Four Shirts from my Father

Start here

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For the last few people who would have visited my blog. Apologies. I had promised to write about my Love in detail. I wrote my first part and then the second part is pending.  No, the love still remains the same. Just that we got our second baby recently and I have been terribly quoting that as a reason to procrastinate on almost everything. So, do wait and I will get the right mindset to write about my Love journey again.

Meanwhile, something interesting happened in Life. I thought I will better share it with you all. I know all your ears are already ears to know about this cover picture and the article title. But you got to listen to the seven year old pre-story to come to the present-story.

Shirt starts

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Ever since this word called “sustainability” hit me I have been behaving a different animal. I have been watching what I consume day in and out. Not very seriously judging my lifestyle, but seriously observing what I am consuming. Thanks to videos like this by the Story of stuff guys (to quote one of the many who influenced me). I limited the number of cloth I use. While at Chennai, I spent three years with three jeans and half a dozen T-shirts. I got tired of jeans and those jeans understood me well. They also tore apart, mainly in the knees and the buttocks. I rested them in peace.

Then I moved to three pairs of Dhoti and two pairs of cotton pants. The T-shirts didn’t went very well with the Dhoti and pants. So, slowly I accumulated half a dozen shirts. All these were never bought in a day. All are accumulations over a slow period of time, generally one in 4 months or more.

Some months I would iron my shirts, some months I would question my logic of wasting energy in ironing and won’t iron. Three years passed and my shirts kept losing confidence in me. Some shirts attracted serious unwanted attention from friends and well-wishers. May be I was way too beautiful in my dresses. In the lower end, I was rich with too many dhotis. But the cotton pants aren’t good companions. They tore off their knees very soon. I kept them all in Khakhi colors so that I don’t have to think much on my color selection everyday. It is better to keep something fixed everyday. Anyways, there are way too variables in life. Why add a variable in pant color selection.

Birth of our second baby gave a good opportunity for my family to intervene in my dresses. They took away all my dhotis citing the need for good used cotton fabric for the baby. Well they were really well-used for long and were totally soft and safe for the baby. The shirts decided to part away on their own. Ya, I missed to add about the colors I get added to my shirts every now and then. We have this screen printing setup in our office to print on our cloth bags. Every time I cross that area, surprisingly a new color gets added to my shirt. So, some of my multicolored shirts and pants got torn away.

Shirt ends

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After long years of living separately, our family lived with dad and mom for two month. You are right. We need more people when a small baby is born. May be when I was deeply in love with my baby girl, my Dad was seriously concerned about his baby boy(me!!). He advised me to get dressed well. Well, I have given away that well-looking man to the logic of inner beauty and satisfaction. A dress was more of a trouble to maintain for most days except for few days where I wanted to look well. So, Dad went to shop, picked up four fabric which matches the colors that I have been using all these years. He should have observed my shirts for the last six years. Gave the fabric to a tailor along with a sample of a good looking shirt I gifted myself 6 months back. Thus..giving birth to four nice new shirts to me.

I already have three good shirts which my screen printing colleagues are yet to connect with. So, now I have I guess more than half a dozen shirt. I have reserved one for Diwali. Too many shirts now. Don’t want to gift it to anyone as they are gifted with loads of expectation from my dear Dad.

So, no matter we talk minimalism, no matter we talk conscious consumerism, we all get over consumed by the abundance of Love in this earth.

That’s the story of my four new shirts. Happy relationships to you all folks!

Happy Teachers Day

We recently had the Joy of bringing home an ornamental Betta fish. The fish bought in a lot of Joy and excitement to our five year old daughter. We started thinking of a name for the fish. As adults, we started suggesting typical pet names like ‘jumbo’, ‘micky’ and as a child she started suggesting various sounds like ‘kiya muki’, ‘mee keere’ and it went on without a decision.

Suddently she shouted “Mythili”. She said “let us call it Mythili”. We asked her “why?”. She responded “It is the name of my teacher at Bodhana. I like her.” Such is the love kids can show to good teachers.  

Happy Teachers Day!

The Uneducated Education System

Straight to the point. There are three incidents which made me write define today's education as "The uneducated education system".

1.       There was a natural calamity in my mind when I read this. "Life on this planet earth depends upon a variety of goods and services provided by the nature, which are known as Natural Resources" This is from a book on Environment education meant for Engineering students. Almost all Engineers coming under AICTE would have read this.

In what sense does the author defines natural resources as products and services. Are they consumables? If the student understand  water as a good and clean air as a service, then God help the Planet.

2.       This was written in an UKG kids book. "What does the cow give for us?", "What does the Honeybee give for us?".

Only a semi-literate can write such sentences. Are we teaching the kids that the cow and honeybee has no other job than creating milk and honey for us?. We take it from them. That is the fact. There is a lot of emotional difference between someone giving us something and we taking it from them. The system tends to teach the kids that we are supreme over all the other living organisms. Sirs and madams, Please teach them inclusiveness, inter-dependence and not dominance.

3.       A fifth standard kid approached me to help him in his school project, He has to build a wind mill model. He said he has a small motor using which he can rotate the windmill. I had to explain him that wind mill runs on wind and hence he can probably use the motor to create a fan to generate artificial wind in the model. Windmill running on motor will defeat the purpose of doing the model.

He went on to check with his teacher and the teacher disapproved of doing it as I suggested. She simply said that is not the way to make a model. The wind mill ran on a battery powered motor and there was a model done which looked like a windmill but behaved as something else. Long live the application based learning method which sells well today, but doesn't get implemented the way it should be.

The uneducated education system trying to educate the next generation. God help!

I have God in my stomach

-A father's note as noticed from his 4 year old little daughter.

It wasn't a regular weekend. My wife and I were completely occupied with meetings and local traveling for two days and came to rest only by 12 midnight on the Sunday night. Our 4 year old daughter was with us for most part and she too got to sleep only by that time. She got to go to school by 9.00am the next day.

12th Jan 2015: We got to wake up by 7.30am atleast to set things right for the day. It didn't happen so. It was 8.00am when we woke up. We could wake her up by 8.30am and she wanted to watch the rhymes video which she has asked me to buy the previous day. She was still sleepy but demanding for the video. We haven't shown her nursery video's for long time now. I knew it wouldn't be possible for me to win over her on the video issue. I allowed her to watch. We weren't sure of sending her to school and we decided not to send her to school that day.

By 9.00am, may be her biological clock indicated her that she should be at school. On a casual note, we indicated her that the kids at School might be preparing for Pongal celebration. May be she realized what she is missing on. May be, she also realized that she should have woken up early to be at School. She started crying, slowly but loudly. It wasn't a regular cry demanding something. It was the sound of a genuine guilt from the heart. Her guilt couldn't settle down soon.

She blames us in many situations where we  miss to buy her something. Today, she did not blame us.  She was definitely blaming herself. She couldn't stop crying. I offered a hug. She rejected it. Instead, she opted to move a little away from us. She moved to another room. She kneeled down and bent down. With her heads touching the ground, she wept for minutes together. Then, she kneeled towards the Pooja shelf. The shelf was open and we have different idols of God. She folded her hands. She stopped weeping for a second. She then stood up, folded her hands and started weeping again. She was in that posture for a lengthy few seconds. I watched all these without she noticing me. I managed to take a silent picture. Is she praying to God? I am not sure if she knows about praying to God. Her routine with God is just about stopping by and wearing the scared ash on the forehead. Occasionally singing a sloka or touching our feet for blessings. I am not sure if she knows God as someone who could heal her, help her.

She came back to the hall and then we could convince her with food. She was emotionally down for having missed her school. She turned back to silence in about an hour. I was still curious to know of her interaction with God. I asked her once "What did you do at the Pooja Shelf?". She opted not to respond. I did not insist. I know that she will let me know on another occasion.

I left for office before she could completely recover. I requested my wife to ask her about what she did at the Pooja shelf.  She asked it to her post noon when she was completely recovered. The little one did not respond. My wife too did not insist. Post noon, her day went on as cheerful as any other day.

I met her again in the evening. We were talking about something and happened to be in the same Pooja shelf room. I sat at the same position where she sat in the morning. She sat next to me. I wanted to make an attempt to get my question clarified. I decided to ask her the same question one last time. "What did you do at the Pooja Shelf today morning?"

This time, I was lucky. She has recovered well to talk about it. She said "I prayed to God. I asked God to take me to School. I also asked God to wake me up early." I was confused, how could a four year old end up to God as her last resort. May be the issue of missing School on the day before Pongal celebration is so important to her. May be the most important thing in her life at that moment.

I asked a follow up question "What did God say?" She said "God said OK. God also prayed back at me." I asked "Why did the God pray at you?". She said " I have God in my stomach. Hence God prayed to me. We all have a God in our stomach. God prays at it".  I said OK and discontinued that conversation.

I am still amazed at how could a little girl be so excited about School. May be, her school follows Montessori methods which keeps the children first and respects them. She can't do injustice to the school by missing it. May be she misses all her friends and fun.

I am still amazed at how could a little girl have her own understanding of the concept of God. She knows that God isn't a fairy tale. If so, she should have prayed to Chotta Bheem and not to God.

I realized kids do have strong emotions and a stronger understanding of reality. It is just that adults couldn't see their reality as real. Can we understand what she meant as "I have God in my stomach."?

Every Bag Has a Story to Tell

Charmi agreed to be the model
and promote this bag

There is a bearded, well mannered old man in Madurai. He has inherited the art of making cloth canvas bags. For three generations he says, his family has survived on this business. His bags are not for the very rich, but for the traders who need a strong companion to carry their stuff.

He goes to the cloth market and sources good quality canvas cloth. He is worried as the price per kg of this cloth has shooted above Rs.200. This old man in his early fifties brings the cloth home in a cycle (the cycle looks half as old as him).  He carefully cuts it and stitches to make awesome bags like the one shown in this picture.

He carries couple of dozens in his cycle. Hangs them in the front handle bar. He has made it the right size so that the bags can swing , but not touch the front wheels of the cycle. It is a customer expectation for him. His customers will not buy if it is long and could touch the front wheel. Now, he says it is a market standard size for these bags.

His place of business lies about 9kms from his house. He does not ride his cycle. He just walks with the cycle. Walking with the cycling slows him down, but attracts the passers by and shop keepers. He could sell 1 or 2 bags on the way to his place of business. He reaches his place of business by 9.00am. He makes sure he is ready to be there till 7.00pm. It is an old and dynamic trading spot. You could see people selling everything from onions to ornaments. The sellers and the buyers would need a bag. His bags are not sold in super markets or in the shops. They all have moved on to plastic bags. Those who see the value of Rs.120 in his bag are his customers. They negotiate and he will be happy to sell it at Rs.110.

Once the sale is made, he makes a value addition. He says, "I can attach rivets to the handle. My bags are strong enough , but the rivets will make it stronger for ever". If the customer is convinced with this sales pitch, our bag maker earns Rs.10 extra.

At the end of the day, he is happy to sell 4 or 5 bags. I asked him, "Why not 40 or 50 bags a day?". He replied "These are expensive bags, do you expect to sell 40 or 50?". I saw the business-man missing in him, but I could see a man who loves his livelihood. He has to now walk back the 9kms home. I asked him, why not leave the goods and cycle somewhere nearby. He says, that will cost me Rs.25 a day. Why spend that when I can make some extra money by walking my way back.

Do you want to meet him? You should  go to Thermutti in Madurai. You could locate a cycle  on the platform near the first Ther (Temple Car).  You might see a cheerful, bearded old man with colorful bags near that cycle. He says, I'm open 9.00am to 7.00pm every day.

Such wonderful people, makes us believe further in our www.theyellowbag.org initiative. Happy to be the messenger.

Me, Madurai and Mock Interviews

I belong to a culturally rich city called Madurai in Tamilnadu, India. It has been 10 years since I moved out of the city with a B.Sc degree. Going back to my roots is an idea I am nourishing ever since I moved out. I have been working with people in various capacities over these years. As a specialist in Training and Development, my primary job with Corporates is to develop people and make them skilled for the Job they are expected to perform.

I learn from experiences. When I look back, I am amazed at how I have acquired the required skills in the last ten years. I think, developing others have helped me grow as a Professional. I would sincerely love to take back these skills to my native and work for the development of the student community there. When I was a student in 2003, I would have loved to have someone like the current me as a mentor. I didn't get any. In 2014, I should give that opportunity to the students who would love to make use of me. I can mentor, guide and help them to get a good launch pad.

With this in mind, I scheduled a mock interview session for students in Madurai. A mock interview will provide students with a real experience of an interview. It will help them evaluate their strength and weakness. During my MBA days in Gurgaon, I have benefited extensively through such interventions by the college.

17 students from various colleges in Madurai signed up for the mock interview. I was feeling extremely happy and fulfilled after meeting them all over a period of three days. I spent about 30 to 40 minutes with every student. Asked them questions to understand their logical thinking, basic technical and communication skills. The small house that my Dad built long back helped us as a free venue. My Alma mater, Sourashtra College gave their classroom for one of the interview days.

Here is an analysis of their performance:

Here are the shockers:

1. The quality of students have not changed in the last 10 years. Most of them sounded like me and my friends ten years back. We were under-qualified to get a Job then.
2. Even today,listening to movie songs is their primary Hobby. They do not have any other hobby.
3. Most were unable to answer basic technical questions from their specialization.
4. Huge vacuum in their ability to relate concepts to practical applications

There is one good news too:

1. Everyone showed great interest in improving their employability. Unfortunately, those who are supposed to guide them(Teachers,Parents) do not have the required exposure. Hence, students alone can not be blamed.

What would they need:

I will have to spend more time with them to be precise at explaining their need. Till that time, I think they will need the following:

1. Someone to mentor them on choosing a career path

2. Exposure through practicing professionals

3. Self development interventions on communication skills

4. Freedom from their parents and the society to think as they wish
5. Better teaching staff who can create an interest than just cover the lesson plan

I am determined to work on the first three needs. Have to make better use of my time to be able to do that. Hope I can, as I want to...

Here is the next Mock interview schedule(24th to 26th April) and registration form. If you are a student or know of a needy student, please use this opportunity. 

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1Tjghb12ycGONwQvUrxPjCG1t7fErSrkmHY60ZKHhMVM/viewform

Monkey to Man to Donkey

Thanks to Monkeys we are now Men. Thanks to Men we are now Donkeys.

You know something..Indian economy is now travelling on Donkeys. If Donkeys are not there we would have been an underdeveloped nation for ever. I’m sure that none of our readers have the time to sue me if I name our economy as “Donkey economy”.

Now let us define Donkey economy “An economy which is driven by donkeys; where donkeys are the working people who can carry loads that no real donkey can imagine about. Wherein drivers of the economy (organizations) know that these donkeys can be loaded till their backbones break. Interestingly even if it breaks, it can be loaded with what it can carry.”

So..How much load are you carrying in a day?

Initially you get excited with the load, till the time you realize that the load is filled with waste clothe bundled in a clean silk cloth. When you are hired you are shown with the silk cloth, you say the same to others & you are immersed in a silky dream. Suddenly when you peep in to the bundle, you find more excitement..Wow..Shit spread clothes which can never be cleaned; grandfather’s clothes which are inherited for years; new clothes designed in the name of innovation which none other than a Spiderman or superman can wear. Hey..I am talking about the components of an employee’s role.

What does your role comprise of?

Farewell Feelings.. not so fare

party at night
Originally uploaded by alfadone75

I have earlier discussed about my experience with winter in this place. Here winter enlightens me again.

Last Friday was our much expected farewell party. All it began with a poll for titles like Mr/Ms Congeniality, Mr/Ms Flirt, best buddies, best couple, style icon etc.,. Indians are born politicians, the contestants proved it. The online poll turned into an online defame before the authorities interrupted and closed the story.

The time was 7.00PM; it was an open air party and the temperature was cold enough to compel you to get into a quilt. Still the brave hearts of my college came in with their own intention. My only intention was to eat something which is not aaloofied. I prefer to eat food with LIFE. The honorable Director says a strict no no to non-vegetarian food inside the college. Our fellow students were compelled to eat the food made of leaves, seeds, milk, roots and stem (Vegetarian- A food without LIFE).

My friend’s intention was to catch some colours. The community of boy-girl researchers have coined this special term ‘colour’ to refer girls. Their explanation is as follows “A colour is something which can guide people (traffic light colours) and a colour is the same thing which can destroy people (distractive colours). Since girls have the same qualities, they are referred as colours”. (Possibly worlds most stupid explanation..)

Many came with the intention of exchanging their final formal goodbye. Though I believe that orkut is the antonym for good bye. My entire batch is either orkut arrested or orkut addicted, hence there is no need to say good bye. The whole event went as an usual farewell party, some one speaking on the stage, some one playing music and making people dance and someone spending money for all these. There are few interesting findings that I made during this time. These would help me a lot in my ongoing boy-girl research. I am sharing the same here;

Men and women compliment each other perfectly: As it is farewell, women were emotional and were allowing water to exit their body as tears. Men too were emotional, but were allowing water to enter their body as booze.

Women are winter resistant: I could see men in their full suits with enough protection to withstand the cold. Women on the other end were as usual, sarees in their sexiest form or in western party wears. This makes me believe that there should be a skin cream which is winter resistant or their skin itself is winter resistant.

Men’s clock and Women’s clock show different time: The party was supposed to start at 4.00PM and men walked in at 5.30PM to avoid the speeches delivered by the honorable staff members. Women walked in at 7.00PM in order to turn on the party. Women should have been convincing their Mirror till then.

Food attracts both; Men eat and Women see: The sight of food being served attracted the crowd. Irrespective of the gender, men and women started walking towards the food zone. After few minutes, men were seen eating and women were seen holding their plates.

Ends here. IBS readers looking for a more detailed article on this farewell may visit our college forum by clicking here.

Auto..Auto..Oi Auto!

I do not know why, but these three wheeled auto rickshaws fascinate me a lot. The vehicle is unique and so are their drivers. They form an important part of the culture of a city. You might have come across reviews that are given for free like “Bangalore Autos’ Oh! They are horrible, they don’t give any respect. They don’t come if the distance is short”; “Chennai Auto’s! Cheaters, they don’t talk in Hindi”; “Delhi Auto’s! They never use the meter, they charge as they wish”. I surprise as to why these Autos are blamed for their driver’s mistakes. Poor Auto’s .. uch…ch..ch..

A normal Auto that we have seen so far can be narrated as follows;

• A three wheeled motored metal box with no doors
• A scooter with ceiling
• A vehicle in which you save time and loose energy
• A vehicle to travel if you have a girlfriend and don’t have your own vehicle
• A vehicle with a meter which is fixed to fix the fare
• A vehicle which can be used as a joy ride in Disney land

When time comes, every opinion, every stereotype will be shattered (For effect: Imagine your pc monitor shattering into pieces). My opinion about Auto was shattered on my visit to Jodhpur, a famous city in Rajasthan, India.

The Autos here can be really called as palace on three wheels (Thanks for the Indian Railways; it was easy for me to name it). I clicked few pictures for you. Sharing the same here….

Front View: I think these Autos are considered feminine. I have seen these two golden tails hanging in thre front somewhere else..Ya..It represents rettai jada (twin pony tail)

Internal: Driver with a hands free mobile (Safe driving). The men inside the photo frame are Himesh Reshamia and his fan. What is he doing here? He is the owner.

Side view: Curves at the right points. Covered enough and left enough. I mean this auto.

Above the driver: You would have seen Lord Shiva and few mirrors, but it also has a radio and cassette player, two loud speakers and a mini locker. (Likely competitor to Tata's one lac car)

The only thing that I missed is to test drive them. Will not miss during my next trip.

The Aaloo Muni

A lot of potatoes . . .
Originally uploaded by alliecat393

Heard about Aaloo?

Aaloo (Potato in Angrezi (English in English)) is yet another vegetable in my Madurai home. I like Aaloo in fried form, I like it when my Amma cuts it into even little pieces and fries it with oil. There were days where I had threatened Amma that I will not eat lunch without that. Little do I know that my whole life will be Aaloofied in the future.

Cut May 2006, I moved to this place called NCR (Gurgaon to be precise). I know that I have to sacrifice my old eating habits including 8 idlis dipped in sambar. Three box lunch set to office which contains almost everything that a typical Tamilian marriage lunch may have. Half a dozen coffee or tea which I use to dissolve the food and produce energy. A lot more goes unsaid as I couldn’t resist my temptation beyond this..

Here in Gurgaon, I get Aaloo bujia in my breakfast. Aaloo ka sabji for lunch. Aaloo dum for dinner. In between if I feel like having a quick snacks, I have Aaloo filled samosa. Thank God there is no Aaloo tea or Aaloo coffee. There are good days when my cook brings some non-Aaloo vegetable. He is kind enough to make that day equally bad by mixing Aaloo to that (Aaloofication). Aaloo with green leaves, Aaloo with cabbage, Aaloo with ladies finger and Aaloo with every other vegetable that you can get in the world. I don’t know why this region is filled with Aaloo manias.

Enough is enough! I asked my cook for an explanation. He used an analogy, which motivated me to write this post. “Aaloo is like Narada muni”, I went crazy, how can Narada, the trouble maker for Indian God’s be linked to a vegetable. “Narad gets into every ones life and creates problem, similarly Aaloo is mixed with every vegetable to create problem”. Yes a big problem for me!

After being troubled by this Aaloo syndrome, I am now in problem solving mode. I have three solutions (oh God, I have to think about it now);

1. Hire a doctor and pay him to say on TV “An Aaloo a day makes me healthy and wealthy”. Wise people will get his point and stop eating Aaloo. (Production of Aaloo will stop)

2. Hire a priest and pay him to say in public meetings “Wearing garlands made of Aaloo will result in long political life”. (All politicians and their followers will buy the entire production, little left for poor people like me)

3. Hire a Vaastu expert and pay him to write a book titled Aaloo ghar. It essentially says “Dig a big hole in the East, West, North, South, South east, South west and all other possible combinations of your home. Rot and dump 100 kgs of Aaloo in those holes. Your family will stay wealthy for the next 5 years, repeat it to renew this for 5 more years”(Every one will dig, leaving nothing to eat)

Public like me, affected by Aaloo are welcome to participate in this effort :)

An angry post

I started this blog with the intention that I will post regularly. Being in the final semester of this MBA course, after getting placed, any normal student is supposed to chill. The system is not allowing me to do so. I am very angry now. Any one who is reading this post in search of some fun, please don’t read it. If you want to really enjoy this post then better bring 100 grams of red chilly powder, sprinkle it on your monitor and eat a tablespoon of the same. Done? Now, you are ready to read this post. Continue reading!

My first enemy is the service marketing professor who spoiled my dates with my blog by giving a dating assignment. Our group has to give a case presentation on Match.com, the world’s largest online dating portal (though half a dozen more portals claim to be so). We had to make a study on how they lure their customer and what kind of services they offer. As usual more than two days were spoiled because I have to mentally prepare myself to work. Finally when I was prepared, I had to deliver it in front of a class which was more interested in dating than listening to a dating case. Who cares for how they date in US and the UK, when it is tough to get a date in the same college.

Our effort didn’t go in drain. Our presentation was finally well received by the professor. Except for the question which made me think that I should have visited more porn sites than visiting review and dating sites. His question was in sync with my earlier post. Simple question “What is the difference between lesbian and gay?”. This happened to be a question which I could remember for a lifetime. May be I will highlight it in my resume as one of my qualities “Ability to answer sick questions”. Anyways I answered it with a typical MBA touch. An MBA’s answer is one which is clear as one’s head but invisible as one’s brain (I know that you didn’t understand anything, but this is called as a typical MBA’s answer).

Story of the dating case ends there, whereas other horror stories are waiting for me. Tomorrow is the day for one more presentation. Now, I want to know that gentleman/ woman (I don’t give room for feminist or masculinist) who invented this process called as presenting something on stage. You go well dressed only to look like a clown, you can not publicly give galis to those who talk in between and disturb, and you have to keep a smile in your face even though your urinary bladder is laughing at you. Ufff! A presentation tomorrow. I have loads of interesting things to write in my blog. I want to share with you my experiences while circumnavigating Pragati maidan, a story on Aloo becoming Narada muni, a few funny dressing sense that I have observed of late, what it takes to live with a room mate who don’t have a girlfriend and a few exciting news about professors. Wait for that. I will write once I am free…

The Five Rupee people

Full
Originally uploaded by GavinZ

In B-Schools they teach us many concepts like Value for Money, Customer Value etc., etc.,

Hey…They even teach us Human Values. Don’t misunderstand them to organ traders, here we mean something else. But, on my way to college everyday, I find one more kind of Value that is given to Humans.

My way to college is a two kilometer ride by Gurgaon’s own share auto system. Here every woman/man (Bach gaya baba) is of equal Value. The one manned vehicle which is in between the size of an auto and a mini truck is the only public transport here. Though people claim that they have buses running, I am yet to witness one.

The best part of these autos is that no passenger is superior, no caste system and no reservations. All are of equal value. Five Rupees to be exact! This is irrespective of where you board and where you de-board; Irrespective of where you sit in the auto. The Five rupee way to keep India united!

A conventional auto is designed to seat 3 + driver, a SUV may seat 7 + driver. Can you imagine how many can these share auto carry? By my best number crunching ability (Allow me to use my 20 fingers) it is 3+4+4+4 and ya..the driver. Making it a maximum of 16! But how? Those who don’t know the answer take a pen and pencil and draw this picture in your mind. Driver sir (The only free rider Rs.0) sits in his seat. Two more people to his left (Rs.10) and one to his right (Rs.5). In the back seat we have four more people (Rs.20). Now, call it efficient engineering or optimal utilization of available space, they have designed a seat in between. There sits four more travelers like me (Rs.20). Keep your WOWs under control, we have the backyards left. This is traditionally the space that is used for keeping luggage. They have designed it to seat four more (Rs.20).
Readers..Add everything. It comes to 15 people or rupees 75 to be exact!

Makes Good sense for the driver as well as the passengers as long as you are insured and have your succession planning perfect!

This thing called Winter

There is nothing called as winter in my native place (Madurai). I remember very hot days, hot days and not so hot days. The maximum that we do in those so called winter months is that we tune the fan regulator to run in speed level 2 or 3. There is nothing to worry beyond that.

Living in NCR is altogether different. Here winter melts down to single digit temperature also, something that is never seen in Tamilnadu. The fog, chill breeze, fully covered girls (strange but true) and kids dressed up with colourful woolen clothes are something that interests me. Roadside shops selling hot egg rolls and our dear Indians from east (I don’t call them east Indians) selling momos and soups are something that an average homo sapiens like me can not resist.

I have some daring experience with this thing called as winter. Last season was my first encounter. I didn’t know its severity. It was one night during last year’s early winter period. Three of us went in the second ones bike to the fourth ones home to eat chicken which was cooked for all four of us. Entire arrangement was made by the fourth one who promised us a quick party. After literally cleaning the vessel with our fingers the fourth one did his best with is tongue.

It was 1.00AM and the happy trio planned a return. As we reached the gate, we could feel that situation is not fine. The road was filled with some kind of smoke which I have seen earlier in my Grandma’s kitchen. The only difference between these two is that my Grandma’s kitchen smoke was hot & this one is…..deadly cold. The other two said that this is called as fog. My first encounter with fog!

We were badly prepared for such weather since the trio is new to this place. We borrowed a long bedsheet from the fourth one and sheltered ourselves. Still we were freezing and I could find tears in my eyes. That was the first day in which I realized that I have done some act of kindness. I have saved a chicken from this freezing cold. It is resting in peace inside my stomach.