Passing the Buck

Passing the buck is an art. Blaming others for your wrongdoing is the best way to save your ass. But then you need to do this carefully. Just like an artist who paints effortlessly in the canvas, the buck should be passed effortlessly. This is very common in the offices. When something good happens most of the managers take the credit themselves. When something bad happens the team members are at fault. Even within the team, passing the buck goes on as per hierarchy. Bottom-line, the buck flows from top to bottom. The juniors are always screwed.

Recently the top to bottom approach had taken a little dent in the Air India case, our national airline. The once Maharaja is now a Fakir. The entire organization is in total mess and is begging for government grant to stay afloat. Years of mismanagement and enjoyment has screwed the Maharaja badly. And now the thousands of employees are blaming the management for the mess. Although the management is no good but then the employees also never worked. The airhostesses are fat with no manners. Ask for something extra and you will know. Pilots are beyond their expiry date. Reports say there are some 7500 employees in Air India who never work. They are part of the Unions – Left, Right and Center. Interestingly, they also draw additional flying allowances apart from their salary despite the fact that these guys never flew as part of their work. Overall, Maharaja’s present condition presents a very sorry situation. And now these employees are blaming the management for their condition. The management is no God either. They have enjoyed government money for years and have pushed the once profitable airlines to deep loss. However, the point is the buck is getting passed from the lower strata to the higher strata this time. I think Unions in any big company have more say than the management. HARTAL is their deadly weapon.

Now I have an insight to share. There is a psychological reason why passing the buck happens. It’s because from the very childhood, we get accustomed to this habit. A kid bumps into a chair and falls down hurt, and starts weeping. The parent consoles the child by slapping the chair saying the chair is at fault, and that it has been punished. Nobody dares say to the child that it is his or her fault. I am sure majority of us have experienced this in our childhood. At least I have experienced this frequently during my younger days. And I'm convinced this is where it all starts --- blaming someone or something else for all your misfortunes. So passing the buck is in our nature. Although, I cannot say about others but in my case if I am at some fault I will definitely try to pass the buck. I am just trying to be honest. Apologies for this shrewdness! But then I can’t help it. Can you?

Budget Homes!

Buying a home is every person’s dream. Whatever are your aspirations in life, you will always want to get a home for yourself at some stage. And I am no exception. But in India these types of materialistic dreams come at a huge price. So despite working for the last five years with an Ok type salary, I am still not able to get a small dwelling place for myself in Delhi NCR. The only thing that stands between me and my 2BHK dream is the sky-high price. And I strongly feel there are thousands of working professionals like me who are desperate to get a small shelter for themselves. But due to the demand supply mismatch and some builder friendly government policy, the price for this dream fulfillment is getting higher and higher. I simply donot understand how every successive government projects themselves as ‘Am Admi’ friendly.
The recession came as a boon for many prospective home buyers. Yes, the developers decreased their flat prices by some amount but then it’s too less to get maximum people like us interested. People like me are in search of affordable homes or budget homes. We cannot spend 50 lakhs for a 2-3BHK. We need something within 15 lakhs at the most. We are willing to compromise on space. We need a flat similar to the NANO. But unfortunately there is no one to fulfill our dreams.

The real estate market took a severe beating within the rising impact of the economic crisis. Demand fell and developers started having a tough time selling their stuff. Suddenly the prices started looking hyper inflated. The media was full of news highlighting the burst of the Indian real estate bubble. Analysts expected a huge fall in real estate prices. A correction seemed eminent. The budget buyers became overjoyed. I was one of those happy souls.

As the economic crisis went deeper, affordable housing became the buzzword. To get the demand back, developers were getting interested in affordable housing. Budget home projects started coming up. People like us started climbing to cloud 9. Finally dreams will come true. The news papers were full of advertisements for Affordable housing projects. Flats priced below 15 lakhs. Amazing! I wanted to be part of this budget action. And I started enquiring. I kept calling up companies, started visiting the housing project locations. The advertised prices were too cheap. Finally God has listened to my prayers.

Tragedy! Tragedy! Tragedy! On enquiring I found these budget homes to be trap homes. Builders were advertising/launching projects in faraway places and thereby pricing them below 15 lakhs. So on paper it seems very exciting. Once you enquire about the location you realize that you will be traveling 50-60 kms daily from those places to reach your office. This distance can increase phenomenally with decrease in price. And, as far as infrastructure is concerned please do not expect any. But still people are buying those. Recently, Unitech has launched their Affordable housing project called UNIHOMES. A 750 square foot flat is priced at approximately 25 lakhs. Although the location is not so bad, the prices will tease you like anything. God knows how they call it affordable! Jaypee Aman was a project in which I got terribly interested. It’s in sector 151 Noida. When I visited the site, I found the distance to be more than 60 kms both ways from my office in Sector 3 Noida. Bottom-line, with affordable housing comes smaller homes at God forsaken faraway places, where only eagles dare and dacoits rule.

So I have decided to continue staying in rent. And I sincerely request all the budget home buyers to please wait. Just hold your patience. We individually cannot do anything. But as a united force if we postpone our home buying for a year at least, I am sure the developers will start crying. And we will then have the much desired leverage. But I am no mass leader and so cannot mobilize public sympathy and support. So I am doing my part alone. I am not buying anything as of now. I am waiting. Will you?

Reverie in Sultry June

The June heat is getting unbearable in Delhi. Why there is no rain? Last rain happened some 3 weeks back. And average temperature over the last two weeks is at 42 degree centigrade. Too much isn’t it. I think the world is really heating up. Long time back when I read “State of Fear” by Michael Crichton, I took the author’s argument very seriously. I sincerely believed that the concept of global warming is false and all the hype and hoopla surrounding it are handiworks of some wicked minds with vested interests. But now when I read that schools have declared summer vacation in Shimla, I have started believing in the concept of Global warming.

Despite the unbearable heat, my movie watching habit is intact. Every alternate week I generally go to some multiplex in Noida to watch the morning show. I go to the morning shows only because the ticket price is less and I cannot afford prices above Rs 100. I enjoy the two hours in the AC experiencing Wordsworth’s “Willing suspension of disbelief”. Lot of people advice me why waste money unnecessarily as I have a huge TV at home I can easily watch movies on DVD. But they do not know that once I possessed a huge desire to make films. I almost made it to the film schools. So during those two hours in the cinema hall, I dream. For me the best part of the movie is the credit rolls: “Directed By” – I imagine my name there. Yashraj Films, I replace it with my imagined home production unit name “Sunny Films”. Every shot I try to visualize the directors POV. It’s an experience of some other kind, which logical mortals will not understand. You need to be a professional day dreamer and a little eccentric to understand what I am trying to say.

Today when I was booking my ticket for the movie called “New York” online at http://www.bookmyshow.com/ , the memory of my first movie going adventure flashed in front of me. I was in Class VIII when i first visited a cinema hall, in my hometown Haldia aproximately 11 years back. The movie I watched was "Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaygenge". The cinema hall’s name is “Manjushree”. The Hall remains as it is. There have been some cosmetic changes with some big coolers getting fitted but the overall getup and appearance still the remains.

I was brought up in a family where books and studies mattered. My dad was an extremely serious guy who only watched news in the 14” inch Black and White TV. Mom was a housewife who used to spend most of her time reading. She was a voracious reader and read everything that was available in Bengali. And she was a wizard in Maths. I was never an outgoing kid. I was not so good at sports either. So eventually I also took to Books. But I had a secret desire to be a singer. I used to adore Kumar Sanu like my personal God. I used to vociferously sing in the bathroom. Once under the shower, I used to belt out endless hits of Sanu. Almost every day my dad had to shout and knock on the bathroom to get me out. Till today I strongly believe that my singing career was nipped in the bud by my father. I could have easily become a Kumar Sunny, SAP or something else. And in those times we had no reality shows where I can just gate crash and start singing. But past is past. Let me not dig the grave further.

It was in 1995 that the movie called “Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge” was released. The movie with SRK and Kajol was a super hit. And the songs were too good. Kumar Sanu had a few songs in the movie and the song “Tujhe dekha to yea jana sanam” became my personal anthem. Lot of my friends saw that movie and the story of Raj became irresistible. I knew my parents will never give me permission to see the movie. And the era I am talking about had no concept of pirated DVDs and cable. So going to the hall was the only option. I started planning. I took my cycle on the pretext of getting some Xeroxes done and carefully examined the show timings in the movie posters. And I was so driven by the urge to see the movie that I decided to bunk my English tuition. The 6pm show and my English tuition timings matched perfectly. I enquired about the rates. It was Rs 4 for Rear, Rs 8 for Balcony and Rs 10 for Dress Circle. Getting Rs 4 for the ticket and Rs 1 as my bus fare was a big thing but then was not that difficult also. I managed.

I decided to see the movie on Monday. Instead of going to tuition I headed straight to the hall. I was nervous. I stood still at one place and observed the people, the ticket counters, the entrance to the hall, the shops, the roads. I located the rear stall counter. Then my eyes scanned for any familiar faces. If I am caught I am finished. I scanned thoroughly and decided to go for the kill. I stood in the line and got a pink colored ticket and quickly came to a vantage point where I started scanning people again. If you would have seen my movements that time you would have strongly believed that I was a spy in my earlier life. I saw couple of guys like me with bags at some other strategic points. Good to have company. I was not alone. Once I found the area clear I quickly stood in the rear stall entry line. The gatekeeper checked my ticket and looked at me. I sensed the scorn in his eyes. Boys entering manhood too early. But then no where it was written that children are not allowed. I was not going for an adult show. I made my entry. And I did it proudly.

The inside of the hall was mesmerizing. So many people. Food stalls. There was an area in the left where there were posters of upcoming movies. I went there. The place was very crowded. I had a look. The upcoming Adult movie’s poster was also there. My eyes bulged seeing the poster. I moved away. I found there were multiple gates in the ground floor and there were two stairs leading to the 1st floor. It was confusing. No directions were given. So I asked a guy. He showed me the entrance in the ground floor. I entered the hall. As I looked up, I saw lot of chairs in the 1st floor. The structure was a semi circle format with the screen at the centre and I understood why the tickets were called balcony. The dress circle concept I failed to understand. Anyway, I went to the guy with a torch light. He pointed to my seat in the third row. It was too close to the screen. I was very happy. Such an idiot I was. Only after half an hour I realized that the closer you are to the screen the more screwed is your movie watching experience. The guys paying Rs 8 and Rs 10 were watching it from a large distance away from the screen only to keep their eyes stress free.

The movie was too good. I tried to position my dad in the place of Anupam Kher. I quickly rejected the idea. I can never call my dad “Pops”. Neither my dad will offer me beer and tell me to go and get my girl, mo love. Instead he will shoe me away. And the possibility of me dating someone like Kajol was extremely remote. I imagined the face of the girl in our school on whom I had a bad crush. I imagined myself in the place of Raj and she took the place of Kajol. She singing “Jara sa jhum lu mein”. Me singing “Na re baba na”. Then I rejected the idea again. Too much wishful thinking.

I went mad when the song “Tujhe dekha to iye jana sanam” started. I never heard Kumar Sanu’s voice in a theatrical setup. I had Goosebumps. I started singing without forgetting that I was in a public place. Soon I found a hand pushing me. “Chup kore thak bachha. Barire giye ga na. Gann dorechen Tansen” (Shut up kid. Go outside and sing. Tansen has started singing!!), the guy beside me told. Others were looking at me. It was such a big insult. I went Red in embarrassment. My ears became hot. Why can’t the world motivate the talented guys? Why they have to always fight so hard to get their voices heard? Why?

The movie ended. I was the last guy to leave the hall. It was an experience! I loitered here and there. I had a hour to kill. I bought a Bapuji cake and started walking through an empty street beside the hall. This road was under construction, which once completed will lead straight to Ranichak reducing travel time. I sat on the culvert and started star gazing. One day I will be a singer. I sang the song “Tujhe dekha to iye jana sanam”. I sang it again. My eyes became moist. I imagined myself on the stage with my parents in the front row. My sweetheart with her parents was also there. I can easily spot her from the stage. I was too excited. I started singing again.

“Your Internet Session has timed out” – the message popped on the internet explorer page. I was back to reality.

I love Monday Morning!

“April is the cruelest month” wrote T.S. Elliot. Likewise, for most of the working class Monday is the cruelest day. After enjoying the weekend one has to get back to work on a Monday. This day symbolizes the end of something good and the start of something dreadful. I see people at their best moods on a Friday, Thank Goodness It’s Friday! Friday is the end of the sinister work week. Disco Nights, party lights, people swaying, music playing - everybody is in the mood.
I also used to hate Mondays. The hate was so immense that I used to bunk office every alternate Monday. This trend became so rampant that one day my frustrated Boss called me and asked me to explain why I fall sick only on Mondays. Why not a Friday? He must be joking. Nobody falls sick on a Friday.
With time things have changed. How? Firstly I got married. With marriage, one’s dependency on the paycheque increases. Secondly, I have developed a hobby. It’s Photography. Now this is an expensive hobby. Cameras are costly. So are the Photography books. My job pays me to get a few of these 'luxuries'. Besides, I have a dream! I want to have my own Digital SLR one day. I need a regular flow of cash for it. For me Monday morning is the start of a new work week, one step closer to the payday.
Please do not get me wrong. I love weekends. But what’s wrong with a Monday? It’s the beginning of a new opportunity, a new week. Monday is the day when we get one more chance to build something again, a chance to create something new. Monday is potential. Some people grab this opportunity. Some wait for the Friday.

Shineless Shiny!!

Shiny Ahuja has raped his housemaid. Now this is very difficult news to digest. Shiny with his star image, looks and killer body could have slept with any woman. There are thousands of girls in Mumbai wanting to be the next Bollywood queen. A friend of mine who works in the film industry in a responsible position says that at least fifty percent of the women are willing to sleep with any guy who offers them a role. With no offence to the fairer sex, if this news is even true by a certain percentage, then people like Shiny has access to a significant number of girls to play around and take them to bed. Boys are not far too. Lot of guys is also sleeping in order to get roles, my friend says. They offer themselves to guys who promise them the silver screen magic. And my friend tells me Bollywood is full of gays and would be actors generally face them at one time or another. Thank God I never aspired to be an actor. My ass is safe.

So why did Shiny rape this maid? It’s a tricky question indeed. His Wife Anupam Ahuja has claimed that Shiny is a nice person and a man of character. She must be a very nice and liberal wife who allows her husband to have sex with other woman during her absence. You need to be very bold to give these kind of statements.

Now why did Shiny rape her? Is she too hot and preety? We can’t say as no pictures of her are available. For a change the media is behaving responsibly. She must be having very good assets but again cannot be confirmed. She was a virgin at the time of sex as per the medical reports. Her hymen was ruptured by Shiny’s banana during the brutal act. So was it because Shiny always wanted to do a virgin? Possible. But then was his wife not a virgin? We do not have data on this. So no comments. Another possibility is Shiny wanted to feel rape first hand as he was going to play a serial rapist in some Mahesh Bhatt movie. He wanted to get awards through his realistic acting and so he did the act in real only to get screwed. He thought he could get away as he was a star and the girl will say nothing. But the girl proved to be of very strong character. Other theories can be applied. Possibilities are endless.

In the movie "Life in a Metro" Shiny has intimate scenes with Shilpa Shetty. He did justice to the role of a struggling theatre actor. A person who had restraint with Shilpa, lost control on a servant girl sounds stupid. But Shiny got the plot totally wrong. He went after someone he thought he can get away with as he never thought the girl would go to police especially considering how much women & families value honor in India. But here we are dealing with a honorable girl who has the guts to stand up and protest. 99% of the rapes are not reported due to society image issues. At least she didn’t think of all these things.

Anyway Shiny’s medical reports are yet to arrive but most likely it is going to test positive as he himself has confessed that they both had consentual sex. So bottom-line, Sex has taken placed. Liked or not liked sex not sure at this moment. Now even if he is proved guilty, I have strong beliefs that he will come out a free man. Sometime back I went to give a Interview in one of India’s biggest corporate law firm. The guy told me frankly that cases in India are won not by evidences but by money and power. So in this case Shiny has both. So if Salman Khan after killing a man and Sanjay Dutt accused in Bombay Riots can come out clean, why can’t Shiny?
Whatever be the outcome one thing is sure. Shiny has lost his Shine. I am searching for his address. I want to send him a Black Cherry Shoe Polish and a Brush for his wife. So that both can get the shine back. It would be lovely to see a Black Shiny.

Fly Bird Fly!

When I was young my grandpa always used to say that inspiration is a thing which one can find everywhere provided one knows how to get inspired. I never understood him but now I realize that he was right. Today I got inspired from a bird, a young one. That bird was just four inch in size, too small to inspire a 5’8”, 75 KG guy. But she proved otherwise!

Like every evening, I was having my tea in the verandah, which overlooks our society park. It was quite hot outside but I didn’t mind it. Children were playing in the park, lots of birds were coming back to their respective trees and the sky was getting grayish. Hope it rains, I sincerely prayed. Children of various sizes were present in the park. From the one foot to three foot, all were busy playing. Only a few were sitting very quietly at one place looking straight towards the sky. They seemed out of place. But then they are mostly likely to become the world’s future philosophers: the future Descartes, Plato and Seneca in the making. They must be thinking “Cogito, ergo sum" (Latin for "I think, therefore I am"). Thinking this I could not resist a smile.
And there were some Sardar kids. What a sharp contrast from those little philosophers. The way they were running and making some high pitched noise that they are surely going to join the Indian Army and get posted in the Pakistan border. They had that talent of scaring away people. Suddenly a small bird flew and sat in the bench near where the little sardars were playing. She could not evade the children’s eyes. It was clearly evident that she was a bit injured. She was hopping instead of flying. Two adventurous sardars grabbed this golden opportunity. They wanted to capture that little bird. Slowly they kept moving towards her. One step at a time. Their movement was like just like some under cover agent closely following a suspect. The two came really close. I got up and held the railing tightly because the situation was getting tense. I wanted to shout at them but something kept me quiet. Why the bird is not looking back? Why is she not flying away? Now the two were really close. The bird sensed the predators behind. It hopped few steps away. The boys got a little nervous. They were really close. I guess they started doubting their ability to catch that bird. Victory never comes easily, they forgot. The two moved again, this time more carefully, inch by inch. The bird did not move. They were just one foot away. The sardar with the red turban slowly moved his hand towards the bird. His right hand was slowly moving towards her but bird didn’t move. What has happened to her? Fly Bird Fly! Come on. They are going to torture you. Run. My heart cried. Just when the sardar tried to close his iron fist and catch the bird, it flew away. My happiness knew no bound. The bird was flying despite been injured. It was hopping for such a long time. And now it was flying despite the pain. Her confidence made her fly. Sheer grit and determination to maintain her freedom. She proved that she is the master of her own destiny. She is a child of freedom. Her indomitable spirit cannot be tamed. I was happy and kept looking at those two young sardars who seemed dejected and were blaming each other for the loss. It would have been a golden prize for them, and a good way to impress the young sardarnis in the park.