identity crisis

Identity crisis!!?

It is a technology driven society today and being net- savvy is more a necessity than a luxury .I am a netizen too and I must confess that  I  often surf the net to seek out interesting e-mail ids. Each e-mail id says so much about the individual and gives a fascinating glimpse into the mind of the owner. Often , an address says more about the person than the mail!

lawyer.kochupillaiparthasarthy.tvs@hotmail.com is quite obviously a serious individual who is rather particular about the way he is addressed and means business. doctorjoinbones@rediffmail.com is an orthopedic colleague; gasbag@hotmail.com is an anesthesiologist and believe it or not, babies-out@gmail.com is a gynecologist friend of mine. A final year medicine resident at my hospital is waiting to go into private practice and makes his intentions clear with moneyraker@vsnl.com .

There is a bunch of sports crazy individuals on the net who carry their sporting affiliations as a badge of honour. One encounters spsdhonitops@gmail.com or vkmanchesterunited-forlife@hotmail.com   and I find prerna-dravid-ismine@msn.com interesting. A rare one –vishwnathananandgps@mac.com !

Some addresses are clearly aspirational. My son gets mail from britneyismine-rp@gmail.com and sharapova-iwant-u@usanet.com. Another of his friends is yogihasferari@msn.com .   Some make their musical preferences clear -    beethoven-u-rock@dna.com and elvis-is-king@gmail.com don’t leave much to imagination. Some addresses make it clear that the couple is much in love ; mp&rita-r-1@vsnl.com and minaraju-janamjanam@gmail.com are good examples of love on the net!

Then there are some e-mail ids which convey a social message as well; save-papersandy@hotmail.com ; saynotosmoking-vijay@indiatimes.com and conservewater-rishi@rediff.com are prime examples. Some convey different kinds of messages-      ihatemen-rina@tna.com; rksays-brinjals-r-yuck@sify.com   Some addresses give an insight into the mental state of the person    -ihatexams@hotmail.com and lifesucks@vsnl.com might need assistance.

It truly is a fascinating study and I am really hooked on to it. I would love a feedback from readers and would love them to share interesting addresses with me on my email id ubetterlikethisarticle@indiatimes.com !!

the hand that rocks the cradle

The hand that rocks the cradle!!

                                               

It was a very long time back, in the very early nineties, when I was stationed in Assam. The thoughts of that lovely North Eastern state always evokes memories of lush green stretches of verdant forest. Rain forests, heavy monsoons, clean unpolluted air and simple ,affectionate people going about their business of life is what I remember fondly of that beautiful place. Another memory , which is inevitably linked in my mind , is a lesson in the expression about looks being deceptive and a delightful lesson in Queen’s English!

 My elder son was born while I was stationed there. After a few months , there rose the necessity of acquiring a pram for the young man. Guwahati, where I was headed  for the necessary purchase, was nearly a hundred and fifty kilometers from my location. Armed with a list of specifications from my wife regarding the pram , I reached the fabled Pan and Fancy Bazaars of the  city. It was hot , humid and dusty by the time  I reached , but I was a man with a mission. 

I was initially surprised and then increasingly dejected and dismayed as I drew a blank in shop after shop. I told shopkeeper after another I needed a pram. They looked at me without comprehension. I gave a graphic verbal description of what I needed ;I drew what I definitely thought, looked like a pram and showed it around and then finally an effective demonstration  of an imaginary baby in an imaginary pram being pushed by a proud father. But , inspite of my best audio-visual presentations, no luck , no pram. My descriptions produced everything other than a pram and I was offered a bed pan, a washing machine and an Idli maker , but no pram.

I had almost given up and was now scouting some of the smaller dusty by-lanes of the market. I approached a Lungi –clad disinterested elderly gent in a small shop

and launched into my well honed pitch for the elusive pram. He spat out a mouthful of betel juice, put on his spectacles, scratched his groin and peered at me through his thick glasses. He then spoke to me in an amazing baritone, in the clearest English diction , I have ever heard, “Young man, why are you making all these funny gestures and making a fool of yourself? You want a perambulator and that is  what you will get!” I could not believe my ears –that was perhaps the last time I have ever heard the word in all these years. The pram / perambulator turned out to be a Victorian relic with a lace canopy and lace trimmings on the wheels and the Union Jack emblazoned on the head rest. It was a monstrosity and no where near the stringent specifications given by my wife but it was a pram, or should I say perambulator .

Well, the young man had his distinguished carriage  and I had a lesson in Queen’s English in the most unexpected of places and incongruous of surroundings. Life never ceases to amaze!

maid in india

Maid in India

                                                           

                                                                

We are a working  couple and  have two growing sons.  Consequently , a major issue in our lives is the availability or the lack of domestic help. The Maid assumes larger than life importance in our lives. The availability of an appropriate and a reliable  maid governs our social life and several other facets of our life. With erratic working hours and ill timed visits  to the hospital on account of emergencies, the maid assumes a central role in our existence.

              What my parents could not teach me, several years of domesticity and dealing with maids of all shapes, sizes, caste, creed, temperament, religion and linguistic preference has taught me in abundant measure. Patience ,tolerance, humility, generosity, fortitude and a forgiving nature have become an intrinsic part of my  character. My mother can’t recognize me and my wife wonders where these sterling traits disappear when it comes to my behaviour with her! 

               It has been a long journey and each of the ones on a very long list of maids had something to teach me. Many years back, Shantamma, who was our maid then, made it clear she would watch ‘Ramayan” in the mornings and “Santa Barbara”(a juicy American soap) in the evenings on my newly acquired TV and work had to be squeezed in between the two television offerings. Alice, a misguided spirit was under the impression that my home was the local center for “Alcoholics Anonymous”. After several trips to the hospital with her perennially inebriated husband, I became an expert on Alcohol related liver diseases but we had to march the couple on to someone more spirited than myself. Lata was very religious and that was a good omen till I realized she was serving the good lord more than us. Monday, she would want to visit the Lakshmi temple; Tuesday was devoted to the famous Hanuman mandir; Wednesday was for the Hande family; Thursday- a busy day; Sai Baba in the morning and Pir Baba at the Dargah in the evening; Friday was immersed in Chitala Devi and after some respite on Saturday, Mass at the Good Shepherd Church on Sunday was mandatory. Unfortunately our needs were more earthly and we had to let this spiritual soul drift away from us. Then came Saira; things seemed alright for sometime till I started discovering a lot of people in town wearing my favourite shirts and looking rather smart and trendy. She had to leave after depleting my wardrobe considerably. To be fair ,there have been many who have been warm and kind and affectionate and some have been sincere and honest too.

                        Needless to say, it has taken a lot of tact and patience dealing with the lot and one has learnt many lessons along the way and one continues to learn each day . I must let you onto a little secret. Knowledge of my tremendous experience in dealing with maids has reached the precincts of  the Indian Institute of Management. The various IIMs have approached  me to launch their new MBA program on Maid Management  and take over as the faculty head in view of the tremendous interest and demand for the course. Needless to say , I shall keep you posted on developments….

                                                                                                    

no sneezing matter

No sneezing matter!

                                                    

                                            

Some people are compulsive liars; others are compulsive shoppers or walkers. Well , I am a compulsive sneezer. My sneezing habits and abilities have made me a legendary figure among friends, colleagues, family and acquaintances. My fame , if I may call that, has spread far and wide. My record of maximum sneezes on the trot is likely to be verified shortly by the authorities at the Guiness Book of world Records and is going to find a honorable mention in the 2012 edition!

Some unexplained biological rhythm wakes me up at quarter to five in the morning with the first of a series of sneezes. Thereafter , as the day progresses, the frequency and intensity of my rhinological explosions goes on mounting. Neither me , nor my neighbors have used an alarm clock to wake up in the morning for several years. The neighborhood departmental store has long since given up trying to cope with my requirement of tissue and napkins. Many of the companies vie for my nose with the latest in heavy duty tissue paper and four ply napkins and try them out for performance scores and quality control before introducing them into the market. Pharmaceutical companies are invariably trying to woo me with their latest antihistaminics and try to buy my loyalty with gifts of expensive pens and silk ties. When I shift allegiance to a rival company , their stock ,inevitably soars on the share market. My friends seek me out constantly for information on ‘insider trading’.

My wife, however , has been threatening divorce for several years. My parents are on the verge of disowning me and my friends greet me as strangers when they are with friends and classmates. We do get exceptional service in restaurants and sometimes they even waive the bill, as the mangers want me to finish quickly and leave . The real estate agent has a tough time convincing folks to move into the next door flat. More often than not , it remains vacant; very few survive beyond three months. My boss finds it more convenient to promote me rather than sit across me  and analyze my performance face to face.

I have tried everything under the sun and the moon. Allopathy; Homeopathy; Naturopathy; Ayurveda( I could have bought a Honda Civic with the  amount I spent); Reiki , yoga and what have you. I have consulted rhinolgists, psychiatrists , psychologists, proctologists bit to no avail. My maid recommended a mouthful of hot chilies and standing barefoot under the sun for an hour. I developed ulcers in the mouth ; blisters on the foot; sacked the maid and continued to sneeze. I am beginning to get depressed; my patients (incidentally I am a doctor) are leaving me and my clinic wears a deserted look. I have very few friends and family left and things are getting worse by the day. I would like to appeal to readers to send suggestions/ advice/ prescriptions at hande@sneeze-sneeze.com  and bail me out of this terribly sticky situation !!

those were the best days

Those were the best days….

I grew up an Army brat.  I say it with pride and as I grow older , I realize it was a truly privileged existence. It was the finest childhood a parent could offer a growing child . I am what I am today ; I think the way I do ; react in the way I do , in  large measure to my Army , my Cantonment up -bringing..

It was a different way of life . I saw nine schools by the time I passed out of school. Yes, I felt bad leaving school each time , leaving friends and class-mates. But each new station and each new school , brought in a new set of friends , a new range of experiences and a whole lot of new adventures. One joined good schools , bad schools , indifferent schools and one adapted . You always had other Army brats to help you in the journey.  There were classes at times under the open skies-the roof of the school had been blown off in a storm .  At times , there were no classes at all – no teachers could be motivated to serve in those remote far flung areas- so one played football the whole day long and studied at home ! But do believe me , all my co –brats are doing amazingly well today in all walks of life ,all across the world. They are all professionals - executives , physicians ,journalists , fashion designers , Armed Forces personnel  of the highest caliber…

The cleanest air we breathed; the best of grounds we played in. We had access to the finest sporting facilities in the country –tennis , squash , riding , swimming –we  had it all.  We saw the geography and the topography of this great country. It is a different thing that we often had to dig out the Atlas or find out from Dad’s colleagues in the Signals as to where exactly the place we were posted to existed. Learnt terms such as NRS-  Nearest Railway Station- very rarely was one lucky to detrain at the same location. But the reception at the station and the onward journey by road made one feel like a feudal prince. Every Army brat knows the high regard one had for the “Bhaiyya “. One did not know about Sewadar or Sahayak but one certainly knew “Bhaiyya” was family. He was Jeeves , your friend  and guide rolled into one .

One learnt that there was a family beyond the  four walls of your home. . One learnt that when your Dad went on course or exercise or got posted out , there were a whole lot of “Uncles” and “Aunties” who adopted you and made you feel special and cared for and somehow made things easier .  The “Pot-luck” dinners and impromptu “Chaat –parties” and Sunday brunches by the riverside with the entire unit in attendance gave you something special to always look forward to. One learnt that the more you give , the more you get ..

It was not always rosy and beautiful and cheerful. There were mosquitoes, erratic electricity supply , extremes of weather , paucity of supplies and provisions at times . Connectivity was often a problem . Medical facilities were often rudimentary .  Yet , when I think back , I rarely remember that . I remember the sense of belonging ; I remember being part of a huge loving family ; I remember the beautifully laid out roads; the thousands of trees marked with brown and white ; greenery and open spaces; fresh air and the thrill in simple pleasures of life.  If there was good times to be enjoyed, one did so heartily and if there were bad times around the corner , one faced them with stoicism . 

I am proud being an Army brat . I would not like to trade it for any other kind of childhood . I am what I am , the way I grew up. Those were the best days…

big boss

Big Boss…

There is a creature called the “Boss”. It comes in various shapes and sizes and many hues. There is a lot of variability in this particular species.  Your existence, professional and often, personal as well is dictated by this creature. It can be a male or a female or sometimes indeterminate. It can   affect you in many ways; good, bad and ugly!

There are Bosses who give you a task and forget about it and only want to be informed when completed. There are others who are micro-managers and will question every step of the task and will involve themselves with each little detail – it would have been easier for all concerned if they had done the job themselves. Some make the performance of a task smooth and graceful; others make it onerous and unpleasant. However , it must be remembered that the only time some people work like a horse is when the Boss is riding them. Some have the ability to render an easily performed job complicated and seemingly impossible. Some breathe down your neck; some don’t let you breathe; some make you breathless!

Some are big hearted and allow you take credit and compliment you generously. There are others who are stingy with compliments and never have an encouraging word to say. There are some who are masters of hogging the credit, for a job done well by you – without a twinge of conscience. There are those who encourage and others, who discourage, discredit and demoralize.  There are some who raise you to the skies and quite easily drop you like a hot potato as well. There are Bosses who are inscrutable and don’t let you peep into what goes on in their mind and then there are some others who are loud and vocal about their feelings and thoughts and let every one around them know what they are thinking!

You may have Bosses who expect you to fawn and suck up and if you don’t ,they feel insecure and agitated .And then you have some who despise sycophancy of any kind and make it clear that they don’t expect any such behavior. There are some who encourage informality and a casual banter and then there are the stiff –upper –lipped species  that won’t be caught smiling or allow anyone to smile. There are those whom you want emulate and then some whom you want to decimate. There are some, for whom, you would be willing to give a limb or life and others whom you would like to push to the other life.

Interestingly, these traits are not gender specific and you could have either the male or the female species behaving either way.  Whether you like it or not, a Boss becomes an integral part of your existence. You can hate her or love him, but ignore you cannot! But, I also like to remind myself that, “Your real Boss is the one who walks around under your hat!”