I would never date...

1. Someone who wears skinny Jeans: These are gods gift to WOMEN, not men. I can’t be with a guy who has the same jeans as me.
2. Someone who pays more attention to his hair than me: Tresses are important but hair narcissism is something I cannot condone.
3. Someone whose vocabulary comprises only “cool” and “rocking”:Kindergarten got over 2 decades ago.
4. Someone who has more shoes than me: The concept of Metrosexual man may be endearing in magazines but when it comes to shoes-I’d like to boast of a bigger collection please.
5. Someone who believes that empty roads are Gods way of telling him to drive at 200 kmph :I agree testosterone makes men trigger-happy** but I am not risking my life for a dim-witted display of bravado.
6. Someone who behaves like a Page-3 socialite when in reality he owns a grocery store :If you can’t respect your life I can’t respect you. Capisce?
7. Someone who is fussy about food: I have known guys to eat anything and everything. I’d like to hold that thought please.
8. Someone whose life revolves around alcohol: There are better elixirs in life. Period.
9. Someone who wears jewellery: Shallow as it may be, if the guy wears more jewellery than me, I think I will probably get confused and think he is me.
10. Someone who thinks that dating a woman is like wielding a high tech gadget: Have you heard of Women’s Liberation my love? If you want a show dog, I know some nice pet-shops.

**- I owe the usage of this word to Mrinal “trigger-happy” Yadava. Gracias ☺

Travel Travails

Madrid

Whoever said that traveling is always fun, enlightening and brimming with heart-warming experiences clearly didn’t travel in Europe during Christmas break. The world becomes a different place altogether during this inferno of Santa and Snow. It’s not that Narnia of magic and smooth transitions but a vortex of delays, missed flights and flight diversions.
So, having finished my final submissions for the semester and having bid happy holidays to all my friends in Madrid I set off for Barajas Airport in Madrid amidst fresh snowfall. Of course, at that time my naïveté, had me thinking of how beautiful everything looked and not of impending delays.
So even when I saw serpentine queues at the KLM check in counter at the airport and the sign “Delayed” flash next to my flight to Amsterdam, I still thought everything would come around. But after having stood in the queue for more an hour, my enthusiasm started to dwindle akin to the effects of Prozac on a patient ,and I didn’t feel so optimistic anymore. I grabbed a croissant and started the mile long walk towards the boarding gate-what surprised me was that even though the flight status said delayed and the check-in lady affirmed to bad weather conditions, why were we still required to board.
I was one of the last few people to enter the aircraft-and how I hate this, on two counts. Firstly, I never get space for my carry on baggage if I enter late. Secondly, since people have nothing better to do like read, sleep etc, they all stare at the late arrival like he/she is an actor in a low budget drama. Thousand staring eyes spells unnerved me like no other. But even though this logic had me anticipating the worst I was able to rest my bags comfortably in a semi-empty overhead compartment with the help of a generous gentleman and I don’t particularly remember anyone’s piercing gaze.
Then long wait in the aircraft began-the snow had to be cleared, the weather had to ameliorate, and the planets had to align. When did that happen, I don’t exactly remember, because I was fast asleep.

Amsterdam.

The aircraft circles the snow covered land mass, which contrasts sharply with the blue of the seas. As the plane lands in Amsterdam in the morning, I am craving a hot breakfast, which I finally have to take to- go from Burger King due to paucity of time. The boarding announcement for the flight to New Delhi flashes every five minutes, prompting me to walk faster and not indulge in duty-free shopping. I reach the boarding gates and have a sigh of relief only to wait there for another hour - squatting on the floor on my jacket.

New Delhi

Flight is an hour delayed ofcourse, and the immigration queue I end up in is crawling, I am not complaining though. I am home and loving it.
So the weather conditions aren’t ideal and exactly conducive to air travel around Christmas time, but everyone wants to be home at this time of the year, and would go through any thing to make sure they do. All the delays and running from one gate to another, standing in queues and sitting on floors seems so trivial when you compare it to where it takes you-Home.
I’d love to be in this inferno of Santa and Snow year after year ;)

Year roundup

The impending economics final exam tomorrow has me probably in a thought frenzy making my verbosity come to life in this form, or has indeed rendered me foolish for instead of reading for tomorrow I am here, intending to write on matters of existential relevance and economic irrelevance. However, feeling Christmassy a tad, I want to spare you the clichéd thoughts running through my head about the alacrity of time and the onset of quarter life crisis.
So late, on this Monday night as temperatures crawl towards the sub zero range, ushering in a feeling of glee at the prospect of impending snow, I realise that the year is indeed about to come to an end. Well, silly me for having ignored that realization so far, but when you have intriguing papers on platform markets to devour, who cares about such trivialities right?
So, the customary favourites for 2009 have to be listed without further ado and here they are- The overrated-only-appreciated-by-me Award nominees

Song of the Year 2009
1.Who will save your soul-Jewel
2. If you could only see-Tonic
3. Lost-Coldplay
4. Lucky Man-The Verve
5.Cowboy Take me away-Dixie Chics

Book of the year 2009
1. Power of Now-Eckhart Tolle
2. The Secret- Rhonda Byrne
3. Many Lives Many masters- Dr. Brian Weiss
4. A New Earth-Eckhart Tolle
5. Eat, pray, Love- Elizabeth Gilbert

City of the Year 2009
1. Mumbai, India
2. Madrid, Spain
3. San Sebastian, Spain
4. New Delhi, India
5. Guangzhou, China

Movie of the Year 2009
1. Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons
2. Garden State
3. Sweet November
4. Lock Stock and Two Smoking barrels
5. Rock and Rolla

Event of the year 2009
1. Cooking Chicken Tikka Masala
2. Watching the first snowfall of my life
3. Learning SPSS
4. Cycling through San Sebastian
5. Watching Real at Santiago Bernabeu

Winners to be declared soon..although this is a purely discretionary award, votes are welcome :)

Scribbled on Page 179 of Milgrom ROberts-Chapter on Moral Hazards and Performance Incentives

A cold winter morn,
full of eager yearn,
foggy from yesterday,
tumbles through the grey.

brrrr.

Back to Business.

10 Things I've learnt in Madrid ( which I have taken upon myself to pass on to the world)

1. Do not put a baguette in a bag full of other groceries. This would cause the said baguette to split into two and fall on the ground mid-way between the grocery store and your apartment.
-First Occurrence: Day 2 of stay
-Frequency of baguette drops till date: 3

2. Do not leave the house with promises of returning early. This almost never happens.
-First Occurrence: Day 1 of Stay
-Frequency of broken promises till date: 3456

3. Ask for directions and prepared to be surprised. Every time. For the uninitiated, the warmth with which the Spanish people direct you to your destination is just short of a hug.:)
-First Occurrence: Day 1 of Stay
-Frequency of being directed by happy passersby till date: 50

4.Do not say no to Sangria. That's Sacrilege.( Not for cultural reasons , but you'd be a fool not to have it)
-First Occurrence: Day 7 of stay
-Frequency of saying no to sangria till date: 3

5. Do not venture out to look for a Ferreteria ( Hardware Store) on a Saturday afternoon at 2 pm. You'd find it but it would be shut. (The same can be generalised for other small specialised stores)
-First Occurence: Month 2 of Stay
-Frequency of failed ferreteria searches till date: 1

6.Jaywalking works.
-First occurrence (involuntary): Day 3 of stay
-Frequency of jaywalking incidents till date: 500

7. Tapas is not Dinner and will never be. Do not confuse Tapas with a full meal. It isn't. I've learnt the hard way, so I suggest plan a meal before or after Tapas in order to satiate those hunger pangs.
-First occurrence: Week 1 of stay
-Frequency of feeling hungry after tapas outings till date: 10

8. Talking to taxi drivers is fun. Particularly in your limited Spanish.
-First occurrence: Hour 1 of Stay
-Frequency of fun conversations till date: 12

9. The sun never sets in Madrid. Not so much literally, but the parties start at 2 am and end at 7 am or even later..(unfortunately I haven't been around to usher in the end of the dancing). Dinner starts at 10 pm. You have 24 hours for everything, except sleeping.
-First Occurrence: Day 1 of stay
-Frequency of late days till date: 70

10. Dogs are everywhere. In streets, in shops, in restaurants. For someone who is petrified of dogs ( although I must admit my neighbors dog Laila has begun to grow on me)that is NOT good news.
-First occurrence: Day 1 of Stay
-Frequency of encounters till date: 88

Notes on Mortality

Commercial Pursuits seem to be in vain really. Mortality being imminent, why on earth do we need to go on and engage in these apparently officious and ostentatious activities that seem to do no-one any good really. Of course, I’m saying assuming everyone engages in commercial pursuits that have the sole objective of enhancing and aiding their hedonistic desires.
Do we need to live life in such a way that we make lives of other people better? Other people who are significantly worse off than we are, and there are a lot of those in this world. Or do we just go about our own lives, trying to achieve the best for us, monetarily, socially, emotionally, spiritually? Of course, if we are to become apostles of the school of thought that says “yes” to question number two, then the normal construct of the society and commerce is adhered to. However when I am inclined to swing to question number one, I feel, that if everyone had the same thought, there would be a total breakdown of the system and of course, that would be really really bad. So I guess, being pragmatic is not ideal if I want to live in the affirmative with respect to question number one.
Having rambled on so far, the lessons to be learnt from the imminent mortality briefly mentioned above, should certainly be highlighted now. The years given to us are finite, but rather than count the number of moments that life gives to us, we need to look at the number of moments we give life to. Hell, do what we must-commerce, charity, travel, …name it. But do it right.
This was so not what I intended to get to when I started writing, but writing is like traveling into the unknown. You know where you start, but you never known where you end. -Amen

The Economics of Being "Nice"

If utopia were something that existed, it would probably be a situation where blogs with titles like these ceased to exist, for people wouldn’t really want an answer to this question. That, however, would not bode too well for me, because then either no one would read this (assuming some readership now) for my writing would be regarded hyperbole and ergo not warrant any flicker of interest. On second thought, utopia would probably deter me from harbouring such ideas in the first place, so the very reason this (this being the words that I am writing now) exists, is the inherent absence of utopia.
At several points in my life I have succumbed to decadent thoughts, those which propel me to wonder-“ Is being ‘nice’ the right strategy?”. I use the word strategy here because I am a fledgling in the world of game theory and having been recently enamoured by Nash Equilibrium, and seduced by the world of strategies and concepts of the like, I feel this propelling urge to appease my narcissistic side. Having managed to successfully drift away from the topic I promised to dive into at the very inception of this endeavour, I think any further procrastination albeit comic relief attempts might warrant a change in the title.
Let us assume that being “nice” or “not nice” are the two strategies that two individuals have.
Let the names of these individuals/players be “ Phelangie” and “Phoebe”

Whereby in (x,y) we have payoffs of Phleangie (x) and Phoebe (y).The payoffs are written so assuming that when a player plays a nice strategy and in turn gets a not nice strategy he gives all the benefit to the player receiving the “nice” behaviour award. Also, when both players choose “not nice” strategies, then the payoff is in negative as the society as a whole also suffers from the absence of “nice” behaviour.
Assuming this is a one shot game and both the players act simultaneously, we can elaborate as follows:
If Phoebe plays nice, Phelangie would chose strategy not nice so as to get a payoff of 20.
If Phoebe plays not nice, Phelangie would play strategy nice to get a pay off of 0.
If Phelangie plays Nice, Phoebe would play strategy Not Nice to get a pay off of 20.
If Phelangie plays Not Nice, Phoebe would play a strategy of nice get a payoff of 0.
We get 2 Nash Equilbriums stating that Phelangie and Phoebe would play the following Strategies:
Phoebe-Nice, Phelangie-Not Nice (20,0)
Phoebe-Not Nice, Phelangie-Nice (0,20)
So economics clearly states that there is NO rationale for people to be nice to each other simultaneously.
Maybe this is what explains when on any given day, a stranger smiles at you, the lady in the bus gives you her seat, your friends bring over flowers when you are feeling unwell, and someone says something nice to you while you have nothing to offer except a frown.
Converse: Stop wondering why others aren’t exhibiting the “nice” behaviour you dish out their way. :P

PS: I am new to this. Corrections are welcome. However, I must warn you, a correction may prompt me to ask you for help with economics homework.

Life in Fast Forward-I

Absence of words in my life make me feel defunct and non-existent, but it’s written words I am talking about and not spoken ones. There is no dearth of conversations out here. The conversations in my head however seem to have been given a horse tranquilizer, after which they were last spotted with a backpack on the periphery of my head, waving goodbyes without much promise of a prompt return. Now that scares me-horse tranquilizer and travel plans don’t seem to be congruous, but then again when did you ever hear about personified thoughts doing inane things?
While I construct these inane sentences, I realize that the past month has been a blur of activity. Perhaps since the day I left New Delhi, I haven’t really had the time to sit down and just be by myself without some task at hand or some conversation to indulge in. As the clouds of the inertia start to dissipate, I realize that the travel to Spain was indeed quite flawless and brought with it some people that I will probably not be able to forget so easily. Not that they were grandiose in their gestures or anything out of the ordinary, but just that they were there at the right time..kind of wizarding* my journey into one that can not be forgotten so easily. I guess I owe a thank you to: the lady at the check in counter, at IGI Airport, New Delhi the genteel male steward aboard the BA flight to London, the gentleman on the seat next to mine, Janet in the BA flight to Madrid and the taxi driver who drove me to my hotel in Madrid.
Travel is a word that engenders mixed feelings among people. By Travel here I am referring to the passage of time in moving from one airport to another. From the euphoric enthusiast to the pessimistic business travelers, the feeling varies like day and night. Airport Travel can be particularly fun, and even a way to be present intensely in the now (Reference: The Power of Now and the New Earth by Eckhart Tolle). Here are a few ideas (picked up from personal experience) to enjoy those dreaded fifteen (ten?) hours or more of travel and transit time:

1. Always be nice to the personnel checking in your luggage, immigration officers and security check officers. Smile, talk, exchange cordial words and some inane information. This makes them happy and will make you happy as well.
2. Always set aside some space in your hand bag so you can store some duty free shopping product in it. While not necessary, duty free shopping is useful in killing the long transit hours in the wee hours of the morning. Even if you buy only a bar of chocolate, the thrill of browsing the aisles in these shops is something that can make the most insipid of journeys a little interesting.
3. Perch yourself on a table in one of the many cafes at the airport with a coffee and a magazine or a book and just observe the people ambling by. It can be quite an engaging experience to try and figure out the nationalities and destinations of people from the way they are dressed.
4. Loading your mp3 player with music containing idyllic lyrics can actually soothe your nerves and perhaps transport you to your destination whilst you are waiting to board the aircraft even.
5. In long haul flights, a mix of books like an engaging paperback novel (I recommend Eat, Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert), collection of poems, and some periodicals can keep you nicely occupied, intermittently with bouts of sleep.
6. Talk. To your co-passengers in the aircraft, the man behind you in the queue, or the friendly kids on the next table. You don’t need to exchange personal information to share a few laughs and conversations and the best part is that there is a mutual understanding that the conversation would truncate at the cessation of the journey or the end of transit. Cute deal that.
7. Try and orient yourself with the airport prior to departure. On arriving at the airport you’d feel like you are trying to piece together a giant jigsaw puzzle when trying to maneuver the ways.


* Wizarding: A word coined mid-conversation by Janet Kagan and myself aboard the British Airways Flight from London to Madrid to denote an infusion of that unquantifiable extra variable into something banal and routine.
Going Further I would like to use the symbol *w to indicate the wizarding variable. This variable would have to be used with different constants depending upon its usage in different contexts. In the Luxury Hospitality Sector for instance *wH can be a measure of how well the Hotel/Resort can enhance the customers experience over and above the expected outcome.

Order/Chaos

The area outside the arrivals terminal at the IGI Airport is a traffic nightmare today with cars strewn across everywhere, and add to that the flurry of passengers who are running late, trying to dodge the cars and the trolleys, an innocent passerby would probably flip at the pandemonium that is probably breaking out before his eyes.

But then again, it’s a sordid dance of sorts, this chaos isn’t it? Order in Chaos some wise men call it, and Delhi is quintessentially that. So it is no surprise when my car manages to bumper-graze another car. It isn’t even worth a frown.

As the driver eases the humble hatchback out on to the road, we are accosted by a recalcitrant man, ordering our driver out of our vehicle. I am shaken from my reverie by the commotion and realize it would be prudent to step out for a reconnaissance. Turns out, the car whose bumper has been so grossly grazed and thus violated, is a BMW. My shiny hatchback looks green with envy inspite of its metallic tinge, but I see some shade of pride too, since it has very conveniently manage to leave it’s mark on the ever so spiffy bimmer.

I stoop low to inspect the damage and see nothing at first glance. I adjust my thick glasses and there in front of me is a scratch all of 1mm staring at me right in the face. The chauffeur of the BMW seems to be in a frenzy of sorts, reiterating the fact that the car is indeed a BMW and his company would not be pleased to know of the damage. A police patrol car pulls in, and two cops step out and continue to lurk in the background. The driver of the hatchback clearly believes in quid pro quo and is on the defensive, rebuffing all accusations being thrown his way and throwing in his own conjured accusations for good measure. I am a little melancholy from the events the day has managed to transpire, and maybe that attenuates my inclination to launch a full-blown offensive. The cops seem to have had a look at the “scratch” and I can see them muster a quite laugh from the corner of my eye-this makes me feel resplendent. I bring up the topic of chaotic Delhi roads and how a car in Delhi cannot operate on the roads until it has bumped at least one car a day-somewhat like a right of passage. Pun intended. I look at the cops, and they seem to be nodding in approval. Bless them I think.

A call to the chauffer’s superior, a quick tête-à-tête, and it seems that I’ve managed to convince him that neither his driver nor mine is to blame. “It’s the chaos sir”, I tell him. And it is.

The story ends with the chauffer thanking me with a toothy grin, me thanking the cops for their patience and laughter and all three parties returning to their vehicles with a sigh of relief, thankful for the order that was ushered in by the chaos.

My not-so-little sugar 'n spice

There is this girl I know
She was so small some years ago,
but she looks bigger than me today.
There is this girl I know…
who makes everyone smile
wherever she goes
she has angels by her side
There is this girl I know...
who fears nothing that comes her away
except the silly mangy dog gone astray
There is this girl I know…
who has dreams in her eyes
her love and her words of compassion
humbles even the aged and wise
There is this girl I know…
who came into my life
one fine morning fifteen years ago
she’s my not-so little sugar ‘n spice!

10 Reasons why I love Delhi...

1. The brilliant night-time driving on the wide well lit roads.
2. The fact that every colony has a shop selling Kathi-rolls, kebabs and momos!
3. How all the shopkeepers from the salesman at Shoppers-Stop to the guy selling kolhapuris(A kind of Indian Slipper) at Central Market to the fruit vendor reply to the call “bhaiyya”( Elder brother).
4. The crazy bollywood masala music on radio which makes you want to dance in the middle of the road.
5. The abundance of key-makers around every corner to ensure easy access to your home/car in the event you lose your precious keys.
6. Riding in cycle rickshaws in the rain in Delhi University.
7. The fact that you can wear a hot red lipstick, flip-flops and a Hawaiian print shirt OR a saree in the middle of the day while shopping and still feel comfortable.
8. You can be half an hour late for a meeting and still be on time.
9. The realization that you can stop your car anywhere on the road anytime you feel like.
10. The long green stretch from Panchsheel Club to Chirag Delhi Flyover.

Karma Quotient

As I my mind dwells on the pages of the books I put down some minutes ago, I realize that my hands might have stopped turning its pages, but its words are still hanging like vapor on a humid day around my head.
It’s a little disconcerting when thoughts collide, not angry, brutal thoughts but just thoughts of existence, death and other things in between. So I have to take a minute here and perhaps come to an amicable solution.
Is it possible that my existing notions of karma being settled in this very lifetime are giving way to the concept of reincarnation of souls? I was always an apostle of the theory of the neutral playing field-whatever goes around comes around, and not in the next lifetime or the lifetime after that, but in this very life itself. But Hindu mythology, and others, particularly the author of the book I’m reading say otherwise. It is over a period of many lives that we settle our debts and make up for our wrongs. It takes time, and we come back again and again until that is fulfilled. So, as we all let out a collective sigh for that lie we told that morning and think it won’t come back to us just yet, I say think again.
Maybe, it is possible for both these thoughts to co-exist, I wonder. We have often heard of some past life encounters sometimes from an old friend whose neighbours aunt started calling out names of her Rajasthani grandparents in a former life, or courtesy the evenings news featuring some child in a rural village in Haryana speaking fluent French. Bhagvad Gita also validates the concept of reincarnation when Lord Krishna tells Arjuna that he would return millennium after millennium to restore order and re-establish principles.

“yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata
abhyutthanam adharmasyatadatmanam srjamy aham
paritranaya sadhunamvinasaya ca duskrtam
dharma-samsthapanarthayasambhavami yuge yuge”

Translation

Whenever and wherever a decline of righteousness and a predominance of unrighteousness prevails; at that time I manifest myself personally, O descendant of Bharata.

Apart from this reference there are several other references in the Gita that directly assert that the soul is eternal and it takes the human form over and over.

“acchedyo'yam adahyo'yam akledya'sosya eva ca
nityah sarva-gatah sthanur acalo'yam sanatanah”

Translation

As a person gives up old and worn out garments and accepts new apparel, similarly the embodied soul giving up old and worn out bodies verily accepts new bodies.

Source: www.bhagvad-gita.org

So, assuming that we do re-incarnate over and over until we achieve a higher learning curve, there has to be something that is applicable to this life as well. I mean c’mon I cant believe we run amock lawless in this life, thinking, hey-it’s A-OK because, I will settle it all in the next life, and even better, I won’t remember any of it! I think, there needs to be a cut off line as to what we can pass on to our next life and what we must settle here in this lifetime. Like you know, a minimum amount due kind of a feature we have in our credit card statements. Those initiated in the ways of plastic money would know what I’m talking about.

So lets say, there should be a dossier somewhere talking about various permissible wrongdoings we can set off in this life, and then those which are carried forward to next life, much like the accumulated depreciation for those familiar with the accounting world. So ideally, ideally we should try and restrict our offences to the Schedule A of the dossier (wrongdoings that can be set off in this lifetime) to ensure a comfortable life in the future. But, then again, comes the question, if we already committed say a Schedule B (wrongdoings that are carried forward to the next lifetime) offence say within the first thirty years of our existence, so one might think that since we anyway have to bear the brunt of that in the next life, we might as well go crazy committing Schedule B offences, right?

So we incorporate some clauses to make this right. For instance there could be a Clause A.1 specifying the number of Schedule B.1 (least offensive) offences that will ensure an increase in future lifetimes. Ex; If an individual indulges/commits “x” activities listed in Schedule B.1, then the number of lives he must appear in to absolve himself/herself (or to write off those activities) will be defined as LnB1= n+x/3, where “n” is the number of the lifetime in which he/she committed/indulged in that lifetime and “LnB1” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.1.

Therefore the increase in lives over this one by virtue of committing a Schedule B.1 offence can be written as:

LB1=LnB1-n ; where “LB1“ is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.1

Similarly we have;
LnB2= n+x/2; where “LnB2” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.2.
LB2= LnB2-n; where LB2 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.2 (moderately offensive)

And;
LnB3= n+x; where “LnB3” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.3.
LB3= LnB3-n where LB3 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.3 (most offensive)

Another clause that is of critical importance is Clause A.2. This would probably have something to with the quality of the future life as determined by the present one. So if an individual curtails his activities to Schedule A, although he will pay for his Schedule A offences in this lifetime, the quality of his future life(s) will proportionately decrease. (Like, even if you pay the minimum amount due on your credit card statement, you’re fine, but you still got to pay the interest on the remaining amount).

So we have Qn+1= Qn. (1/x); where “Qn+1” is the Quality of life in the life following the present life. “Qn” is the Quality of life in the present life and “x” is the number of Schedule A offences committed
.
KQ= {LB1(Qn+1)}+ {LB2(Qn+1)} + {LB3(Qn+1)}; where “KQ” is Karma Quotient by virtue of wrongdoings.

One might wonder, that there should be another element to the Karma Quotient. Which works on the basis of the good one might have done over the period of his/her life. We won’t dwell on that in the section because, by virtue of THAT I’m sure coming back as a rodent in the next life. I’m not ready for that realization yet. So watch this space for Karma Quotient-the sequel.
Considering the way our population is escalating, it would be difficult to work with the above algorithm and expect a fair answer to an individuals Karma quotient. There might need to be a case-by-case study, which might be beyond the comprehension of an artificial intelligence. And then again, the very comprehension of drawing up a Schedule A and B of the dossier will have the best of philosophers stupefied. After all is there a universal right and wrong? Is there a universal truth or lie?
Perhaps, that’s why we have a God.

An Ode to the Compass

The roads are many,
The right ones are few,
This night is good as any
for I have promises to renew

The distance stretches out,
The journey is sparkling new,
I will travel till the end of time,
Even if hurts to say adieu.

Lost are some on roads,
Consumed are some by pain,
Nostalgia is a feisty demon,
Farewell drives many insane

I stand on a dusty corner,
In the distance the mountains call,
I pray for a guide, a direction
Point me to my being, amidst this squall.

Flutter,Flutter.

Maybe it’s the day, and I feel the collective sense of euphoria Indians feel this day, maybe it is the Codeine Phosphate in my system sensitising me to inane stimuli, maybe it is books on past-life therapy that are making me think beyond the usual realms someone’s imagination can run to. Whichever one of these reasons are inspiring me to write this, what is really transpiring is that these kites I see flying in the sky, have me in a symbolic trance of sorts. Life isn’t much different from these paper carved creatures whizzing past each other this evening. A gust of wind lifts them high, a lull heaves them down. A slight ease in the tenacity of the string has them lunging for the earth, a firm pull has them fluttering with a cautious abandon. And then, out of nowhere, come these predatory kites, cut your string, have you plummeting to the ground. You grope around some, pick yourself up, tie another string, and wait, wait for that gust of wind.

10 Steps to International Drivers License acquisition

My love and need for bureaucratic government departments doesn’t seem to die out. It even instills in me this generosity to make available details of the application process on my blog. Now that is some love I’d say.

1.Requirements: Ability to breathe in depleted oxygen levels and a dash of resilience for the sporadic brusqueness that may come your way. Apart from these two pivotal requirements (I say pivotal because their absence can spin your head oh so round) you’d also require a pen, glue, original license, original passport, original visa , photocopies of the before mentioned three documents and 4 passport sized photographs. (it’s actually 3, but in case you find a cute guy/girl lined up behind you, you can inadvertently drop the extra photo with your number written behind it.:) In case you were thinking, if that’s how I meet men, then no you’re wrong. Transport Department has boring crowd. Try the same at the Passport office. ;)

2. Queues are a myth created by mankind but fear not -some gumption goes a long way : The enquiry counter is always the hotspot at places where a lot can go wrong( and it does go wrong). The place in question here, also had one of course with a motley crowd standing around it. My attempts to locate a queue were in vain because there did not seem to be one. So three very kind gentlemen see right through the very opaque looking me and manage to get ahead in the crowd, I realize it’s time to put the next man in place. And put him in place I did. Excerpt from the conversation:

Me: Do you mind Sir? There is a queue here. (No there wasn’t a queue, but I got there first!)
Disgruntled boy: Frowns (in reply)
(Crowd in front of me thins out, and as I head towards the counter…)
Disgruntled boy: (to man behind counter) I’m a tool. I’m a tool. I’m a tool. (Of course he didn’t say that, I don’t really remember now -*malicious grin* )
Me: Aap ko samajh nahin aaya? Queue! (Don’t you get it you doofus, there is a Queue here)
Disgruntled boy: (amidst grunts and snorts) Kya queue? (What queue?)
Me: Push-Nudge-Look defiant. REPEAT.

3. Room 217: The beautiful symphony of application for the international driving permit is conducted from this room. Kind of like the Vatican of the International License application process. Here, you must produce your passport and license, quickly grab on to a form handed out to you to fill and listen to the list of documents required to be submitted (mentioned above in the same post) in sweet rapture.

4. Medical Examination-Fear no more!: Now one of the documents that need to be provided is a medical certificate. Not having had the foresight to have thought of this prior to my decision to embark upon this joyous mission, I realized I’d have to pay a visit to the in house doctor at the transport department building who had a room juxtaposed to room 217. (No, I exaggerate, it was down the hall☺). On indicating my desire to get a medical certificate I was instructed to fill another form. The doctor then proceeded to sign the same and ten minutes and fifty bucks later I had a certificate attesting my good health and happiness.

5. Room 217: See, it all comes back to room 217. You can’t do one thing here without the approval from Room 217. So I was going to do just that.
Me: “Look at my shiny new certificate! What prize do I get for it?”.
ANSWER from Room 217: “ You get to pay the fee and get the hell outta here!”
( Note: This conversation happened ONLY in my head)

6. Paying the fee: Now there was a serpentine queue outside the room you go to deposit the fee. This freaked me out a little bit. Thoughts of self doubt starting crawling down my back, later I realized it was perspiration. A few questions later, I realized that was not the queue I was suppose to be a part of. As it turned out there was no queue for depositing the fee for the international driving permit. So that was pretty darn quick. Five hundred Rupees, does the trick.

7. Room 217: Fill up a booklet (which is going to be your LICENSE btw) and sign your name in a couple of places with a flourish, after presenting the receipt for depositing the fee. You are then told to come back in the afternoon.

8. The return: This happens in the afternoon. Did for me atleast. We are required to hover around Room 217. (Remember-the temple?). A nod beckons us inside, and we are handed the documents and booklets and instructed to go to room 211.

9. Room 211: Not as important as Room 217 as you may have figured. But this room holds the key to cementing the entire process. The holy grail of all of the twenty million signatures that are required on the booklet.

10. Room 217,Yawn: So now, you know you’re almost done. So you have a smile playing at the corners of your lips. You present the documents with an unparalleled confidence. The guy stamps it at a zillion places, and just when you think that there is no surface area left for the green stamp to leave its mark except the wood on the table, the guy looks up with triump. Woohoo! It’s done!

Dissipating winds
Over lands wet,
Wet from the rain
Over prolific thoughts
Of people and places
Dissipating winds
Displacing leaves and faces
~

Life Lessons Over Greek Salad

As the Camarero brought the salad over to my side of the table, I was curious as to taste that it would have to offer. It was no surprise though, when it turned out to be devoid of any mote of salt even. Not to be deterred by the absence of sodium chloride and other flavourful substances, I promptly proceeded to spruce up the multicolored salad (which had guest appearances by feta cheese and green pitted olives) with salt, oregano, olive paste and chili flakes. I intended to make the most of my culinary moment. My gastronomic ambitions can not be crippled so easily I thought to myself, as I instructed the garcon to sprinkle freshly ground black pepper on the revamped salad.
Maybe it was the salad or maybe it was the dim light at the Italian restaurant or the fact that I was eating a Greek salad at an Italian restaurant, either way, I realized in a state of stupor, that little moments in life or hell, life itself, is like a plateful of insipid salad. Agreed, the salad was more edible than some of the grotesque things that comes our way on a daily basis (if you’ve hit a particularly low point) or the one of those dementor like apparitions that confound us once every full moon with the occasional werewolf like demons. But really, those dark ghosts and ghouls aside, life mostly deals us raw vegetables without seasoning.
Now, the first reflex of any individual who unknowingly ordered the insipid salad, who is obviously looking to broaden the horizon of his/her palate, would be to grimace, look around helplessly, crib/complain to fellow diners then settle down deep in the seat with a submissive shrug. Some individuals with particularly resilient and pugnacious genetic material would argue some and get their order replaced with a run of the mill spaghetti arabiatta. Same applies for banal life situations. A boring day, a lonely hour, a particularly hackneyed moment.
What I would advocate is (by virtue of sheer experience-not that I have much of it, but I am writing this so yes, read on), a sincere look around the table. Oft, there are enough spices and condiments to make that moment come about. I sure found the requisite amount to save the Greek salad from the abyss of the garbage dump.

Thoughts of España….and some other nebulous ones thrown in for good measure

A year ago, when I watched Thierry Henry score a splendid goal for FC Barcelona at Camp Nou against Real Valladollid, little did I know that at this time of the year I’d be packing my bags to move to the country of Paella, Flamenco and some kick ass football. Living in France for three odd months I knew I had a special affinity to this part of the world, what with the Café Crème’s, Lemon Meringue’s and leisurely walks around the streets in the ear numbing cold, becoming a daily ritual of sorts. Ofcourse, there were the evenings fraught with loss of dexterity at the impending thought of preparing a meal to feed myself, but I somehow managed to survive courtesy goat cheese pizzas, crazily concocted fajitas, hash browns, baguettes, gouda cheese and Haagen Dazs.
At this point, I am mighty curious as to what life of a doctoral candidate would entail. I can picture myself with thick glasses (thicker than the ones I wear now) bent over Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations or Hofstedes Culture’s Consequences in dim candlelight with a magnifying glass. (I guess my imagination is fueled from some book written in the1800’s). Apart from this mental image from the dark ages, there are the reoccurring thoughts of travel to Prague which have me walking on the Charles Bridge at midnight listening to the Moonlight Sonata as the light from the nearby houses bounces off the sparkling river. As I am lost in this reverie, a part of me brings my thoughts back to Spain.
I am the kind of traveler who loves all things travel. The pre-planning, the planning, the journey, the travel, the wandering, the unpacking. All of it. Even the wait at airport is something I can take in without much grumbling.(No, I am not on Prosaic)So of course, the days leading up to the date I leave for Madrid, are of as much significance as is the actual arrival and the post arrival days.
Visa application, Ticket Booking, accommodation hunting online, opening a bank account, purchasing insurance and several other mundane tasks that ought to be carried out in this phase, make one feel even closer to the destination than they might be in reality. So having visited the Spain Embassy twice now and looked at a thousand apartments virtually, I feel I am already there, living the Spanish life, the Sombreros and the Siestas all included.

Invincible

I never thought to be that person who would grieve the loss of a pop-icon. But here I am dedicating this blog to Michael Jackson-He who rocked my world for some twenty odd years, and will continue to do for many years to come.
Michael and I go a long way back. Somewhere in the early 1990’s someone gifted me the album “Dangerous”. And since that day all the colours were either “black or white“. Even as years progressed dear Michael always managed to figure in my life somehow. Whether it was “Give in to me” as suggested by a very special person at a point of time, or “Stranger in Moscow” downloaded after the very positive recommendation from a friend, MJ has given me music that has given shape to so many of my life memories. The drives on roads along the Mandovi in Panjim, would have been so different without his Grammy nominated “ You are not alone”. I know these words are fraught with nostalgia. But that’s what music does, a familiar tune is enough to push you down those old paths. Music lives on forever.

In the opinion of some cynics, revering Michael Jackson could possibly be a result of the mass adulation wave that rose tsunami like when the news of his death became public. But then, the eternal optimist (recent converted) that I am, I’d have to say, such was his impact on music in the decades gone by. I am not writing this to reiterate the accolades he might have to his name-we have the wikipedias of the world to do the needful on that front.
It has been asserted by some publically , and some even close to me that the death of Michael Jackson is fortuitous in that it leaves the world a safer place for children. Now, I agree allegations and suspicious out of court settlements have marred MJ’s career since the early 1990’s, add to that several rhinoplasties and idiosyncrasies and you have someones life all mangled on the front pages of tabloids worldwide. Michael Jackson was a singer and a great one at that too, the world loves/d his songs and moves, yet somehow when all the media frenzy came to do the rounds, we seemed to promptly forget his forte and decided to focus on all the negativity. I am not saying we ought to condone his misdoings, but amidst all the controversy it is imperative to remember that MJ was an individual, and like so many of us out there, had some flaws. Agreed, being a public figure everything does tend to get completely out of proportion and makes for lucrative headlines. All of us have some dark secret in our lives at some point of time, and it would be highly unpleasant to see it being sold at a few cents a piece on a newsstand. So maybe this once, we can let a great singer rest in peace, and remember him for what his music was: Invincible.

Perro Pathos

I have wanted to write a witty story with the above title for about two years now. It was first intended to be “Perro Pathos-Ek kutte ki dard bhari kahani” (Perro-Pathos-One dogs painful story). I contemplated writing about life from a dogs perspective, having encountered atleast one dog in every campus I have managed to study in or visit over the years. Somehow, the discussions and thoughts never materialized into anything substantial or into a first draft for that matter. I brushed off the feeling of abandoning what could have been a masterpiece of contemporary literature, thinking that perhaps I was meant to be scared of dogs eternally and not make them the protagonists of my Pulitzer Prize winning book.
It is only today after my 1,87,645th encounter with Rocky (christened so) and Silly (Conjured up by yours truly) at my haunt of choice for a quick chat and thirst quencher with the girls, did I realize maybe I am attracting the Rockies, Sillies, Jangos, Mochas, Thirsty-D’s the world because of my bad dog Karma.
Bad Dog Karma, you say?
This theory is essentially two fold. Firstly, my fear of dogs has only become more entrenched over the years and not dissipated as anticipated by me and predicted by some wise men/women. I have often heard that dogs can sense fear and get attracted to dimwits who are unable to mask their fears with a brave face. Some like me are even worse, and start an enchanted supplication process which entails chanting names of God, family, friends and willing them to make the dog vanish, all the while with eyes squeezed shut as a dog innocently approaches.
If this is true, then perhaps I have concluded after much thought, that the dogs approach me over and over trying to get across a message that I ought to let go of this fear. But what fails me is how they manage to coordinate their efforts across the National Capital Region.
The Second line of thought is bordering on the Reincarnation of Souls. I have a strong feeling that I was a very notorious dog in my past life, motivating hoards of dogs to fight a gory war to regain territorial control. And now, just for fun, I’ve been born a human in that very territory the dogs had managed to defeat some hundred years ago. No wonder the dogs in the general area always approach me with vengeance.
Now I don’t really know which theory has more proponents at this point, but I can definitely say this in Spanish: Mi perro es fiero y fuerte. ( My dog is fierce and strong)..and lest you think otherwise, I don’t have a dog. I just like to talk about them.
(Disclaimer: All of the above mentioned dog names are written as heard/concocted by the writer for comic relief purposes ONLY. Any resemblance to humans with similar names is purely coincidental)

The evening was quite luminous
Then the night descended
And changed everything….

The perception, the visage of love
Was distorted and dark
The thoughts transitioned
Dancing their insouciant outlandish dance
Their serpentine caress
Albeit the sagacious charm

Resuscitated soon after though,
The dark attenuated to grey
The chimera abated

It’s a manic world as they say
But somehow it’s just right.

Revolutionizing the Inveterate Systems

As I step into the Patiala house courts grounds for the first time, I am confronted with a bleak reality. Amidst the deplorable state of cleanliness and the general disarray I am forced to face the thought that perhaps we need to awake to the need for a radical change –a radical shift in the functioning of administrative divisions.
Given my newfound optimism in life, I was able to cast a blind eye to the disorder at the passport offices, but a quick trip to the MEA offices for apostillization had me thudding back to reality.
Going with the optimistic tone that I am trying hold here, I will shed only minimalistic radiance on the reasons that compel me to think what I’m thinking.
An average citizen of the country in need for a basic service such as renewal of travel document, flutters to the passport office with much hope having taken the day off from work. He/She hopes he/she has all the documents mandated and progresses at snails pace to the window. Fast forward thirty minutes and he/she has been reprimanded for being in the wrong queue, with the wrong documents and for having created a commotion. The hopeful innocence has trickled down his/her forehead by now and all that is left are fractious fragments of doom.
Another dampner for the complete novitiate could be a sense of complete disillusionment upon arrival. With forms in tow and faith in his/her heart the fledgling arrives promptly at 9 am and looks around for a friendly face and sees none. If he/she could just ask someone -where to go and what to do? So without a scintilla of doubt that his/her resilience would pay off, he/she strides purposefully toward the mass of crowd that looks like a queue. Come, 10 am and our novitiate is standing in a corner sipping water, letting the five varied answers he got from the crowd do their own sordid dance in his/her head.
It would suffice to say that given the rapid development we are observing today in infrastructure (Cometh Commonwealth Games 2010) and other corporate miracles being witnessed everywhere, it is excruciatingly important that the administrative departments progress proportionately if not in tandem.
Perhaps it is time we develop Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) and Model Business Processes (MBPs) for these wings of the government. It would be interesting to wonder how this might be conceptualized. To begin with the Government can hire consulting firms to study the AS-IS processes of various departments involving interface with the general populace. Followed by which they can carry out a gap analysis and come up with a model process which would expedite the functioning of the department at the same time enhance customer satisfaction (After all we are paying taxes and a fee for the service!). Development of standardized practices all across would result in readily available information at various portals to the citizens of the country to prevent redundancies and omissions, which in turn further enhance the functioning of the departments.
A simplistic illustration; If there are large displays indicating the process of acquiring a new travel document detailing layouts, instructions and lead time, the time devoted to answer incessant questions at application windows could be avoided. Also, we observe that token numbers are distributed to applicants for which they are required to queue up hours before the counter opens up. Now, would it not be easier to install token dispensing machines and utilizing the excess manpower on other domains such as enquiry counter, extra form verification counters, helpdesks?
I would be wrong to say that things have not improved at all over the years-they have indeed. But if we are to say that we are fortified and liberal in our existence as a nation we must replace the hackneyed ways with a professional optimism.

13 Thoughts for the day

1. What goes around comes around. It's all Karma.

2. Mangoes taste sweeter than they did ever before. Is it me or is it them?

3. Cracking up in a murder mystery where the protagonist is going through a sombre phase , is something that needs to be given a try. Thrice.

4. Body Shop should have a sign saying "Mudra not allowed inside".

5. Bollocks to the literal interpretation of "Corgito, Ergo Sum"

6. Assam tea tastes brilliant even at 41 degrees.

7. God bless the empathetic officials at the collection counter at Passport Office.

8. The Bertlitz Spain guide is waiting to be devoured.

9. Life is now adorned by 4 new books I can't wait to get my eyes into.

10. Playing chauffeur to '' Betty Crocker -gone-berserk' and 'Whacko-laughing/maniac-movie-watcher' is quite fun!

11. Wearing a kurta(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurta) invites less leching on the roads.

12. You can't resist what IS.

13. 'Coming Back to life' is the new anthem.

The day ends, the journey concludes

My heart still beats with the myriad hues

My mind dwells in memories past

The friends that were, the friends that are

The night descends, with promises in pockets

I wander a little, my thoughts astray

The questions slowly give way to calm

My walk is not aimless, my steps are firm

The journey untold has just begun.

10 Travel Faux Pas

1. Requesting the ground staff to give you a 'nice' seat, attempting to explain the word 'nice' by contrasting it with the few lecherous inhabitants of my city,particularly like the one in front of me in the check in queue, only turning up in the aircraft to find out that you are sitting next to the very definition of 'not-nice' spilling onto the next seat, but who turns out to be quite harmless in the end.

2. Wearing slim fit jeans so that someone who can ordinarily sit quite comfortably in the most uncomfortable seat in the history of all uncomfortable seats EVER, has to squirm and fidget every five nano seconds.

3. Traveling without a perfume strung below your nose to ward away drafts of fart smell from a co-passenger.

4. Looking forward to an airplane meal only to discover that the meal was just a good looking substance perhaps a hybrid of stones and sawdust.

5. Stuffing twenty books in your backpack to make your suitcase lighter only to realize the precious worth of your fragile vertebrate.

6. Not wearing socks and having your feet break off from your body once frozen, when the aircraft crew thought it would be prudent to simulate arctic temperatures.

7. Waiting out the queues while boarding and feeling witty only to realize that the overhead compartments are all full leaving you looking perplexed and burdened.

8. Writing THIS when the plane is about to land and being told to bugger off with the diary and pen however only a tad more politely.( They can't expect me to jump off now, lets get real)

9. Using the washroom right after someone has spent an enlightening hour clearing their bowel.

10. Spending the entire five hours of the flight whiling away precious night hours with silly activities like day dreaming.

If I were born in Delhi again, I'd like to be a man please, Here is why: ( Yes, I believe I just went a step down on the Women’s lib)

1. I would be able get drunk at a bar all by myself without harboring tortuous thoughts of sordid and lecherous men coming my way to beat me up and/or pass lewd remarks.

2. I would be able to drive at 1 am at night with the windows rolled down-enjoying the tranquility of the night, and appreciating the width of the roads without having to worry about heart palpitations at the sight of a car nearing mine.

3. I would be able wear shorts in the sweltering heat without thinking 49 times about the repercussions of that minuscule decision.

4. I would be able to take a walk at leisure without having to look behind my back.

5. I would be able to stop the car and relieve myself on the road. (Not really sure if I’d do that though, but it makes for a valid argument)

6. I would be able date ten people at the same time and still be the epitome of morality.

7. I would be able to go to Nehru Place feeling non-descript even if I looked like Hugh Jackman.

8. I would actually be able to act on capricious cravings for chocolate-chip ice cream at 2 am.

9. I would be able travel in DTC at 10 pm and befriend the listless conductor.

10. I would be able to embark on a sightseeing adventure to parts of old Delhi with just a camera in tow.

What's Your Story?

If I ask you today, ‘what is you story?’ Your answer would probably be a nonchalant shrug followed by a hackneyed “the usual”. If you ask me the same question I’d say the same albeit semantic differences. Now let’s dig deeper…is that really true?

Everyone has a grand plan, a blueprint of sorts. Some make one for themselves; some have it partly drafted for them…by life. And all through we try to ensure that we live according to those charted out plans. Illustration#1 to prove point: Finish School-College of Choice-Work/Another Degree-Marriage-Kids-Work-Blah-Blah. And then that becomes our story.

But is that really our story?

Whatever billions of people humanity has managed to produced, it has taken pride in compartmentalizing each of those billions into these rigid silos. As time progresses, the number of silos will start to dwindle until an age dawns (in the near 3020) when there’d be just two classifications: the follower and the nonconformist.
Coming back to the NOW, I can assertively state that all our efforts are directed towards following that path which is generally prone to fewer deviances from the Model Societal Path 2000 henceforth referred to as MSP-2000. Now that’s brilliant really because it offers tremendous succor. But is that really the way God intended it? Billions of creatures called human, and one MSP -2000? Now that can’t be right. Maybe there is something awry and vapid about our orientation then.
For those on bordering on peripheral agnosticism and atheism the above thoughts might be incomprehensible, however as the history of disclaimers go, this is just my thought and totally subject to belief. ()

Test#1 Ask a complete stranger what he/she does. In most cases we would be told of academic/professional pursuits. (In case of non availability of those: entrepreneurial/prospective pursuits would be elucidated).
Thought#1 Are we letting the definitions we created to spell out our lives, define us? Is the MSP-2000 creeping into our souls and fettering our spirits?

The way each one of us is fine tuned, genetically and spiritually, is inherently different. If we realize that, then how that is we don’t realize that our lives our not defined by the acts we undertake or the decisions we make to ensure sustenance. Yet, it is these life choices that have been established as the benchmark for introduction, evaluations and my least favorite: judgments.
Each experience for every individual is unique. A music concert attended by thousands would engender different memories and thoughts even though the stimulus is the same. That is something so fundamentally beautiful about life. Our experiences form perceptions which get intermingled with our thoughts which in turn give birth to new experiences. And that is what defines us.
We might all have come with pre-downloaded MSP-2000, but our experiences change every instant. We may have just one life to live it, but there is never one story.

Joie De Vivre-Making the Most of Ill Health

Being under the weather gives one a lot of time to think. In between naps that stretch through the day, and vile medicines, throw in some rumination for good measure. It's fascinating really, the realms the head can traverse when it’s supposedly on a "time out".
Amidst capricious thoughts of launching a career as a waitress in some roadside cafe in Antibes, my mind assaults the stomach with cravings for all sorts of food which are indeed prohibited on the other side of good health. Alas! The book I am reading with its graphic narratives of truffles, Bresse Chicken and Burgundies, is like an anathema, but only till the time I reach the chapter on gelatinous snails. Now THAT I can pass.
Another observations that dawns in my clogged up head for want of gastronomic delights, is that how television has nothing good to offer when you actually do have the luxury and liberty of devoting more than ten minutes to mind numbing movie marathons.
As I convince my self to watch the fifty eighth rerun of that movie which I already saw twice post my resolve to not watch it in the first place, I realize that the aroma of tea offers much comfort to me even as the decadence that has been brought about by excessive medication and rest refuses to let up.
I browse through the pages of a glossy magazine promising to reveal all on the haute couture of the working wardrobe. It is exciting this promise, I must admit. I feel like a dilettante in this world of fashion and accessories to be honest, and it’s valid to tell you the truth. I really can’t afford that Lambskin Chanel worth thirty thousand rupees.
Last of all I’d like to thank the inventors of muffins. They have been the best of friend in these trying times. The kind of best friend you eat though.

Metamorphosis

Permanence is an illusion which confounds us. And then, there is this eternal question of what is change really? Definitions can be half as warped as us. There is change inherent even in redundancies and repetitions. We change, time changes, how can repetition be repetition if the parameters which characteristically defined the occurrence of that instant have changed? The possessions we accumulate, the relationships which we engender, the people we encounter, the places we visit-all of it is transient. Why is that we develop such inveterate bonds with some things (I use the word things loosely, it can refer to humans as well) while with respect to some others we live in a state of oblivion or even a self constructed cocoon? We submit to winds of destiny when we are confronted with transmutation in mundane matters. Alternate driving paths are chosen without the slightest feeling of loss; a new seating arrangement is embraced with a servile undertaking, even a change in day is ushered in with a complete disregard for the one which went by. Perhaps we have made ourselves this way, carefully selecting a set of things towards which we will remain ossified. Is it self defense? I say it is hypocrisy. Embrace change pervasively. Feel a sense of loss when the road is blocked, it was the one that carried you home everyday. Say goodbye to that chair and bid a doleful goodbye to the day. Or if that’s too much - embrace permanence. Try anyway.