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Ganesh versus the Third Reich (Nazis)

b2b_gvtr01eif2014Adolf Hitler, Lord Ganesh and a cast of intellectually challenged people trying to put together a play is the plot of the play.

Ganesh versus the Third Reich was the first play I went last week to see at the Basel theatre. Firstly it was surprising they were playing an English play in Basel. But I am a fan of theatre artists and thus had to go and watch. This isn‘t a review as I am not good at it and thus never tried, what I will try to do is narrate my experience.

There were two main factors why I was interested to go and watch the play. Ganesh versus the Third Reich is a 100 minute skit by a learning-disabled ensemble produced by Back to Back theatre group.

The play revolves around two narratives to address a major question „who has the right to tell a story and who has the right to be heard.”

The first narrative is that of a director who wants to direct a play on Lord Ganesh with a cast of disabled actors. The stage opens with bare minimum props and a group of actors who are trying to enact a story.

Source: Google images

The second narrative is interwoven with first and an interesting shot in 1943 when Adolf Hitler has stolen the Swastika a symbol of wellbeing and balance. Lord Shiva is enraged and vows to end the universe, that is when goddess Parvati (wife of Lord Shiva) and mother of Lord Ganesh demands her son Ganesh to go to Germany and reclaim the Swastika to calm Lord Shiva.

While this narrative of Lord Ganesh’s resolve to get the swastika back is enacted, the cast keeps interrupting the play and and switching to first narrative of improvising the backstage rehearsals.

Ganesh versus the third reichCertain scenes from narrative one are uncomfortable and pose serious questions be it when a bolshie actor called Scott Price is questioning his co-star’s Mark’s mental capacity. “You’ve got the mind of a goldfish,” Scott challenges Mark Deans, the non-communicative character in the cast. “Do you?” the David Woods (the only abled cast member), the director joins in. “Do you have the mind of a goldfish?” Mark silences for long thinking for an answer.

This scene tries to point to the Nazi’s mass extermination programme T4 for disabled people where they killed people with deformity. The director David Woods (narrative one) also plays Dr. Josef Mengele in narrative two who was a known Doctor in the Nazi regime and is seen walking on the stage an SS uniform, shouting about his passion for “the abnormal be it  birth defects, dwarfs, mongoloids or some degenerative conditions”.

The constantly drop out of character to question their right of telling the story specially when none of them are Hindu or Jewish.

GANESH VS THE THIRD REICH photo BUSBY_262The play is intelligently crafted trying to bring up subtle questions aloud. These scenes are kept simple but beautifully designed – they used shadow-play-style backdrops are used and  pulled on and off transparent curtains; to show Swiss alps moving past the train, and the moonless night sky of Berlin.

Startling images … Brian Tilley and Simon Laherty in Ganesh Versus the Third Reich at the EdinburghOn the way Lord Ganesh meets a feeble man from a concentration camp who narrates his story of how Hitler killed his family the sisters because they were too young and the others who were too old.

I found the climax point of the play when the director shocks into a direct address to the audience, challenging various levels of involvement, whether sympathetic, ashamed, demeaning – or simply accepting, finally  identifying the audience as the potential enemy.

Lord Ganesh reclaims the Swastika in narrative two and Hitler is seen walking away and the director coming forth, trying to convey the evil does not end.

All in all a brilliant play as i feel that every individual will have his own perspective and take on the questions posed be it right to perform or the abled and strong always oppress others. It is poignant, thought provoking and has a lasting impact on the audience.

Image Source: Google Images

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Sharmaji gets Stylish.

 
„Hold the mirror up on the right side Loveleen, I can’t see a thing.” Sharmaji said irritatingly.
“Oh ho, I really don’t understand this ritual of yours every month.” Said Loveleen frustrated.
“Cutting ones hair is a bad thing right?” Sharmaji quizzed.
“No, it isn’t. But trying to save 25 rupees and doing it at home is the issue. And be very careful the scissor is razer sharp.”
“Ok, ok I get that, now will you hold the mirror right so that I can manage the cut well.”
Loveleen kept holding the mirror as Sharmaji adjusted his face looking closely at the mirror in from of him and getting a rear view of his hair as Loveleen held the one behind him.
He was about to get a measure and cut when Loveleen shouted, “Ohhhhhh nooooooo, my dal, its burning….the cooker.” She dashed the mirror on the washbasin and ran to the kitchen.
Sharmaji gave an angry look, “I don’t understand her at all”, and he told himself nodding his head.
He picked up the mirror in one hand and tried to get a look of his locks above his nape and continued.
“OH MY GOD, Loveleen.” He cried out in terror.
Loveleen came back running and so did his younger daughter Gutti.
Loveleen shrieked, “Sharmaji, what have you done?” Gutti tried hard but could not contain her laughter. She immediately picked her phone and clicked him and sent it to her elder sister Pinky on whatapp with a caption, Dad spotted in a new look LOL and two winky smilees.”
“Is it all gone?” Sharmaji was now tensed.
Loveleen held his face examining his hair, “No, a big chunk of it till I can see your skull, hmmmm may be the size of a motichoor laddoo.”
Sharmaji started sweating as he tried feeling the portion of his head where he accidentally grazed a major chunk of his hair.
“You can’t do that with scissors, what did you do?”
“Well, you see this!” He picked up the automatic razor and displayed it to them, the girls had given me on my birthday to get rid of my nose, ears and chest hair….I used that thinking it would be quicker than the scissors, I didn’t in my dream think, it would do this.”
By this time Gutti had run into her room and was literally rolling on the floor with laughter.
“What do we do now Loveleen? Sharmaji moved his head from left to right to get a stock of the damage done.
“Do you want to consider getting rid of it all completely?
“You mean bald…”
“You already have a receding hairline, try it.”
“What try it, my father and your father in law is still alive ok, don’t you ever say try it…”He said utterly frustrated at this suggestion.
Gutti ran to the scene again, trying to maintain a serious face but burst out again as she saw him. Loveleen looked at her with big eyes and she stopped, gulping her chuckle uttered, “Dad I think, Di is not going to like it, I mean it’s her Arangetram (*it is a public graduation performance for a dance form) tomorrow. And you would be called on stage too! You know what I mean?” She somehow managed saying that without laughing.
“How about wearing a wig?” She continued trying to sound serious.
Sharmaji and Loveleen looked at her startled. “His hair is still there, not gone, it’s just the rear right which is bald…well not bald but…” She stopped realizing the panic Sharmaji was in. Sharmaji had just  stabilized and was accepting the fact of what had happened.
All three stood looking at each other in the bathroom. “Isn’t it stuffy here.” Gutti said breaking the silence, “Can we at least move out of this place.” Gutti said walking slowly out of the bathroom. Loveleen and Sharmaji followed.
Just then Pinky rushed in, dropped her bag near the door and “Dad, what did you do? I mean it’s my function tomorrow. I have been waiting so long for this day.” She immediately stopped looking at Sharmaji’s embarrassed face.
He turned back to display his doing to Pinky. It was now feeling like what a model feels on the ramp when there is a wardrobe malfunction. Pinky’s jaw dropped at the faux pas she was witnessing. She could visualize her friends mocking and laughing at her.
Half an hour into the drama and things were sinking in. Great ideas came up.
How about putting in some fake hair and sticking it there? – Pinky
Can we just take some brush bristles and cover the big patch? – of course Gutti
The Dhony look, it’s in vogue! – Pinky, trying to make his father look cool and mod.
A cap or a hat, you like Dev Anand, isn’t it, but would that cover the required? – puzzled Loveleen.
Sharmaji closed his eyes and sat there on the sofa. With renewed determination he got up like a soldier who has made up his mind to win the battle or like the way Archimedes would have said “Eureka!”
He went into the bathroom and locked himself for 1.5 hours. The girls roamed up and down in the living room trying to guard their neighbor Leena coming home and Loveleen knocked the door sometimes concerned and sometimes giving a pep talk. Later all were quiet and got back to their chores.
Sharmaji walked confidently to the living room, his demeanor was different. He had colored his hair all black after 10 years. He wore the shirt, trouser and blazer that he was to wear for the function and the biggest change was he rolled a woolen scarf that matched the blazer, hit the patch successfully and overall looked splendid.
There was pin drop silence, he looked at all three of them, finally his confidence was giving in and nervously he said, “What, not ok?”
All three unanimously said, “Sharmaji, you look awesome and so young. Love you.” As all three hugged him altogether.
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Cubicle life – Dawn of occupational burnout.



Office Space – Did that ring any bell?

For those who are a part of the office space fan club will relate to this instantly.

Bill Lumbergh: Hello, Peter. What’s happening? Uh…we have sort of a problem here. Yeah.You apparently didn’t put one of the new coversheets on your TPS reports.
 

Peter Gibbons: Oh, yeah. I’m sorry about that. I, I forgot.
 

Bill Lumbergh: Mmmm…yeah. You see, we’re putting the coversheets on all TPS reports now before they go out. Did you see the memo about this?
 

Peter Gibbons: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I have the memo right here. I just uh…forgot. But, uh, it’s not shipping out till tomorrow, so there’s no problem.
 

Bill Lumbergh: Yeah. If you could just go ahead and make sure you do that from now on, that will be great. And uh, I’ll go ahead and make sure you get another copy of that memo. Mmmkay? Bye bye, Peter.
 

Peter Gibbons: No, I…I have the memo. I’ve got it. It’s right…

 [Lumbergh isn’t listening and walks away from Peter’s cubicle]

OR

Samir: No one in this country can ever pronounce my name right. It’s…it’s not that hard. Na-ghee-na-na-jar. Nagheenanajar.

Michael Bolton:Yeah, well, at least your name isn’t Michael Bolton.

 Samir: You know, there’s nothing wrong with that name.

 Michael Bolton:There was nothing wrong with it, until I was about twelve years old and that no-talent ass clown became famous and started winning Grammys.

Samir:Hmm…well, why don’t you just uh…go by Mike instead of Michael?

 Michael Bolton:No way! Why should I change? He’s the one who sucks.

It’s a 1999 comedy for those who get up in the morning and rush to work, sit in the confines of a cubicle for 9 hours and do it all over again the next day. Life in the office couldn’t be depicted more accurately than in this terrific satire. The characters, story and dialogue are very sharp and wickedly humorous. If you hate your job and want to feel a little better about it then this movie is for you.

 

For those who haven’t seen it, here is a short glimpse of the movie!

 



 

I have seen the movie more than the number of fingers in my hand. What I think the bigger picture is occupational burn out. Now that was a mouthful isn’t it. Like I have been working for 10 years without a break and going strong (at least till now).

So what is occupational burnout? My ex-boss always said, “Shweta, the day you get up in the morning and don’t feel like going to work, it’s time to give up.” I once very proudly passed this gyan to my brother and he said, “I feel it every day.” I shut after that.

Occupational or job burnout is characterized by exhaustion, lack of enthusiasm and motivation, feeling ‘drained’, and also may have the dimension of frustration and/or negative emotions and cynical behaviour, and as a result reduced professional efficacy within the workplace.

Why not take a short test to see if we suffer from a job burnout?  


Results

Now if you landed in 15-18, am sure you are enjoying your life. Anything above this is my Gurumantra
 
Get some METIME: When I say metime, it does not include family and friends. It’s your personal time where you can enjoy what YOU like doing. It could be reading, walking, music or just sitting and meditating.
Take a holiday: May be you have not taken a break, pack you bag take sometime off. Go away from the normal work life and come back refreshed.
Meet Friends: No put that phone down, I didn’t mean WhatsApp, I mean real people over coffee.Call them fix sometime.
No THINK TIME: Make it a habit to have some time off where you don’t think especially of work. Just cut off from the buzz, switch your phone off (too much, silent it then). Give your mind some break.
Change: Yes may be you have got in a comfort zone and need something more exciting. Think of change of role in same organisation or elsewhere.
 
None of the above works….oh “Ab sirf bhagwaan aur dua kaam aa sakti hai” (Only God and prayers can help you).

 
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Sharmaji ka Happy Birthday!

„Hello Madam “Sharmaji yelled, looking up from his balcony at the flat above. “You, madam, yellow sari. Stop drying your clothes here, all water drops on my plants. My coriander has died twice.” He tried looking up again when a splash of water fell on his face along with the blouse that rested straight on his spectacles.

“Aye, uncle, whom are you calling yellow sari. If I don’t dry my clothes in balcony where do I?” Leena stretched her vocals to reach Sharma’s ears.

Loveleen ran to the balcony and pushed Sharmaji, “Arre Leenaji, please do dry your clothes and don’t mind what Sharmaji just said.”

She held him by his arm and as he moved the piece of cloth and tried cleaning the lens “Don’t you realise she gives us curd, sugar when we run out of it, I have few friends don’t you get cross at her.”

Sharmaji got busy reading the maintenance bill dated 25thJuly, 2014 (today) adjusting his spectacles not heeding to any of what his wife said.

Meet Vinod Sharma, 44 year old, sorry 43 years, 11 months and 29 days old insurance agent with State bank of India.  He stays in a 1 BHK house in Dadar with his wife Loveleen (38) and 2 daughters Pinky (16) and Gutti (12).

“Oh that Tiwari has again charged me interest on maintenance; I will show him now and teach him what he has not learnt in his MBA.” He murmured frustrated wearing his shirt.

“Sharmaji, don’t wear the shirt out and comb your hair before going. No doubt people call me your eldest daughter. Do get your medical report before coming.”

Sharmaji opened the door “I will get that tomorrow, Loveleen” and Pinky barged in, “Hi dad.”

“Call me papa.” He muttered still engrossed reading the bill walking out.

“Mom, we will have a surprise party for dad’s birthday day after. My friend, Joe has started a DJ and catering service. I have promised him to be his first good luck customer.” Pinky exclaimed in a typical teenager tone.

“Do what you like, we have a budget of Rs. 2000 including gift. You have to manage in that.” Loveleen warned.

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

“Hello, myself Vinod Sharma, have my reports arrived?” Sharmaji enquired at the hospital.

“Gupte, get me Sharma’s report, put on today’s date, 26thJuly; 2014” retorted the plump lab assistant of DR. Shroff.  Gupte, a 68 year old admin found Sharmaji’s report among the lot that was stacked and handed it to the assistant.

“Take the report and wait for the doctor, he wants to meet you.” She directed Sharmaji.

Sharmaji sat on the posh leather sofa thinking these hospitals are no less than a 5 star hotels. He looked at the semi-nude paintings from a renowned painter what they these days call as investments. The 3 Sony LEDs played different channels as people in the waiting room got glued to each of them. The audience was clear, the 50 plus to the screen playing news, the women on the daily soap operas and the youngsters which had a B grade hero moving his booty to a C grade song, which after putting on spectacles read TOOH, whatever it meant.

“Vinod Sharma, third cabin from left.” the lab assistant called out.

“Sharmaji, do you have a very hectic life, are you too stressed?” Dr. Shroff was a leading Oncologist in town. Sharmaji has a family history of cancer and thus had a norm of getting a yearly regular check-up.

“No, why doctor.I mean who doesn’t these days.” Sharmaji asked puzzled.

“See it happens, life these days is stressful and there are treatments for everything.” said the doctor patiently.

“Doctor, what are you talking about? What has happened to me? Be clear before my heart pops out of my body.” Sharmaji said nervously fidgeting with his shirt corner.

“Ok, you have a rare cancer; it is grade III and stage III. Not much can be done but treatment and hope.”

Sharmaji could not believe what he had just heard. There was no point in doubting the doctor. The drudgeries of life had made him restless, anxious and to an extent pessimist.

“How much time do I have, doctor?” The typical filmy question, as he wiped the sweat of his brow and tears that had welled up under his glasses.

“4-6 months, with treatment we can delay it, don’t you worry.” Doctor placed his hand on Sharmaji’s trying to give hope.

“I am a dying man, what difference does it make 6 months or a year” Sharmaji stood up dejected, picked up his report and turned to leave.

He kept reading the report  which made no sense to him listening to zindagi kaisi hai paheli haaye that played the autorickshaw…..thinking of his investments and insurance policy that he can leave for his family.

Sharma reached home, did not eat lunch and had a few morsels for dinner. He started looking more ill than he felt. His voice mellowed with every response to his family. He kissed his daughters again and again.

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

“How many times have I told you, do not watch movies early morning?” He yelled at Gutti.

“Dad, it’s not morning, its 10 am and its 27th July, 2014, a Sunday!” She energetically said.

Brought back to reality, Sharma opened his diary (he decided to keep one since he left the doctors) and marked the day in tally mark III, “yes beta, Please watch, by the way what movie are you watching.” He said in the softest tone his daughter had ever heard.

“Eh?” she said surprised at his tone. “Dasvidaniya, meaning goodbye, the best part is the hero puts on the list of ten things to be done before death.” She replies her eyes glued to the TV.

“Oh, who can relate it more than me?” He whispered to himself, thinking no one remembers his birthday.. Well good for them, they will get over my loss soon, thinking to himself.

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

Sharmaji had slept more in the last three days than he had in the entire month. After all he was suffering from a fatal disease and had only some time left. He got up from his bed at 7.00 pm and walked to the living room.

“Happpppyyyy Birthday Dad!!!!¨” cheered Pinky among all the relatives and friends.

“Call me pa….You can call me dad” he said with a half-smile as people surrounded to wish him.

He was overwhelmed, nervous, and sad but had thought of keeping all happy for whatever of him was left.

Relatives made merry, talked to him and his answers got even more philosophical.

The DJ blew the speakers as his daughters and friends danced to TOOH. Loveleen served starters as Sharmaji sat at the table looking at the burning candles on the cake.

“Sharmaji, I am extremely sorry, I will not dry my clothes in the balcony now and you can eat your coriander.” Leena chuckled.

“Your clothes have more life than I do, I am a dying coriander.” said Sharmaji.

“Oh you are a humorous man.” Leena replied.

What a dying man has but humor, Sharma thought to himself when Loveleen gestured him to attend a phone call for him.  

He picked up with a more than sad “Hello, myself Vinod Sharma.”

“Sharmaji, I am lab assistant from Dr. Shroff’s hospital, I am really sorry the report you have is of another patient. Your reports are normal and you have no cancer. Our admin, Gupte, not being good at computers, typed the wrong name and mixed it. We are really sorry. Please forgive this. You have no disease.” The line cut abruptly.

Sharma could not believe what he has just heard. On one hand he was angry at the so called high class hospitals but the happiness exceeded his anger, he ran to the room like a guy in his 20’s and shouted out of happiness. He relished the starters and the cake, joked and lightly flirted with Leena and even danced to TOOH. However Vinod Sharma being him, did not forget to ask the DJ how much had his daughters blew cash on his birthday.

 
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Comedy is tragedy plus time!

I wanted to write a follow up on the last blogas it was in two parts, however a specific mail made me try my hand at something humorous. My rare try at it. On second thoughts the mailer was right with so much of tension and betrayal around one would want to come home and read something light. So here’s a shot at it, am too serious to take it up as a permanent theme but all I can say is ‘this time you got lucky!’

I got up as fresh as a daisy; I hadn’t felt so delicate before. It was an important day; a big day thus had slept early last night. I had to leave early and reach well in time not to miss the flight to Delhi. The time to reach the airport was far more than the inflight time! Irony of the ‘infrastructure development’ in my country!

I got dressed quickly and slipped into my favourite trousers. The minute I zipped it the button went flying and hit the floor. For more than a minute I just kept staring at the fallen button and cursed my luck at that. I didn’t have time to stitch it in time. I pulled an old one, the one that hung in my wardrobe in the set of clothes you buy without a reason and have been categorised as ‘untouchables’.

I slipped into it, well trust me it just sounds cool saying slipped. I had to struggle, pull it on both sides and wrestle hard to button it. I had a quick look at the mirror to see the most button popping, zipper ripping, and seam splitting trousers I had ever seen. I quickly gulped my juice, picked my bag and left after bowing quickly to the Tirupathi Balaji idol.

The juice starts working on me almost 20 minutes after I drink it. I felt the urge but stopped it, I wasn’t even half way and there was no way I could take a break. I sat still with all the weight I could put on my butt to stop it. At the same time was scared to put pressure that the seams of the trouser fall apart. Signal after signal was testing my patience. I pulled open my purse to check if I had taken my tickets, yes I had neatly tucked it in my passport. Well somethings are in order I thought to myself when I realised I had forgotten my phone at home. ‘Gosh! Common….I looked at the Ganesh idol on the cab dashboard and the dangling Hanuman holding a mountain over the mirror.’ I just couldn’t believe this was happening. The only thing I could afford was make a sick face and look at God.

By the time we reached the airport, my kidneys along with intestines were on the verge of bursting. Pressing my legs hard together I got down. Got my bags off and started to walk. ‘Edhu kamiya iruku!’ shouted the cab driver. I looked startled at him and first looked all over myself to see if my trousers were in place. ‘What?’ I retorted. ‘edu pathadu?’ he went again. ‘Dude I am in no mood for language translation.’ I actually said it. He went even louder in the south Indian language and even more animated. I realised through his gestures what he hinted at. I trusted the note in his hand and walked off thinking why don’t people understand emergencies.

I was late for the flight, no matter how much I try…it always happens to me. I looked at the snakelike queue for collecting the boarding pass and an equally long queue for security check-in. ‘Today is not my day!’ I looked at the Sai baba keychain hanging on the guy’s bag ahead of me – thinking why me? ‘Any Delhi passengers in the queue please come forward.’ I heard an angel’s voice.

Now I could bypass the queue and go to the rest room after security check, I wondered. I collected my boarding pass in a jiffy and walked to the security check, I walked straight nudging people and ignoring the horrendous stares I was getting. I pushed myself, removed my laptop placed it in the tray and walked to get checked, my eyes glued to the restroom. The boarding pass got stamped and while handing it over, she dropped it. I gave her the look that I would kill her for this sin. If I bend the seams fall apart and I didn’t want to challenge my bursting kidneys. She picked it up and said sorry. Not all is bad…I looked at the Durga ma pendant she was wearing under her shirt.

I collected my bag and rushed to the toilet and sat on the seat….’Ah….what a relief! This is heavenly, on second thoughts it isn’t!’ I sat feeling relieved looking at the mosaic flooring. I looked at the watch and then pulled the toilet paper. A small piece of paper came to my hand and the empty roll rolled on the stand mocking at me. I looked around but couldn’t find anything. This was not happening. I reached out for my bag and looked in for tissues, there weren’t any. I got up and quietly opened the door; I could see the stack of paper just across the door. I will quickly go grab the roll and get in again, I thought to myself. I sneaked out with my trousers half rolled down and rushed to the roll. I grabbed it and turned to see a long queue of women of all age, shape and sizes looking baffled at me. I didn’t bother much and rushed in. I could hear the laughter, the giggles, the lol’s and rofl’s of the world. Not looking eye in eye, embarrassed from head to toe, I washed my hands and rushed out as if no one around me existed. My name had been announced twice, the next thing I remember was the flight attendant telling me to fasten my belt as we were going to touch down. I slept like a log and was now hungry like a dog…sorry bitch, the rhyme sounded better.

Now no more, I was in time for the meeting and nothing could go wrong now. I sat there looking at the plush office and the pretty paintings hanging all over. That’s a new investment trend! The plump receptionist looked at me and pointed towards the cabin. After the pleasantries the client said lets have the presentation. I braced myself and confidently picked up my strolley, I opened it to get my laptop out. My eyes popped out not to find anything in the bag. How could it be, I had packed it after reviewing the slides last night. My palms got sweaty, body went cold and I could see stars in front of my eyes. I should be given a premium membership and a platinum award at http://www.fmylife.com/. I looked at my client and I could see his face getting elongated and his voice distorted and distant. I came to reality when he shook me, ‘huh!’.  He placed his phone on the table and I looked at the Sri Ram wallpaper and just nodded in dejection. Just in time I remembered emailing him a copy last night. It saved my day!

 The next thing I remember was me in bed, just opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling wondering was it real or a surreal dream. Well who cares as I got up feeling fresh as a daisy; it was an important and big day!

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Tactical v/s Strategic: My perspective

Off late I have been often hearing and using myself the words tactical and strategic. After giving a deeper thought I felt revisiting the two and providing my flavor to the same.

Before I share my perspective lets understand the widely accepted view on these.
Tactical meaning: of or relating to tactics: as (1): of or relating to small-scale actions serving a larger purpose (2): made or carried out with only a limited or immediate end in view.

Strategic: Strategy [1]) is a general, undetailed plan of action, encompassing a long period of time, to achieve a complicated goal.

Considering dictionary meaning, the common understanding is
1) Tactical is short-term and Strategic is long-term, or…
2) Tactical is small and Strategic is big, or…
3) Tactical is kludgy and Strategic is high-quality
Well now that we understand the widely accepted meaning, I can draw an analogy which I call my perspective. The part of the world that I belong, we are known for our rich culture and customs. There are lot of rituals and ceremonies before a couple enters a social institution of marriage. One of the customs is that the couple exchange rings more popularly known as engagement. This last 6 to 12 months before the couple takes vows to be together for life.
I know your thought is what’s the   analogy? Well ancestors who designed this ‘architecture’ were the best in their job. The analogy is that engagement which is more of a tactical option gives the couple a chance to relate to small-scale actions serving a larger purpose J.  Marriage where the couple is tied with no escape is more of a strategic solution and as the meaning puts undetailed plan of action, encompassing a long period of time, to achieve a complicated goal, the complicated goal here I assume is the ‘and they lived happily ever after J’ Till the time marriage isn’t announced the couple can think if they would like to go strategic, once gone strategic there is no looking back.
Now that most of you may agree with the analogy, I would like to end this with what a friend shared a few days ago. When I was casually discussing the tactical vs. strategic he gave me a very good example of a tactical mistake vs. a strategic blunder. Post the strategic implementation of your plan of marriage if a man gifts his wife a present which she doesn’t like it’s a tactical mistake while if he altogether forgets her birthday it’s a strategic blunder. 
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Complexities among shades of Grey!!!

To confess, my next blog was ‘The warmth of his hand’….but a discussion with a friend and her complex situation with her boyfriend turned the course of action towards this blog J
I did like to start with a disclaimer – this isn’t a second in series of male bashing articles but a different perspective rather my perspective to reading the dominant sex (by sheer number).

While all women across the world drooled over E. L. James depiction of young business magnate, Christian Grey and his 50 shades, I would like to draw your attention to the not so happening shades of a man.

I looked up Wikipedia and understand that the sex ratio for the entire world population is 101 males to 100 females. Then am sure the one man over the 100 is Christian Grey. So here is my reading of the not so happening traits among men that an average woman would abhor or in my perspective are beyond normal.

Men who laugh without a reason – don’t give me surprised looks, they exist and in our very own world. A friend brought this up, she was seeing this guy for some time and was just unable to understand the cause of his laughter without a reason on anything or without anything, she is sitting across a table, talking something she needs an opinion on and here goes the laughter. Am sure the thinking bandwagon would tick there on thoughts of course what was the laughter which breaks in every few seconds for? Worst still…..what’s the joke dude? The only oxymoron that fits well for such people is I got to fathom the depth of their shallow minds.

Men who go silent or are non-reactive – you talk to them one reaction silence, you convey your thoughts no response. Imagine a conversation where a woman is her chirpy self, excited to meet him after days, loads to share and there is only one reaction……you got that right no reaction J. On another note I do agree that most men are more visually-driven, they would be watching her rather than hearing her J

Men who are non-responsive – Well this could be coming from the known trait most men can’t express themselves. Don’t express, respond to situations, respond to people. I saw her in a fix and had to tell her don’t expect a response. I do sometimes feel being more direct might help, but it depends on what we ask for. A vaguely asked question might not be responded specially the “we need to talk!’ ones.

Given this I still feel that women can be more complex than men. Given the complexity, I am not among those who pose problems, I think there is a solution to every problem and some quick fixes may help.

Be direct – Avoid using hinting as a way to ask for what you want, be direct. These tactics make men feel manipulated and lost, that makes them angry.

Give time – Men have been trained to have all the answers and avoid showing their fear or uncertainty. Men prefer to talk only when they know the answer or solution, and will not like to talk much until then. They like to do their thinking process silently. So give time.

Give Way – there will be enough clues to understand if you can carry on or not. Get them right; don’t hang around the branch if it’s growing thorns. Understand and move on. You might be the next Adele and make it big after he is gone who knows J


Lastly to err is human be it us or them so never give up on someone you can’t go a day without thinking about, rest time heals everything!!

I can’t end it without a nazm, so here it is…


गाँठ अगर लग जाये तोह फिर रिश्ते हों या डोरी 
लाख करे कोशिश खुलने में वक़्त तोह लगता है।

नए परिंदों को उड़ने में वक़्त तोह लगता है 
प्यार का पहला ख़त लिखने में वक़्त तोह लगता है। 

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Pre-Prem, Post-Prem……Real Prem??

Pre-Prem, Post-Prem……Real Prem??
(*prem is a Sanskrit word meaning love)
Telephone, cell phone, going mobile or being virtual has made the world such a small place……you reckon? I don’t.
30 CHF or 150 INR – 1 GB internet, 90 minutes and unlimited text messages free!!!!!! We have divided our love based on the cell phone scheme we have whether its prepaid or postpaid. Pre-paid scheme more text messages and less talk (messages are free you see). So you text your boyfriend all the time and mom who has failed to keep herself abreast with the short text language gets the few minutes if calling is free. Post-paid schemes….night calling at half rates!!! I haven’t got a better scheme yet dude. I can talk late nights with him and my family doesn’t stay awake late so I can spend the few minutes on high rate day calling on them. When was the last time you saw a self-written post card sent or received from your loved one? Missing the personal touch eh, the thought that he would have touched the same card that you are holding now or smelling his fragrance from the card reminding you of the intimacy you shared….fast forward, get to today’s world…what card…the e card?
The world really has got closer, you need not visit your relatives as you have video calling. You are glued to your laptop when working, blackberry to receive and send emails with zero time lapses and of course the Xbox….you need to unwind after a day’s work. Asking my dad on what would he do after his office and he would get the glitter in his eyes and say all the friends would meet below the apartment daily post dinner and chitchat, share happy and sad moments and advice each other. Over weekends it was cricket at the local street and all would look forward to it as the losing team would treat the winning one. What life man!!! And here I am spending on all the expensive gadgets to keep myself busy and still get depressed at the end of the week.
Now talking of the more advanced world …..Our self-made ecosystem…..our virtual world, the face books and messengers of the world. The good part is you get in touch with those whom you thought would never meet you in life, you also meet those whom you choose to be friends with without the boundaries of appearance and status.
But I want to draw your attention to the funnier side of being virtual and what I think when I read these……
LOL(laugh out loud) – when was the time you even laughed forget being loud…..i heard you have joined the laugh club where in each morning you go to a garden and pretend to laugh till your intestines blast….
ROFL (Roll on the floor and laugh)……I really want to see you do that….that would ensure I LOLJ
AFAIC or AFAICT – (As far as I am concerned/tell)….i could type the words faster than the acronym
AFB – (Away from brain)….when were you last thereJ
I can leave you thinking with the rest AISB, AMF, AWS and AYT……
Well not being too sarcastic and I agree we don’t have a lot of personal time, I wouldn’t even deny that our gen guys have more competition at work, put in longer hours, have complex business situations to deal with but given a deeper thought I believe and agree that people who think life is bigger than family or job or yourself am sure will give you a different perspective. I would leave you with this thought that we all have been given the same gift called “life” and differences in life between two individuals are a result of the choices he makes. So if I make a choice that I want to live my life to the fullest without pulling restrictive goals of managing a company, making babies, owning property or doing charity…I would still be happy. For me…it’s a journey…full of surprises and knowing myself better and thus Life’s Like That!!!!
PS- The next time you want to speak to a friend who is closer…just walk over to him don’t get to digital emotions.
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MEN ARE LIKE RUBBER BANDS!!

MEN ARE LIKE RUBBER BANDS!!

John Gray in his book Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus talks of men having an intimacy cycle which is much like a rubber band….

“they instinctively pull away. It is not a decision or a choice. It just happens. It is neither his fault nor her fault. It’s a natural cycle”

I agree with Gray on men being like rubber bands but it is not his decision or choice……nor his fault….dude is in serious misconception there!

Am sure all my women friends will have a déjà vu feeling when they hear the words…I am blank…a standard connotation used by the rightly called rubber bands  Interestingly my interpretation goes that men pull back as much as they can and then get reminded….some things would require mademoiselle and thus the rubber band is back to position!

So to be more precise John Gray also describes that men who are habitually insensitive or unavailable and who come to women when they need an ego boost or in his words get generally to get his needs met (mostly emotional) without fulfilling her needs…. here he got it right again but I see a different pattern now…

In these changing times we all, both men and women can have phases of being less tolerant and emotionally insensitive. With the high divorce rates and break-ups sky rocketing it is very natural to not be able to emotionally engage with someone on a healthy level for long periods of time.

For me it’s about foundation….the stone on which the relationship is based…if that stepping stone is strong…..let the rubber band stretch… it will surely come to position. Whatever we say both the sexes fail to exist without each other and for once let us women too agree…they aren’t that bad…it’s all on us to recognize if it’s not being a rubber band that comes back only to get the way and back again or a rubber band that stretches so much that breaks.

The argument continues……..

I will leave you on the fence with this liner from fml: ‘Today, my friend told me men can’t be trusted. I told her that wasn’t true; I have my husband’s password to his email but I never check it because I trust him. She bet me he was doing something bad, and to prove her wrong I looked. Turns out he has been cheating on me for 8 months’

Thoughts anyone……