginning of the eventful night. Flatmate is out town till Sunday, and I have no idea who my landlord is. Took my phone out to call her, only to realize my S2 is out of charge and is dead. So there I was, in the middle of Hamburg city yet completely disconnected from everything else. And you think at this point some miracle will happen in this reality show. Definitely not in mine. Rummaging through my bag, all I found were few sticks of gum, chocolate wrappers, business cards, one book, a 10 euros note and my bus ticket (O' the joy of over-sleeping and rushing out in the morning!) Apparently with my keys, my bank cards were also inside, guess what... my FLAT! Checking into a hotel for the night was no longer an option. Considering Hamburg has more bridges than Amsterdam, my night shelter option was literally flashing in my head at that moment. Another first to my ever-growing list of weird experiences. However, I was not ready to freeze overnight.

So with pocketful of delusion and whatever left of my ego, I walked-in to the nearest shadiest sports bar (another first!) At that point my survival instinct outweighed my dislike for whiskey and dirty bars. I ordered the strongest they have and incidentally got the bartender to help my phone-situation  with a makeshift charger(an iPod plug charger connected to a usb connector that fitted my S2 perfectly), which he had to get from his home two blocks away. So grateful by his gesture that I had to get the next round of whiskey shots for us( I m no Lannister, but I always pay my debts). Meanwhile, it turns out that my flatmate was on the road, without any cell reception. Which implied that I can still continue with my one-night-under-bridge plan, or gamble a bit on my luck, and look for a spare key to my flat (if that existed!). And since I didn't have any contact details of her friends, I sent S.O.S message to her top six friends on her Facebook profile (A little bit of stalking, no harm intended). Now it was all about waiting for response, keeping all my fingers and toes crossed.

You might be thinking why the hell I didn't call any of my friends in the city to crash at their place for the night. Well if I did that, I would have cut-short the excitement of my misadventure that was unfolding quite interestingly so far. Taking the easy way out is always there, but enjoying the struggle is something else. And in the middle of these chaos, I found myself to be unnaturally calm and I am still laughing about it. I know I screwed it up by forgetting the keys in the first place, but worrying much wouldn't have helped me either. And while at it I might as well have a kickass time out of the experience. So I ended up watching the Germany vs. England match in the bar with a bunch of strange, drunk men. Friendly matches are no fun but last night, in that smoky, shady place cheering for Germany with total strangers added the 'zing' factor to my already interesting evening.

The game ended 1-0 (Germany kicking England's ass just like in 2010), and my first SOS response blinked on the phone screen. So there is a spare key in the city! A bit buzzed and a bit elated, I jumped onto the next bus to continue my quest for the key. While I was busy giving the imaginary-fives to myself, I managed to take the wrong bus and reach the other side of the town. By now Murphy was banging his head on the table. However with my newfound sense of purpose to complete this "game-level" successfully before dawn, I dragged me back to the right route only to find myself walking in circles to locate the correct house address. Oh well, the last leg of any race is always the toughest and also the most ecstatic. And to be able to enter my flat last night was against all odds. I am glad that I gambled on me instead of accepting the situation. As always loving the risk, loving the uncertainty and the insanity of life-situations, but most importantly enjoy sustaining it, is where my passions lie. So until the next misadventure Murphy-venture, I take a bow now and humbly pass-out in my bed (still exhausted from last night!)

Of goddesses and of sluts

Today is Mahalaya which means homecoming of Goddess Durga down to earth and this marks as the auspicious beginning of Durga Puja. Listening to the Mahishasuramardini every year by Birendra Krishna Bhadra in the All India Radio on Mahalaya was a tradition I grew up in. This is oratorio of chants to invoke and welcome the Goddess by praying "Jago, tumi jago" – "Arise, O thou arise!" (For those who don't understand Bengali, click here for the meaning.) Apparently, the invoking of Goddess is so powerful and intense that it overwhelms the one who chants it with emotion and reverence.  

Such is the land of India, where men worships goddesses. Ironically, this is also the land where men violates the being of a woman, openly. Now you may refute that laws are changing and the offenders are punished severely. But does it matter? Call me cynical, but even if rapists are given death penalty, this is just a temporary outlier considering the gravity of this hideous crime. We are only fooling ourselves into thinking that one critical judiciary move will change the entire scenario of the nation. Death sentence will not solve the underlying problem - the serious issue of pervasive gender discrimination and violence in India. The truth is, we have failed as a nation. Whats the point of invoking the Goddess Durga every year when you can't protect the living goddesses in your own surroundings? 

This extends from birth to death, starting with female feticide (the male-to-female population ratio is 0.93, worse than it was in 1970) and continuing with very high levels of child marriage (47 percent), teen pregnancy (62 per 1,000), maternal mortality (200 per 100,000 live births), domestic violence (50 percent), and sexual assault (over 24,000 cases reported last year). The numbers are crazy and these are only the reported cases. There are millions of unreported rapes and domestic violences which involves repeated offenders. Most women keep mum either fearing death or bringing "bad name" to the family. They would rather live a life of lajja or shame in silence then nail the bastards that harmed them. Why? It is the society that imposes shame on them. There is this really sick idea that is doing rounds in some circles of Indian society - any form of sexual violence is always provoked by the woman. It is entirely her fault because of her "bad" character or the way she dresses. And make no mistake, these circles I talk about are not the uneducated men from poor sections of the society,  but highly educated ones with fancy profession - people who wear suits to work everyday and stir their coffee clockwise. They are no different from rural men who thinks a woman's place is in kitchen and behind a veil, being forever pregnant and obeying the master of the house. If a young woman wears clothes of her choice, loves partying with her friends, consumes alcohol or flirts with men, then she is called a slut and it is entirely her fault if she gets molested or raped. Its her loose character that should be questioned because she sexually provokes the men in her vicinity. If thats the case, then what about girl children who gets raped and then killed? Were they too sexually provoking their offenders? 

Rape is not sex, its violence. It is a sense of entitlement and power. The rapists mentality reeks with the idea that their victims deserved it and should be shown who is more dominating. Will strict laws ever scare a mindset that refuses to see "weaker sex" as nothing but a mere property that should be "controlled" and be receptacle to male sperms? I think not. Do these men fear of being exposed someday? Nope. Infact, they are super-confident that what they did was right and it was only to bring back some order in society. Rape is not about women sexually provoking men, its about women being more empowered these days. Slowly but gradually, the women -literate or illiterate- knows in their own way what they truly want. They have come to realise who they are and what they can do, despite what male religion and politics say. What men - rapists or otherwise- should start accepting is, even if you try to physically possess our bodies, you have no power over our minds and souls. And someday when this thought is deeply rooted in every men of this country, will these vicious acts of crime finally stop. This is what I hope and pray for the Maa Durgas of the country.

The Cheesecake test initiation (Beta)

If there is one thing I truly miss from my Philadelphia days is a super creamy cheesecake (ok, I miss the super greasy Philly Cheesesteak too!). And somehow the German Käsekuchen wasn't working for me. It is too healthy and the taste of quark still feels alien for me.

The batter - always the delicious start to baking. Too bad I didn't find Graham crackers in Hamburg!

So this time I decided to take matters into my hands and launched the NewYork cheesecake test initiation. The conditions for carrying out the experiment were perfect  - (a) Accidentally I am home for once on a Friday night (b) lots of reading to be done before my next literature meet-up (c) I am in mood for food lab experiments. Mixing the three was possible that evening.

Philadelphia Cream cheese however saves my day!

The book in discussion is Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. I think it will be interesting to discuss a book I read a decade ago, keeping in mind the crux of discussion always being "Who is John Galt?" and Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism. John Galt is the fictional hero in Atlas Shrugged who quoted the famous line - "I swear by my life and my love of it that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine". It was his speech towards the end of the book that impacts me, even ten years later. He epitomises capitalism at its purest form - innovation, self-reliance, and free from government interference. Speculating on his views is nothing more than my own conflicted and ambivalent views on governmental regulations. The idea of rational self-interest fits to the T when I think about why India needs budding entrepreneurs and not just "IIT-IIM" smart employees. We have some of the world's best minds, but our entrepreneurial innovators are terrified and infuriated with lack of support from government and most financial institutions. The government is definitely anti-growth and derives sadistic pleasure on creating more (unnecessary) regulations to kill entrepreneurial ventures. 

The sight and the smell of fresh baking that engulfs my house - pure joy!

I come from a family of entrepreneurs, and I am well aware of the all sorts problems raised by Indian government when you want to start a project.  Looking at all the potential of this country, it saddens me that most of them remains untapped. So I wonder, would John Galt be more disturbed by the plethora of governmental regulations, or the government's failure to support entrepreneurial ventures in the country? Two separate situations, but both intertwined with highly complex political and financial challenges. Instead of encouraging to create more jobs to boost the economy, the trend is to get a "safe" job. But is safety worth at the cost of a staggering economy? The funda is simple : no new jobs, less competition in the market, less innovation. Hence rate of progress infinitesimally small. I hate the fact that India is still a developing country. But what disturbs me the most is that most Indians are happy with that status quo. 

Sour cream topping - simple but so delicious!

The truth is Indian entrepreneurs operate in "fight or flight" mode.  Many will attempt to fight their way through by consciously limiting growth (and thus government scrutiny), keeping their employed population a small as reasonably possible. Others have and more will merely exit the field. Others will stay, with regret, in more secure positions rather than enter a rigged game. They will manifest the numbness that grips many a normally stout-heart today. This brings me to another big question : Will "going John Galt" bring a change in the entrepreneurial scenario in India? Fed up with the socialistic world he’s living in, Galt decides to leave and encourages numerous other entrepreneurs to follow him. As a result, the economy more or less grinds to a halt.

Midnight cheesecake party - always the best sharing with friends!

Not long ago, the Father of the Nation did tell us, "If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. … We need not wait to see what others do." The implications would be dire if our business leaders and entrepreneurs actually decides "going John Galt" . Possible decay in the economic dynamism and lack of employment growth is just the tip of the iceberg. But there will be a revolution - one that protests against government's unconstitutional regulations and taxes. For that, entrepreneurs must take action. Now. Of course, it will be challenging to emulate our larger-than-life fictional hero, John Galt. However we do have exemplary heroes like Dhirubhai Ambani or Steve Jobs, who were infact true-to-life John Galt.

And the morning-after with a cup of coffee.

So if you are an entrepreneur, I challenge you to pick the role model you most identify with, and take actions before you lose your profits, freedom and ability to innovate. Repeat this loudly - "Get the hell out of my way!" everytime the bureaucratic puppets try to control you. The impeding question is no longer "Who is John Galt?" but its more of now "going John Galt". I want more owners and investors in this country to manage the economy. And if this sounds like capitalism outcry , so be it. 

‘The guilt is ours… If we who were the movers, the providers, the benefactors of mankind, were willing to let the brand of evil be stamped upon us and silently to bear the punishment for our virtues—what sort of “good” did we expect to triumph in the world?’ - Atlas Shrugged.

The man who loves his birthdays

My friends often tell me that when it comes to birthdays (either mine or theirs), I get super excited. Sometimes even more than them to celebrate their day. Par kya karoon ? Aaj pata chala hain ki yeh toh genetic locha hain (This is genetic disorder).

I woke up today with a SMS saying, "Happy Birthday to me." And who else could that be other than my old man. So when I teased him he is getting too old to make a big deal out of his birthday, prompt came the reply, "Don't forget my age determines yours as well'. It will be wrong to call this jokestar my dad, 'coz he has been more like a friend to us. Always the life of any party with his humor and impromptu dance moves, I bet today he has quite few aces up his sleeve.

Honestly, I never felt any generation gap between us. He made our childhood Peter-Pan's like, taking us from the Never- Never land of pirates and magical creatures during the bedtime stories to the world of Harry Potter where we did mock spell duels(btw, the only spell he knows is "Lumos").There has never been a dull moment with him even when I was sick 'coz he sang me lullabies till I was old enough to remember the lyrics. Everything always seemed so right because he was always there to tie my hair ribbons, and shoe strings tight. They say Gemini dads are the best, and I got very lucky on that!

Growing up with him was like being a treated as a young adult ever since I can remember. He never built me a doll house, but instead made me a whole hydro-electric power project model for my science fair. We worked the whole night building the model out of plaster of paris, with him adding the minute details like where the worker camps should be during the construction of such project. He taught me not only to dream, but to dream big. And when I decided to leave home at 16, he was the only one who understood my need to be out there to find myself. I am glad he had always let me walk my own path, without burdening me with a list of do's and don'ts like most fathers. No wonder I hum “My heart belongs to daddy!” when I  fix that bulb, pay my bills, negotiate with the boss, and say it how it is to the bank manager. Because in between fun and games, he taught me how to tackle life, be self-sufficient, emanate confidence, and build good relationships with men. 

So on this day when you turned a year "younger", let me  thank you for every single thing you've done for me in life, every single smile you've given me, every single tear that you've gulped on my behalf. And even though I am a bit far away, I promise when I am back home I will bake your favorite cake, and we shall toast to the new year of your life with your favorite whiskey (I will get that as well!). Love you Papa, you are the best!

Birthday boy doing what he does best - living larger than life!

Trip to the Dark Side of the Moon... and back

I write this as I am coming down from my Dark Side of the Moon trip. Last night I  experienced what I can best describe as feeling - infinite. The Pink Flyod audio-visual tribute at Hamburg Planetarium was a total treat to all the senses. The cosmic stage set with choreography of 3D images, laser beams and occasional smoke released in the air was blockbuster stuff. Of course, the music from the entire album, Dark side of the Moon was intense as always, and with the great acoustics you could feel it in your skin. The show is actually a collaboration with the Salt Lake City Planetarium (USA) and proved to be a whole new platform to experience Pink Floyd on the 40th anniversary of the album.

There is something about this psychedelic music that I had always enjoyed listening to sitting upside down among other things. The rush of blood to the head with the music reverberating in the ear drums makes you float higher with the musical crescendo, and then dropping into a dark abyss. The songs remind us of our place in the cosmos, and the fact that how infinitesimally relevant our individual hopes and fears are actually in this vastness. Irony is, these two factors govern our whole lives. Many say the prism in the album cover represents ambition and madness. I think its pretty neat. (For those interested about this artwork, can follow this link further.)

Anyways coming back to the show, the visuals are designed to make you feel like you are on an acid trip. The theoretical smoke released occasionally during the show further confirms my above statement. I love the effect of laser beams cutting through this haze. All in all, the show is a total mindfuck. Excuse the last word, as I find no better way to explain that feeling. As you immerse yourself in that moment, there is love, joy, peace, elation, sadness - all hitting you at the same time. You can either close your eyes and savor the moment, or dare to keep them open and bask in it. Either way, you feel infinite.

There's someone in my head but it's not me.
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon....

Insurance

Mothers are like our old-age insurance

Not only they teach you to get old gracefully

But also show you what you will be like when old,
Like a mirror to the future.

Thank God, mine is an entrepreneur, doctor, an amazing singer - my supermom

But most importantly,

Someone with a Big and Beautiful heart.

Now, I can't wait to get old.