I finished reading “One night @ the Call Center” last night. I enjoyed it a lot as it was a very easy read and mostly entertaining. Calling it a novel maybe a stretch, but I was happy to read a something by an Indian author that will not be nominated for the Booker Prize.
I usually lament with a couple of my Indian born friends who are also avid readers about the lack of mindless Indian novels. Most books by “Indian” authors are dense. It is a saga about this lady who misses the river and the mango tree and her grandmother’s chutney while walking down the streets of New York to meet her daughter and her white boyfriend at Columbia University. Again, they romanticize and celebrate India similar to Bollywood movies. They have titles like “Inheritance of loss” or “Interpreter of Maladies” or “The God of small things”. I have enjoyed each of the books mentioned here. And they have either won or have been nominated for the Booker or the Pulitzer.
I have read books by Salman Rushdie, who I think deserves the Nobel Prize for literature. But, say there is a situation in his book, where a boy wants to go out with a girl. Rushdie can go on and on, bringing up the Mahabharata and the Iliad and Sigmund Freud and 20 pages later you are confused as to what you were reading about.
It took me just a couple of nights to finish “One night @ the Call Center”. It was funny and contemporary with well developed characters. It tries to delve into some of the aspects of this new generation of Indians. They make money working odd hours using a different name, rather a different persona. They put up with the abuse dished out by the “stupid fat Americans” while saving a lot of money for the companies. The author does tend to go a little overboard with his criticism of America and Americans. An “Easter egg” in Microsoft Word has an important role, but is incorrectly referred to as a “bug”. The end is a bit cheesy like a Bollywood movie. Incidentally it is being made into one, with 45 year old Salman Khan, fresh from another hair transplant, playing the main 25 year old character.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Dyslexia and Bollywood
I started noticing a spate of articles on Dyslexia in various publications during this stay. I was pleasantly surprised and happy that it is being acknowledged as a problem in India. Most of the articles were rational and compassionate. This, in a nation where a few years back the Minister of Health said that AIDS was not a problem in India as we had better morals. It is now accepted that AIDS is an “epidemic” here.
This education on Dyslexia began with the hit Bollywood movie from last year called Taare Zameen Par (Stars on Earth). It is directed by Amir Khan, one of the few people in Bollywood who actually likes and understands the medium of cinema. I have not seen this movie yet, but there are special screenings almost every day with more people getting curious about this issue.
This has been one of my pet peeves when it comes to Bollywood. Its power and reach is something that could be put to good use from time to time. The Bollywood community is mostly a tightly knit, in-bred group which leads a life style that is vastly different from the values portrayed in the movies. There are divorces, couples living together before marriage, single moms and even bigamy. Most spend a lot of time living abroad while making movies frowning upon the heathen western lifestyle. It has become a propaganda machine for Indian values and this false propaganda is perpetuated by those who do not believe or practice it.
Cinema is primarily entertainment and most of the Bollywood movies supposedly offer an escape for the masses. But it is also arrogant to assume that your audience is stupid and just wants to see song and dance sequences and the same story line over and over again. Most of the Bollywood movies bomb and these geniuses are still trying to figure out why. I hope since a movie about dyslexia was a hit, more movies covering other issues are made from time to time in Bollywood.
This education on Dyslexia began with the hit Bollywood movie from last year called Taare Zameen Par (Stars on Earth). It is directed by Amir Khan, one of the few people in Bollywood who actually likes and understands the medium of cinema. I have not seen this movie yet, but there are special screenings almost every day with more people getting curious about this issue.
This has been one of my pet peeves when it comes to Bollywood. Its power and reach is something that could be put to good use from time to time. The Bollywood community is mostly a tightly knit, in-bred group which leads a life style that is vastly different from the values portrayed in the movies. There are divorces, couples living together before marriage, single moms and even bigamy. Most spend a lot of time living abroad while making movies frowning upon the heathen western lifestyle. It has become a propaganda machine for Indian values and this false propaganda is perpetuated by those who do not believe or practice it.
Cinema is primarily entertainment and most of the Bollywood movies supposedly offer an escape for the masses. But it is also arrogant to assume that your audience is stupid and just wants to see song and dance sequences and the same story line over and over again. Most of the Bollywood movies bomb and these geniuses are still trying to figure out why. I hope since a movie about dyslexia was a hit, more movies covering other issues are made from time to time in Bollywood.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Women's Day: What about those poor boys?
Today, March 8, 2008, is International Women’s Day. There has been so much hype surrounding this in India. In fact, they have managed to turn this into Women’s week. There are sales, events, editorials and TV programs.
There were special supplements in most newspapers where there was coverage on both sides of the issue. The progress that has been made and also the plight of women in rural India. As usual there are numbers thrown around about the male-female ratio, infanticide etc.
An aspect that seems to have been missed or dismissed, when bringing up the issue of the plight of girls and women in rural India. My driver is from a village in Jharkand. He has an elder son and a daughter. He wants his son to move to Mumbai as soon as he is 18, so that he too can start earning. That way they can start saving for the wedding of his daughter. What about the boy's future?
Why does he want his daughter married off? He is worried about her safety among other things. There are articles written about how the son gets first dibs at dinner and the women eat what is left. Well, for this boy who is 14, it is not going to last long. In a few years, he will move out to Mumbai and start earning. He has a tough life ahead as he toils away and probably gets married and lives a similar life, like his father. But, for now he gets to call his dad while he is driving around Mumbai, asking him to send him a shirt for his Birthday. His dad could not do that.
The plight of women is important and still remains an issue in any society: Indian or American. But when you throw in poverty, it becomes more of a child issue and maybe not a boy or a girl issue.
There were special supplements in most newspapers where there was coverage on both sides of the issue. The progress that has been made and also the plight of women in rural India. As usual there are numbers thrown around about the male-female ratio, infanticide etc.
An aspect that seems to have been missed or dismissed, when bringing up the issue of the plight of girls and women in rural India. My driver is from a village in Jharkand. He has an elder son and a daughter. He wants his son to move to Mumbai as soon as he is 18, so that he too can start earning. That way they can start saving for the wedding of his daughter. What about the boy's future?
Why does he want his daughter married off? He is worried about her safety among other things. There are articles written about how the son gets first dibs at dinner and the women eat what is left. Well, for this boy who is 14, it is not going to last long. In a few years, he will move out to Mumbai and start earning. He has a tough life ahead as he toils away and probably gets married and lives a similar life, like his father. But, for now he gets to call his dad while he is driving around Mumbai, asking him to send him a shirt for his Birthday. His dad could not do that.
The plight of women is important and still remains an issue in any society: Indian or American. But when you throw in poverty, it becomes more of a child issue and maybe not a boy or a girl issue.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
India #1: What do Karan Johar and Amaratya Sen have in common?
As I mentioned I have been reading books by so called Indian born intellectuals touting India. I stopped watching Bollywood flicks that tout Indian values and Indian culture some time back.
For those fortunate enough to have not watched the Bollywood blockbusters, here is how it works. A typical movie would be set in London where there is this Ferrari driving kid of Indian origin whose dad had humble origins. He loves India and anything Indian. So he decides to travel around Europe. Women fall on him and there are songs that show skimpy women gyrating to some Bhangra/hip-hop beats. He dances with them but remains an “Indian” at heart. He meets this Indian girl who works for the Sydney Symphony. She too is in Europe because she loves India. A couple of songs follow, one set in Sydney and the other in Amsterdam. They might even discuss the utter lack of morals in the west and how they love India. Anyway, after a lot of twists and turns, they have a lavish wedding in Paris and settle down in Geneva. He is now a banker and since she wanting to do something for the kids on the streets of India, decides to teach ballet to kids of wealthy Swiss bankers. This is usually referred to as a “script” in Bollywood parlance. This refreshingly new script could have been developed by India Lover Karan Johar who spends most of his time outside India since he loves India so much and is a patriot. The name of the movie could be India #1.
Now, for those of you who have been lucky to not lay your hands on Nobel Prize winning economist Amratya Sen’s rant titled “The Argumentative Indian”. This usually involves an Indian with multiple degrees preferably one each from Oxford and Harvard, or Cambridge and Yale or any other combination. He has spent around 30-40 years in the West either as a successful executive, but mostly as a tenured professor. He then decides to get a gig in India and gets a bungalow and a chauffeured A/C car. He gets a hefty pay and keeps travelling to conferences abroad. He may even be on the chair of a couple of NGOs and may have an opinion column in a leading newspaper. He will spew some jargon which is a mix of his take on some archaic ancient Indian texts and the current GDP of India, similar to what is in his bestselling book. He will somehow make a connection between the two in a column and fill it with other meaningless numbers and figures, more of which you could read in his aptly titled book, "India #1".
As for me, I have spent more than a month here. I do have a chauffeured A/C car at my disposal. The driver earns Rs 4000 a month (around $100). He lives with 4 more drivers in a room. Their families are in their native villages as he says they would have to move to a slum if they bring them to Mumbai. I get to read my newspaper during the hour or so it takes to travel 5 miles in Mumbai these days. I am still trying to figure out if I got a little lucky or everything is so great here that India is indeed #1.
For those fortunate enough to have not watched the Bollywood blockbusters, here is how it works. A typical movie would be set in London where there is this Ferrari driving kid of Indian origin whose dad had humble origins. He loves India and anything Indian. So he decides to travel around Europe. Women fall on him and there are songs that show skimpy women gyrating to some Bhangra/hip-hop beats. He dances with them but remains an “Indian” at heart. He meets this Indian girl who works for the Sydney Symphony. She too is in Europe because she loves India. A couple of songs follow, one set in Sydney and the other in Amsterdam. They might even discuss the utter lack of morals in the west and how they love India. Anyway, after a lot of twists and turns, they have a lavish wedding in Paris and settle down in Geneva. He is now a banker and since she wanting to do something for the kids on the streets of India, decides to teach ballet to kids of wealthy Swiss bankers. This is usually referred to as a “script” in Bollywood parlance. This refreshingly new script could have been developed by India Lover Karan Johar who spends most of his time outside India since he loves India so much and is a patriot. The name of the movie could be India #1.
Now, for those of you who have been lucky to not lay your hands on Nobel Prize winning economist Amratya Sen’s rant titled “The Argumentative Indian”. This usually involves an Indian with multiple degrees preferably one each from Oxford and Harvard, or Cambridge and Yale or any other combination. He has spent around 30-40 years in the West either as a successful executive, but mostly as a tenured professor. He then decides to get a gig in India and gets a bungalow and a chauffeured A/C car. He gets a hefty pay and keeps travelling to conferences abroad. He may even be on the chair of a couple of NGOs and may have an opinion column in a leading newspaper. He will spew some jargon which is a mix of his take on some archaic ancient Indian texts and the current GDP of India, similar to what is in his bestselling book. He will somehow make a connection between the two in a column and fill it with other meaningless numbers and figures, more of which you could read in his aptly titled book, "India #1".
As for me, I have spent more than a month here. I do have a chauffeured A/C car at my disposal. The driver earns Rs 4000 a month (around $100). He lives with 4 more drivers in a room. Their families are in their native villages as he says they would have to move to a slum if they bring them to Mumbai. I get to read my newspaper during the hour or so it takes to travel 5 miles in Mumbai these days. I am still trying to figure out if I got a little lucky or everything is so great here that India is indeed #1.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
How many Indians do you need to repair an air-conditioning unit?
In the office where I work, one of the air conditioning units conked off. This was being fixed over the last couple of days. There was a swarm of around 5-6 guys who hung around for nearly 6 hours after which they took off. Another day with 5-6 guys in the hallway jabbering away on their cell phone and voila, the A/C was fixed.
I was reminded of another A/C project I undertook last summer when I was here. My parents were scared to get a unit fixed in the living room. Since I had been out of the country for a while, I naively undertook this project. What followed gives me nightmares to this day. It began innocently enough. My close friend's friend sells electronic goods. I called him and ordered a unit and gave him my Amex card number. My mom pleaded with me, saying I still had a chance to back off. I waved her off, saying this is how the new India worked and we would be eating lunch and watching TV as the A/C was humming along. I think she left for the temple to pray for me.
The installation was sub contracted to this guy who called and said he would be come in at 11:00 am. He showed up around 4:00 pm that evening and said we needed a different kind of plug point. I told him to go ahead and do it. He instructed me to call an electrician get the new plug point ready and then call him. My dad then worked the phones and got an electrician. He came in and said it would take him half an hour to get the plug point done…after it was wired properly…which obviously was done by a wiring guy. He knew a guy who would be in at 9:00 am the next day.
After repeated phone calls to the wiring guy whose response usually was that he was just 5 minutes away, work commenced around 1:00 pm and the plug point was ready by 4:00pm. I promptly called the A/C chap who showed up around 7:00 pm. His next demand was that there needed to be small hole for which we had to take the ventilator to a glass cutter. My dad got it done with great difficulty the next day, and the A/C guy showed up around 1:00 pm and said the curtain rods had to be moved. He stripped them and finally the A/C was up and running. I told him to drill some holes and fix the curtain rod. He did not have a drill and also this supposedly was the work of a carpenter as he did not have the “expertise”. I got a chance to spend a couple of hours in the chill of the living room as I was packing to head back to the US. It had taken 3 days and countless phone calls with real progress being made after I started getting nasty.
The whole experience had taken a toll but I did sleep through my journey in the plane. The curtains are still not fixed and so it gets really bright in the morning. These days, along with the ear plugs, I also use the eye patch that I got during my flight to Mumbai. I don’t know if I have it in me to get them fixed. Most of all I cannot stand the look of fear in my mom’s eyes when I bring this up. So here is a tip for those of you visiting your aging parents in India. If you really love them, do not threaten them by saying you will get something fixed in the house.
I was reminded of another A/C project I undertook last summer when I was here. My parents were scared to get a unit fixed in the living room. Since I had been out of the country for a while, I naively undertook this project. What followed gives me nightmares to this day. It began innocently enough. My close friend's friend sells electronic goods. I called him and ordered a unit and gave him my Amex card number. My mom pleaded with me, saying I still had a chance to back off. I waved her off, saying this is how the new India worked and we would be eating lunch and watching TV as the A/C was humming along. I think she left for the temple to pray for me.
The installation was sub contracted to this guy who called and said he would be come in at 11:00 am. He showed up around 4:00 pm that evening and said we needed a different kind of plug point. I told him to go ahead and do it. He instructed me to call an electrician get the new plug point ready and then call him. My dad then worked the phones and got an electrician. He came in and said it would take him half an hour to get the plug point done…after it was wired properly…which obviously was done by a wiring guy. He knew a guy who would be in at 9:00 am the next day.
After repeated phone calls to the wiring guy whose response usually was that he was just 5 minutes away, work commenced around 1:00 pm and the plug point was ready by 4:00pm. I promptly called the A/C chap who showed up around 7:00 pm. His next demand was that there needed to be small hole for which we had to take the ventilator to a glass cutter. My dad got it done with great difficulty the next day, and the A/C guy showed up around 1:00 pm and said the curtain rods had to be moved. He stripped them and finally the A/C was up and running. I told him to drill some holes and fix the curtain rod. He did not have a drill and also this supposedly was the work of a carpenter as he did not have the “expertise”. I got a chance to spend a couple of hours in the chill of the living room as I was packing to head back to the US. It had taken 3 days and countless phone calls with real progress being made after I started getting nasty.
The whole experience had taken a toll but I did sleep through my journey in the plane. The curtains are still not fixed and so it gets really bright in the morning. These days, along with the ear plugs, I also use the eye patch that I got during my flight to Mumbai. I don’t know if I have it in me to get them fixed. Most of all I cannot stand the look of fear in my mom’s eyes when I bring this up. So here is a tip for those of you visiting your aging parents in India. If you really love them, do not threaten them by saying you will get something fixed in the house.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The mysterious lady walker with a mobile
In Mumbai, house usually refers to an apartment. My parents live in an apartment in "Arun Building". No, I wish, but do not own the building. If I did, I would be too busy counting money instead of blogging.
Most of the tenants are senior citizens with their kids settled in different parts of America. In addition to his full time job, my dad is also the secretary of the Arun Building Housing Society (or something like that). This job involves chairing monthly meetings and making decisions like, should the night watchman be fired since he sleeps through the night. Since most of the tenants are retired, they stay at home full time and watch the happenings with an eagle eye. If something is not to their liking they may bring it up during the meeting. Usually, an auntie may visit my mom during the afternoon and during a cup of tea; bring up issues that are not properly addressed by my dad. They usually succeed in getting my mom worked up. My mom may call my dad at work when he may be in a meeting to tell him that the bulb in the doorway has not been replaced as per his orders.
The latest incident involves this mysterious lady with a cell phone who despite not being a tenant is seen walking around the compound as it is called here. A few people have complained to my mom about it. A couple of days back when I returned home with my dad from work, this issue came up again. My dad’s response was “Why do we have a watchman?” He should not allow her into the compound. To which my mom retorted that the rascal was no good as he is usually out running errands for somebody in the building. To which my dad’s response was that if people want the watchman running errands such things would happen, anyway he had had a long day and was not in a mood for this. My mom’s response was that she had to answer to a higher power, the aunties and uncles who live in the various apartments. As the wife of the secretary she was in a delicate position on such issues.
The consensus among residents of Arun Building is that it is time my dad quit his job as he is old. That way he would be able to focus more on such pressing issues like confronting this illegal walker with the cell phone. Watch this space for more developments .
Friday, February 22, 2008
The Istri-walla saga
In India people usually do not iron as they depend on the Iron-walla or the Istri-walla. Since space is at a premium in Mumbai, people usually do not keep an iron at home. So if you have an ironing emergency, which I did have once, you start knocking on the doors of neighbors. Usually you will get strange looks, but by the tenth house you should hit pay dirt.
Like every group in India they are well organized and have territories clearly marked. If your Istri-walla disappears to his village without properly appointing a replacement, you may be out of luck. The Istri-walla who operates a block from your building will refuse to iron your clothes unless he has been properly "designated". So there is this code that no one violates at the expense of the customer. Looks are always deceptive in India. My mom was trying to catch a cab and encountered this Istri-walla, working near a building that looked abandoned. Wondering why anyone would set up shop in this location, she spoke to the guy. He said that a huge apartment complex was coming up and it would bring him lot of business, so he had marked his territory. So when the building came up no he would be the guy ironing clothes for the people living there. Guess, one would need an MBA to figure out what this strategy is called.
I got the idea to write about these Istri-wallas because of a chaotic incident on the night before we were leaving for Bangalore. Our regular guy took the clothes including a couple of my mom's expensive saris and did not return it. It was around 10 pm that my mom panicked and summoned the watchman and asked him to go in search of the Istri-walla. He came back and reported that he had locked up his ironing shack if you could call it that and disappeared. My mom was in a state of panic convinced he had disappeared for good with her saris. Anyway, the day we returned, the guy showed up with the sarees saying he came looking for us the last couple of days and it was business as usual. My mom yelled at him, saying I told you we were heading out of town and you said you would bring the saris within an hour. He said he wanted to but it was getting late. My mom was like then why did you just not return them without ironing for which his response was a guilty look. I guess turning away business is never good...and it is not like my mom has a choice of using another Istri-walla, unless she moves to a different location.
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