Gandhi to KBC...

You know what this is about...So let me get to the point straight away.

I watched Slumdog Millionaire a couple of weeks ago. I watched it in Bangalore and could not resist to imagine how this movie will be received by the tinseltown audience else where in the world, Hollywood...

American audience by and large would find this movie very educational, an eye-opener providing a different view of what they may have heard or seen, thanks to the IT outsourced, BPO lifestyle in India.

...Very well researched topic that is shot well in parts of India not normally known to rest of the world, brings out how children live their lives below the poverty line, early induction to drugs, prostitution and the whole nine-yards...truly deserves an oscar nomination...

Thanks to Boyle and his avid portrayal of Dharavi, there will be a flood of International NGOs and Hollywood stars taking ownership and responsibility to fix our slums.

Indian audience, on the other hand, are caught between rooting for an Oscar, the first realistic shot at an Indian winning an Oscar and embarrassment for what they want India to be known for in the world stage.

How diverse viewers feel about this movie – the American and Indian audience.

Depicting Indian poverty, Indian politics, Indian family system and not to forget the story-lines around arranged-marriage are stereo-typical yet compelling scripts normally catering to Oscar judges. Similar to how box-office driven directors add item numbers in the movie catering to the front benchers.

Last time an Indian theme came close to Oscar honors was also when it won - Gandhi. Indian story line with fair share of poverty, religious differences and illiteracy, catering to the history deprived average western audience. Indian audience accepted how India was portrayed in Gandhi as that was history and not a projection of current times.

My reviews – Watch it like any other movie and move on. I want to root for Rehman’s Oscar – frankly I still cant figure out what he scored. I also would want to hide and avoid if this becomes a topic of discussion over dinner with my US colleagues. So a watch, root because it has an Indian-Oscar potential and hide are my slum dog millionaire feelings.

For some it may be hard to digest when India's negatives are projected as art…Is this embarrassment, is this patriotism, shameful helplessness or inability to appreciate art as is without personal prejudice. But isn’t appreciation prejudiced anyways.

I am part of the Middleclass-Mouse turned NRI script…a movie sure to win Oscars soon…this is not about the NRIs and their life in India. But about their illiterate servants, drivers and their affairs in the middle of a busy NRI family who have just moved back to India. There are only 5 back to back songs when the credits are shown, all scored by Rehman - Hollywood version. Indian version dubbed only in 23 languages has credits shown every 10 minutes during the movie to help Rehman win back to back Oscars.

Names and Nuances...

Ever noticed most Indian names have something in common. All girl names invariably end with a vowel and the boy names with a consonant.

I thought about this when I read Know your English column in The Hindu today. The quote at the end said, Always name your child with a vowel at the end - it is easy to yell their name out loud.

This got me thinking and I started to check a few names out that came to my mind as I read the article.
Sudha, Deepa, Priya, Nithya, Vidya, Shilpa, Sruthi, Kaavya, Daksha
Gokul, Sriram, Ganesh, Prakash, Shreyas, Saatvik, Ankit

Guess what, most Indian girl names end in a vowel. Even a 'y' at the end has an 'e' sound most of the times. And most Indian boy names end with a consonant.

It is a no-brainer that a vowel sounds easy to pronounce at the end and flows well compared to the consonant that has an abrupt end to the pronunciation. This is also why boys with nick names most often have their nick name ending in a vowel.

Does this mean...
1. We use girl names more often when we speak and call them out so much that we prefer to name them with easy pronunciations
2. The flow and mellifluous pronunciation jives well with one gender and the abrupt and staccato pronunciation is fitting for the other
and there goes my thought process...

In parallel I tried to Google and see if this observation of mine had more data or theories behind it or was it something that just I have discovered. Of course like always some one had already stumbled on this similarity. Google took me to a website and there I read an interesting (feminist) comment and a strong request to all the would-be Moms...
A lady (see even lady has an e sound at the end) was suggesting all the moms out there to stop naming their new-born girls with names having vowels at the end. Why? Apparently names with vowel-endings sounded weak and made the girls less stronger compared to the boys. A discrimination of some convoluted sort. Names ending with a consonant shows more strength and authority compared to names ending with a vowel which sounds weak was her theory. You know the rest...women standing for women's right blah blah blah. Her observation was based on western names - Sara, Linda, Kelly vs. John, George, Michael

Interesting how names have evolved across cultures and civilizations but still have a few common traits. Yet the reasons and interpretation of why they are the way they are and what they should be are so diverse.

Any other theories on names and their distinct nature for the two genders or may be three in some constituencies...

Wedding...A decade of changes...

I attended a wedding couple of weeks ago. The last one was close to a decade ago. This was my cousin's wedding in Mumbai...ok its my nephew...

Mumbai weddings are always more sophisticated and had its fair share of outsourcing even before call centers and contract jobs hit the IT world. The days when Mama's and Mami's bragged about the Chellappas and Ambis to whom they gave wedding contracts. Big ticket items like cooking and floral arrangements were the ones Mumbai based Tamil community typically outsourced. With time Mumbai weddings have their fair share of originality and uniqueness and continue to be different from the ones that happened else where in the south.

Girls at the entrance with Kalkandu, paneer, poo, chandanam - mostly ponnu side or mapalai side. A combination of small kids and teenage girls - the younger ones going through their first experience of paavadai chattai and the slightly older ones years away from being a bride, draped in saree. The competition to see who gets a chance to be the official one(s)...

The recent wedding I attended had taken outsourcing to another level...it was interesting in Mumbai's own way of the Contract Kalyanam.

New faces for the Welcome greeting - Front Desk, outsourced. I did not recognize the young lady at the entrance and thought this may be one of the cousins or neice I have lost touch with...big smile with out an iota of shyness and a very formal welcome message. Nothing like what I've seen in weddings before. I realized it was outsourced only after I saw more women with the same colored saree. I was glad that we did not make our customary prank right at the entrance. The bold smile and professional welcome probably took our self-confidence away. We walked in with the minimal of acknowledgement and eyes wandering to pick a face we can connect with.

We had men in suits and women in uniformed sarees all over the hall providing refreshments regularly. Later I figured this uniform is on a per day basis and changes from one day to the other - thanks to multiday, multisession weddings we have. The logistics in the hall was outsourced to a local wedding planner, Nirmalyam.

Else where and in old times...one cannot forget mamas with soiled dhoti, wet red towel over one side of their shoulder, open torso and the infamous never-been-white poonal, serve food in the dining area. Walking with a basket of papadams or the ultra small vessel with spoon shell as flat as the handle, mamas pacing fast to serve pachadi on the Elai - a drop or two at best. I am sure we've all had our episodes of the rasam and payasam finding its way out of the elai.

Dining area was the one to remember...no more mamas, no more baskets and of course no more food encroached tables.

We had Nirmalyam ladies instruct and oversee well-dressed waiters serve food. Plates with elai, cups for rasam, sambar, payasam and curd and the impressive plastice cups with sealed lids and straw carrying water. Paper napkins carrying the Nirmalyam logo and to beat it all the after food pan, beeda plate had on its side a stack of Nirmalyam business cards.

I have to admit that the Nirmalyam concept and staff provided me and my brother-in-law with an arsenal of jokes that was well used during the wedding and sure to last till the next one.

We had a wonderful time meeting all our athais, athimbares, cousins, neice and nephews. Cant but wait for the next one.

Unusual Vegas Similarities...

More than once this past month I was reminded of LasVegas...drawn to similarities from two unrelated places I visited.

I flew Kingfisher airlines about a month ago from Bangalore to London, the 5-star airline. Plush red seats, individual touch screen monitors with a variety of entertainment options (Bollywood, Hollywood movies, local and US Sitcoms, games, news and you name it), models handpicked by Mallya as flight attendants , all in a spanking new aircraft.

As you enter, greetings galore every 30 feet by a variety of attendants. The flight was largely empty with many vacant seats in the economy class - the 5 star airline is not really making star profits. After take off and an hr or so into the journey...I wanted to get up, stretch and head to the designated stretch zone in international flights - next to the washrooms. I had one of the front seats before the business class and the restrooms were be a few 10 rows behind. I got up, walked back to the rear of the aircraft to stretch. From the rear, noticed rows of red seats each with brightly lit LCDs hosting the various entertainment menu, organized like a pack of open cards (3 in a row with 3 in each) looking nothing short of casino slot machine displays. Interestingly many empty seats had all their individual montiors in the read side of each seat lit and active. Red seats each with bright slot machine display and attendants serving beverage - How can one not be reminded of LasVegas.

Few weeks later, we drove to Chennai to have children spend time with grandpa and grandma. I had a working week. During my 25+ years of living in Chennai, we have never shopped in the famous T.Nagar area except many be once for my sister's wedding. My wife picked a holiday to go saree shopping with my mom - Day of Vijayadasami. This year Deepavali was just 3 weeks away. I concurred. Why do I need to concur, you may think. Filled with guilt to have come on a holiday to chennai and had to work every single day, I agreed to take them shopping. Yes, my wife, mother and I went to T Nagar for their saree shopping. If you thought the rest of this blog is about me between wife and mom taking sides awkwardly on selections and choices, you've been watching way too many soaps and movies in India lately. The wise one decided to keep the kids and stay back home - for all that grey hair he made this one right choice.

We left at about 1pm to T.Nagar. For those of you in Chennai you know what I am talking about.
This is a stretch of shops, Nalli old and new, Pothys, RMKV, Kumarans and few other lesser known names. Each store having its own architecture and interiors, all posh and flashy in and out. Huge chandeliers, Deities in xxl frames, work force greeting as you enter. Some with tie and badge, some with trousers, some in saree and some others in traditional Dhotis, men and women from the store every 10 feet greeting and running to take the purchase to the counter for payment, sorting out short lists and selections, helping customers pick the right aisle based on what silk from which part of India you want to shop (Mysore, Kanchipuram, Khota, Blah Blah Blah...). I took to a corner to observe as that was the best I could do given the situation. Crowds throng these stores - will be an understatement. People walking all over the T.Nagar main road stretch, hopping from one store to the other...varying building architectures and lightings, posh interiors, greeting staff and extravagant luxury. T.Nagar reminded me of the Vegas Strip.

KingFisher and T.Nagar were my little Vegas look alikes, minus the slot machines and the shows, ofcourse.

Realize your dreams...

At 61 very few get to realize their own dreams come true. Not enjoying the successes of the dreams of their sons and daughters or those of their grandchildren. But their dreams and those dreams they had for themselves. It is one thing to being self-less or taking pride in sacrificing ones own dream for others. Such selfless mindset is noble and I don't dispute that.

This blog is about having the will to realize ones own dream and ability to persevere the goal despite time and age. My mother just finished her Ph.d on Aug 14 2008. A dream she had, a dream she worked towards and most of all a dream she realized.

Dr. E.R.Saraswathi - Doctorate in Sanskrit from the University of Madras

This blog is a dedication to her efforts, perseverance and will to realize her dreams against all odds.

Timelines at a glance:
Completed her Masters in Sanskrit in 1999
Enrolled in her Phd program in 2001
Submitted her thesis in July 2008


A Phd that started around the BK era and lasted till the AS era.
BK - Before Kaavya was born
AS - After Saatvik was born

Along the way many a challenge slowed down the pace but nothing could dent her spirit.
By no stretch of imagination was it easy or simple given the social commitments, domestic responsibilities and the growing senility - let alone the complexity involved and support structure available to research a language that is not spoken or written in modern days.

I was a Ph.D drop out in 96. It is easy to get distracted and it only took a simple first obstacle for me to trade my Ph.D pursuit in a heart beat. May be that wasnt my dream :)

There are many who talk and read about living your dream. This is of course for those who restrict dreams as only a childhood privilege. Dreams are not qualified by age restrictions. My mother had a dream when she was around 50 and a decade later she fulfilled it.

Here is to everyone who have lost, forgotten dreams or who think it is too late to dream. Here is to everyone who think somethings can only be a dream...

A living example of one who has lived to pursue her dream. This is a very proud moment for all of us in our family - our first Doctrate in the family and what a way to get one.

Hats off to you, Mom.

Cows dont have hands...

I've had an interesting few days re-living my experience of taking my 3 year old to school. I am blessed I have a second chance and most likely the last one.

These days I drop Saatvik to school. I did this when Kaavya was in Montessori a few years ago. Without a doubt, the best part of my day...

Couple of days ago as Saatvik and I are in the car heading to school, I hear him say...
"Appa, cow cow..."
"What sound does a Cow make?", pretty stereo-typically, I retort...
"Appa, indha cowku, Kaiye illa"

If you know Saatvik, he has 3 questions that he will ask endlessly - Why, Who, Can you buy this for me...

But this time I know why Saatvik asked me this question. My Driver and I laugh. My driver laughed at how he asked and cant but hug Saat on why he asked. I dont have an answer.

Some days back, I started to teach Saatvik a little more than the alphabets we drive to school. Part of that was to say something more than C for Cat, Cow.

I decided to teach him what the Cow eats.
"Cow eats grass and plants. You know grass...you know cheddy "
He understood that. Asked him a few times so that he remembers and he will respond...
"Cow eats grass and..."
"PPPl", I prompt as he is more comfortable remembering the Tamil word. Lately he remembers them both and will respond with both Grass and Plants. Not to end with it he will also say, Cow gives us milk.

I went ahead said told him that cows eats grass and plants and give us milk.

Saatvik was immediate to correct me the first time he heard me teach that Cow gives milk.

"No, paper mama gives us milk. Not Cow"

He is only aware of the Paper vendor who gives us the news paper and deliver the milk packets as well. It is hard for him to fathom that the cow gives us milk. But I convinced him that the paper uncle gets it from the Cow.

Now you can relate to the observation he made that the Cow had no hands. Cow has no hands, then how can it GIVE milk to us or to the paper uncle - thats his point.

Do I teach Saatvik how Cows dont need hands to give us milk? Or
Do I teach him the difference between the cow GIVING us milk vs. we TAKING milk from the cow...

Interesting as it may seem, this is in some ways a reflection of our evolution - the human evolution. We conveniently teach the kids that all along the Cows willingly GIVE the humans milk to use, when in reality we have always TAKEN without its willful consent.

Some day Saatvik will realize this and wont feel too happy about the versions I have taught him. Should we change some of our communication to allow our next generation get an objective view of things?

Safe-Pedestrians still un-safe during Traffic...

9am at Marathahalli, past the outer ring road overpass...I am on my way to work after dropping my son at school. I am pleasantly surprised at the brisk pace of traffic this morning.

Normally my first big bottleneck is at the Marathahalli junction when I turn towards the Airport Road coming from the outer ring road. I drive past the famous outlet stores where one third of the road is dedicated for the people waiting for BMTC and Corporate buses and the rest for free flowing traffic.

It is common to see pedestrians using the hand signal to stop traffic and weave past the many different vehicles to cross the road. There are many types of hand signals and so much that it can reflect personality traits.

The Shy - slightly hidden hand signal, hands close to the body with wrists and palm close to the thigh showing the stop sign
The Confident - walk briskly with hands stretched out at shoulder level for an authoritative stop sign
The Arrogant - a high hand signal and cannot but bang the car boot as they walk past and
Of course
The indecisives - step down from the median and back a few times before taking the plunge

The one I noticed this morning introduced a new category - call him the confident safe pedestrian. A guy in white kurta, pyjama and with a black helmet using the confident jay walker shoulder level stop signs. We were not moving too fast as it was a stop and go traffic at 9am. I was thinking to myself that this must be Bangalore's most safe pedestrian. I guess he had the bike on the other side of the road and walking across for something. His outfit, helmet and hand signals caught my attention and introduced a new category of jay-walkers. He drew my attention for sure, went past my car, the next one and now to the last lane where cyclist and bikers use the best maneuvers to get past other vehicles.

As he approached the last row a bike runs into him - Two wheeler skids and now there are 3 helmeted heads on the road. The fall was not too serious. The biker blinded by other bigger vehicles did not see Mr.Safe pedestrian crossing and applied the breaks. Of course the hand signal posture did not help the Pedestrian to balance as the bike skids just in front of him. The bike skids, hits the pedestrian and they all fall down.

If someone did not notice the kurta pyjama helmeted pedestrian earlier, they would have mistaken this for the safest triple riding accident ever recorded - 3 helmets getting off the road. I move past and cannot but keep looking at my rear view to confirm if one of them was actually the safe pedestrian.

His white kurta pyjama with black helmet was a dead give-away.

Winner of the safe pedestrian award.