The Thank Yous That Need to be Said

Today I want to say thanks for two very important gifts. They came disguised as simple incidents, but they have shown me that life is never straight forward and everything plays out only when its the right time.

I just got back  from a three week trip to my parents' house, and my son's joy at being back home took me by complete surprise. I don't know if I understood until now just how much he missed his familiar surroundings and his paternal family while he was away with me. But the great thing is he never made me feel it. Somehow he seems to have understood that this trip was very important for me and he happily spent the time away from home playing and making new relationships. So thank you my sweet darling for being so patient with your mother and for making this trip so easy on me.

My father is a man of few words and has never been very good at explaining why he needs something done. When questioned, he simply uses his paternal authority to over rule any doubts and closes the argument by saying that even if he tried to explain, we were incapable of grasping the finer intricacies of the financial and legal aspects of family businesses. So when he asked me give him signed copies of some documents, he was quite shocked at my response. Not only did I  know exactly why he wanted them, but even had a suggestion about how to make things more efficient. After explaining things to my father I had to ask myself- so why am I familiar with these things and maybe not some of the other ladies in my family? The difference is the environment of my husband's home. Here I have been exposed to financial, legal and other such matters that perhaps I would not have been exposed to in another family. By making me a part of financial decisions, by making me shoulder the responsibility of managing money, bank accounts etc.( many times despite my unwillingness) my husband and his family has empowered me.They have made my life easier by making it tougher. So thank you dear family for these very important skills.

This Tiger Roars Only to Scare

Just a short note to say that it is baffling that the death of a leader should bring the commercial capital of one of the world's fastest growing economies to a standstill. Isn't it a bit of an anomaly that a man who was considered a man of the masses should halt the livelihood and throw into chaos the every day lives of millions of people.

Also when you read of his life the phrase that is being used most often is "the most influential man in Maharashtra politics" No one is really singing paeans to the good works that he did or how he brought about social change and upliftment.

In life and in death the tiger of Maharashtra remains a political leader of the masses. He will be remembered for his power to rally the masses but not necessarily for his ability to put that power to good use.

Knowledge is key to Healthy Nation

I am not a doctor and I am certainly not qualified to know what are all the technical issues with our healthcare system, but every so often I see the effect of medical ignorance at the most basic level.

 I am a firm believer that as a privileged woman - one who has access to clean water, sufficient nutrition, ample social support and great medical facilities- it is my duty to help as many women as I can live a life that is at least marginally better than what they would otherwise live. So if any of my domestic workers come to me with a health related issue, I try my best to not just solve the problem but also encourage them to understand the need for taking care of themselves in general. But with each incidence I realize that the healthcare system in our country is insufficient not only because of the lack of facilities, but because an ignorant population puts an undue burden on it.

Take the case of my grandmother-in-laws night nurse. She is not even thirty, had a baby when she was nineteen and now works for almost fifteen hours of the day. She looks like she is at least 5-7 years older than what she really is and has knees and elbows that sound like ageing doors. To top it all her menstrual cycle has been malfunctioning for almost five years now but the advice she has got from family is that since it runs in the family she is better off just letting it be! And I can bet my right arm that she is not alone. Without hesitation I can say that about 90% of the women in this country have absolutely no understanding of how their reproductive system works and the whole process of the "cycle" is shrouded in so many myths that any related ailment goes untreated in the name of fate. As a result most women go for treatment only when there is an emergency. What could have perhaps been corrected with a small pill is left untreated till it will require a full blown surgery and hospitalization.Therefore I feel when it comes to healthcare the problem is wider than a medical problem. My grouse here is with the social and the education system. If the girls in our country are imparted some basic knowledge as teenagers about the subject and society stopped treating the whole issue as taboo, most problems would get treated at inception and thereby save so many lives and put less strain on an already burdened system. Women like my domestic worker do not know about ovaries, hormones or what menopause means. So they are unable to understand what is going on with them. And the problem is not limited to women specific health issues. what's more this is the case with other critical medical issues such as child nutrition, need for hygiene or how alcohol and tobacco effect the human biology. If only we gave as much importance to teaching our children about their bodies as we give to making them cram the periodic table!

Prevention is better than cure and knowledge is essential for prevention. Therefore as a nation we must strive to teach our children and our adults the basics of health and wellness so that many ailments can be prevented and we are able to make optimal use of our over burdened health care system.

Great Expectations

They looked so happy together. Like only a father and son can, and I stopped to watch them. I had been standing there for a couple of minutes when it struck me that I had never seen this dad  downstairs in the play area before. The boy is well known to me but I had seen the dad only occasionally that too when he came to say bye at school car pool time. He certainly looked like a good dad- all cheerful and attentive. So did the fact that he hardly came downstairs to play with his son make him a lesser dad in anyway? My instinctive answer was "no!". But then another question flashed instantly- so why did I feel disappointed when my  husband hardly came down to join my son and me at play time? What dawned on me at that time was that very often what we are so willing to understand in others' behaviour we are very unwilling to overlook in those who are closest to us. We hold them to different standards. Isn't that a little unfair?

All in all what a little rumination on this incident taught me was that while it is not wrong to want something from those you love, be willing to cut them some slack. Sometimes it will help if you look at those closest to you with the eyes of a stranger. You might be surprised at how you feel towards the things they do. Don't burden them everyday with the weight of  the things you want from them because great expectations make for greater disappointments.

It can Only be Called "Google Car"

We took a drive around Columbus Indiana today. Nothing extraordinary about that you would say. But what if I told you that we did this sitting right here on our beds in an apartment in a suburb of Mumbai? And when I say drive I mean we saw what the driver was seeing real-time, including the rain drops on the wind screen, the signals changing at the traffic stops and the people wheeling their trolleys in the parking lot of the Walmart. And whats more we did it using the most basic of internet and data connections and an I-Pad here in India and an I-Phone 5 in Indiana.

It was amazing. It truly felt like all of us were right there. My husband who is right now in Columbus showed us all around town- his hotel, the office building, the town hall, where he does his groceries. And when the phone was in the moving car, the feeling was like being in a 3-D movie with superb graphics.

To think of it, till less than fifty years ago speaking with someone in the US meant almost a years' wait and then too just a "hello hello" over a bad connection. And now at anytime all I have to do is gently touch that little "Facetime" button on my I-Pad and my son and I can connect with my husband and even check out what he has in his fridge! (that by the way is my son's favourite thing to do)

Hard to say what will become possible in the next fifty years. But for now I am just glad and thankful for all this technology that is keeping us so close and so connected. Thanks everyone at Apple and also my apologies. Because even though it was your devices that made this possible, I still can't think of a better name for this than "Google Car!".

The Long Wait Begins

Its dark outside and even the birds are not stirring yet, but thousands of women across the country are up preparing for a long day of fasting, longing and waiting. Its Karva Chauth. Its the day that married women of some Indian communities must abstain from food and water between sunrise and moon-rise. They must brave acidity, hunger pangs and I am sure some serious questioning internally as to the logic of this ritual, to show how much they love their husbands, and pray for their long life now and the opportunity to be married to them for at least the next seven lives.

Indian cinema and television has long cashed in this festival. spinning tales of romantic husbands secretly fasting with their wives or swinging the other way and portraying the dutiful wife ignored by the husband who couldn't care less whether she starved for him. And why not? The whole waiting for the moon and the ritual of the husband breaking your fast lends itself so well to our idea of cinema.

So ladies around the country and around the world, a Very Happy Karva Chauth. May the moon rise early tonight. And may, in true Bollywood fashion, your handsome beau feed you with his own hands to break your fast before your hunger breaks your resolve to love him despite everything.

The Conviction of Rajat Gupta

Rajat Gupta a former Director at Goldman Sachs and the former worldwide head of Mckinsey & Co. was convicted today for securities fraud and insider trading. The New York judge gave him two years in Federal prison and a $5 million fine. I say he got off easy. I don't know if the information he leaked directly affected the fortunes of many people, but I know that when someone of his stature violates a fiduciary duty they are guilty of a far worse crime than an ordinary citizen. After all he got the positions he did because he was considered better than others, more capable than others and finally more trustworthy than others.

I am not directly aware of the good that he has done in terms of philanthropic acts  or working with various foundations to raise funds and implement poverty alleviation schemes, but how can that qualify you to be let off the hook for a crime you have committed otherwise. This is not like the carbon credits that we may accumulate in the future and apply them against excess energy consumption and wastage elsewhere  It sounds a little exaggerated when the Bill Gates and the Kofi Annans of the world say that in him the world is going to lose one of the leading advocates for the poor. If indeed he is that powerful and influential then he needed to be even more vigilant of not abusing his position of power. And what is to say that if his violations of securities laws had gone unchecked he would not have misused his other positions in the future? Yes there is a need to give due recognition to the work he has done and maybe give him the opportunity to continue that in some form once he is out and even if possible while in Federal prison  but that can not be an excuse for breaking the law and getting away with it.

The deep financial crisis and disaster the world faced in 2008 was largely a result of the acts perpetrated by people just like him.  They used thier positions of power and decision making, and access to information to manipulate the system for their personal gain regardless of the impact it had on the larger population. Therefore it is very critical that such crimes should be treated seriously. So whether it is Joe Smith or Rajat Gupta, due punishment should be given for the crime the person committed.

Starbucks Comes to India

Yes there are the other international chains but for most people in urban India Starbucks is still the gold standard. News makers say that the ultimate test will lie in the taste. The best coffee will win. But who is really going to Starbucks to just have coffee? People will go there to be seen. Now all the rich kids from SOBO will know where to get there coffees for their ritzy car cup holders and the next time you walk into your office with a cup of coffee from CCD, people are going to wonder why you could not shell out that extra Rs.10 to get the good stuff.

So yes people will go there to drink coffee and there will be some who will prefer the coffee they get at some boutique cafe or even what they brew at home, but if Starbucks plays its cards right, it will play the game that is most successful in India..the game of brand. In my opinion they are very well placed to become the affordable luxury coffee brand. And if they can help all the social climbers inch their way up, then they will have carved up a niche.

Will it be fun for Kareena When she dresses up for her Wedding?

I confess to reading news stories about Bollywood stars and their latest escapades. I do also click on slide shows if available when they show celebrity weddings. I just love seeing all the finery the women turn out in. Like most women I love beautiful clothes and where better to see them than at celebrity weddings? So when a news website flashed "exclusive" pictures of the Saifeena sangeet from last night, I could not resist.

Unfortunately I was disappointed. First, they had no clear shots of any of the women in their lovely outfits and the pictures of Kareena were also quite unclear. Second, Kareena was looking like what she looks like in most of her movies. No different. The outfit was no more glamorous, the jewelry no more striking. I just flipped through a couple and logged out. But then I thought- what can the poor thing do? She has probably worn clothes designed by all designers that matter. She has been decked with jewelry that can be the envy of queens, so what is left for her to do now? How can she possibly be as excited as any other Indian bride when she gets ready for her wedding day? She will possibly not feel the same flutter that other young girls feel when they wear all their wedding finery knowing that this will perhaps be the one day in their lives when they will get to wear the fanciest of clothes and accessories that they can afford? I know that there will be all that emotional stuff about finally being married to the guy she loves- but I am talking about the sheer materialistic pleasure of getting to indulge in all things extravagant and beautiful. 

So unless Manish Malhotra and the family jeweler of the Kapoors conjure up some magic, the poor little famous girl is going to look like a clone of her many Bollywood avatars. Lets hope the internal happiness is more than enough to make up for any of the missing outer pleasure.

Stirring the Custard

I spent the afternoon today making custard for my darling nephews. I couldn't bear the disappointment in their voices last evening when they realized I had planned just jelly for dessert and no custard. So I decided to use an hour of my "free" time (read time when my lil monster sleeps) to make up for the error. As I stood stirring the custard after it had cooked, my mother's instructions kept running in my mind. "You must stir it till its absolutely cool. If you leave it still there will be lumps and malai on top" and that of course was just unacceptable!

I had to stir for a good half hour till the lemon yellow mixture cooled. With each progressing minute I had to use more and more muscle power because the mixture was thickening as it cooled.  As I stirred it struck me that as kids all of us used to jostle with my mother for the "privilege" of stirring the custard and I could not help but wonder why we would actually fight to do all this hard work?

When we were young and my mother made custard it was considered an honor to be given this duty to make sure there were no lumps in it. The smoother the mixture the greater the happiness of the stirrer. So we would labor over the bowl of custard with a thick spoon under a blasting fan, praying that there would be no lumps. But now that I do it all by myself, I have to wonder if my mother was not being the quite little Tom Sawyer making us  fight to paint the proverbial "white fence". God knows I adore my mum, but I would not put this little cunning past her. Now as a mother I can actually empathize. Who would not relish the opportunity to put all that energy of two growing girls to fruitful use once in a while?

For my mum the reward must have been a job well done and a few minutes of peace while the kids were fruitfully engaged but for me the pleasure was different. My son being too young to help, I rewarded myself with the pleasure of licking the remaining custard off the spoon and the pan, and if I may so myself- it tasted just yummy. So thanks mum for the recipe and all that practice stirring the custard.

It is not Just a "Fly-by"

The space shuttle Endeavor flew over Northern California yesterday before landing in LA. Today, most of us who know anybody living there, have received updates via Facebook, YouTube or e-mail showing home videos of this "historic fly-by". As you see the videos, you can hear the excited applause of the viewers as the Boeing 747 shot across the sky carrying precious cargo on its back- the excitement apparent in their postures and sounds.

What is it that makes this fly-by so exciting? After all, most people who took these videos have probably gotten a better and closer look at the shuttle on videos, in books or on the television at some other time. The quick fly-by was hardly long enough or low enough to enable them to see something they had not already seen or could not see by going on to the world wide web.

My thoughts are that as humans we want to combat our inevitable mortality and somewhere all of us are grappling to find an identity and a definition in a world that is becoming so complex that at times it threatens to swallow up our individuality altogether. We want to be part of something bigger than us- something out of the ordinary that will separate us from the crowd and give us a definition. So we look for events such as this and latch on to them. By becoming someone who saw the rare event of a shuttle fly-by we somehow become differentiated and hope that once we die our name we will not just disappear into the oblivion along with a million others- I will not be just Sakshi Goel,  but the Sakshi Goel who was among the selected few who saw the a live fly-by of the Endeavour Space shuttle.

I dread it, I love it, I am going to miss it

This year when Bappa goes back after Chaturthi it will be different. Since I am moving to the US, I am not sure when I will be back in this madness of a city to be a part of this thing which can only be described as "junoon".

I have been living in this city for almost six years now and with each year I have become a little more attuned to its rhythm and beat. I can safely say that as "Ganpati" comes nearer, you can hear this beat begin to quicken. There is so much activity around that at times it almost threatens to swallow you up!  People and cars everywhere. Roads get blocked as the pandals go up.  Festival shopping starts with a bang, and the rain keeps coming down adding its own bit of fury.

And yet there is a sense of well-being that comes with this craziness. You hear the mingled sounds of various loud speakers being tested with the latest Ganpati Bappa Morya song. Everywhere there are young strappy lads of various "societies" all charged up to collect "contributions" from the residents, their contempt barely veiled when they see a hundred rupee note where they actually expected five times of that. The enthusiasm of getting Ganpati home, the simple pleasure of finding the most "dhik chak" light for your "sarvajanik mandal" and the exhausted smiles of the organizers at the end of the day, all create a cozy cocoon that comes from being among people with who you share a heritage of thousands of years and who you may fault for their lack of civic sense but never for a lack of enthusiasm.

So as Ganesh Chaturthi comes around this year I welcome it even though I dread it, knowing that I love it and there is no denying that I will miss it.

When stuff around you is twenty five years old

So I am sitting there at the tail end of a busy day just enjoying my dinner and the Saas-Bahu serials on TV when along comes the Britannia Good Day ad to shatter my peace of mind. When I first  hear it, I think I am wrong but when they repeat it I know that there is no denying it- this biscuit is turning twenty five, and guess what I remember clearly when it first hit  the markets! So putting two and two together, I am now old enough to be older than events and things that are twenty five years old. I mean its not like I don't know people older than that who are younger than me, but twenty five sounds like a really big number when it is called a silver anniversary and celebrated with fancy logos and company specials.

Till now I have never really thought about getting old. Have never really thought of myself as old. Kids call me aunty and sometimes even very young men call me that and I have always put that down to the fact that in India women are either beti, didi, aunty or maaji. But when I think about all the things I have seen in my life time- tenth anniversary of 9/11, the first Indian astronaut in space, thirteen Prime Ministers, the fall of the Berlin Wall, break up of the USSR, my life span so far (and the title of aunty)  does seem to take on another hue. Sure it means I am not a teenager or a young woman  any more, but it means that my peers and I have lived through some amazing, and not so amazing events. These are things that will go into history course books and will add significance to the time we have spent on this planet.

So as the delicious  Britannia Good Day celebrates its twenty five years of bringing smiles to our faces, rather than thinking about how old that makes me, I am going to enjoy the fact that I have been around from the very beginning to enjoy it and many other such great creations of our times.

Life is a Tricky one

As these things go, I consider myself a realist. Which is to say that the tougher aspects of life such as death, poverty, suffering, move me but in general I am able to cope up with them. In the past week however I have been deeply moved by two everyday situations and they are making me stop for a while and give some thought to the way I measure happiness in my life.

The first was that of a house keeping worker at the beauty salon I go to frequently. It is your typical mid-tier salon run by a lady out of a small shop near a housing society. Clean, contemporary, but cramped. It is a 15'x15' space in which they have three treatment chairs, a room for privacy, a reception desk and a wash basin, leaving little or no space for the people who work there. Everyone squeezes past each other to get around when the place is full. The girls who work there will occasionally sit in the small room inside to stretch and get some rest but the same is not permitted for the elderly lady who does the housekeeping. She has been designated a small stool with a 1' diameter, right by the entrance. When I went there she was sitting on it all curled up,  her tired legs hitched up and her knees pulled up close to her chest. She had one square foot of space in that set up which she could call her "own" and she was all balled up to fit into it. At that moment she seemed to personify the struggle all of us face in this city everyday- the struggle to own that square footage of land and space that we can call our own. Space where we can sit and just be. And life had given her just one square foot of that.

The second was that of the building watchman sitting down for his evening meal. He was seated with his back to the entrance, drinking  water by his side in a used plastic beverage bottle, his food placed precariously on a 2" deep window ledge overlooking the rear parking. It was semi dark where he sat and everything about him seemed to say "I am lonely". It made me stop and thin-was he having his meal this way out of choice? I doubt it. If given an alternative would he not like a table and a chair, a well lit room and a proper chair and table and some clean drinking water with his meal? After all that is what his whole life's struggle is primarily for- three square meals a day. So why would he choose to have that in such a shoddy manner?

At one level his situation speaks of the apathy that we in India have for employees with that profile. Most watchmen sit on broken chairs with half torn cushions donated by some generous resident.In most cases they have atrocious toilet facilities and in the monsoons and winters,  most of them have no protection against the wrath of the elements. And at another, and perhaps deeper level, it speaks of the loneliness that is engulfing many residents of this city. We all sacrifice so much to just earn a living. Missed family dinners, birthdays, anniversaries all in the name of work. Livelihood and employment is so hard to come by and the competition so intense, that we forget what it is all for at the end- our families.We are okay with loneliness if it means we are able to put food on the table even if we have to eat it all by our self.

Even as I write this I am not sure why these incidents moved me but all I know is that they have forced me to stop and think. They made me re-evaluate my opinion of my life, re-evaluate how privileged I think I am. Like all people, I think I have some things missing in my life. I have my grouses with the world. But having seen the suffering in someone else's life, should I stop feeling that way? Should I instantly transform into an absolutely happy being because I have so much more emotional and financial security than a million other people in this city? Are happiness and satisfaction  relative measures?  Aren't they supposed to be your own? I don't have the answer yet. For now all I know is life is not an easy puzzle to crack- it is a tricky one, especially the part about defining and finding happiness.

Do not Underestimate the Power of a Routine

I will begin by confessing that I do not have one- a routine that is. But luckily I live among people who have one. My husband's grandmother who lives with us has a self-designed routine that is helping her manage the inevitable companions of old age- immobility and the consequential loneliness. Her days are measured out in a sequence of events- morning bath, followed by an hour dosing on her comfy chair, then an hour of prayers, breakfast, some TV watching and then her morning nap. She is so particular that she will sit on her chair post lunch till the clock strikes three. These small events help her to go through a sixteen hour waking cycle bit by manageable bit. If she did not have the routine, the thought of sitting in that same room, day in and day out, would just weigh down on her. Now her day is measured in smaller chunks and hence more comforting.

The other person who brings her routine into my house is my domestic worker. A single mother, she begins her day at 7 am and must get back home by 8 pm to be with her four year old daughter. When with me she has her task cut out and she knows that unless she follows a routine it is very easy for things to pile up and work to get effected. So the sequence of events helps keep the rhythm going. The part of her day that has started to bring a sense of familiar comfort to me is the evening prayer she does for granny on her way out. Her high-pitched nasal singing rings through the house every evening around 6:45 pm. Wherever we are in the house and whatever we maybe doing, we all know it is time for the evening chores to start and another day has gone by mostly peacefully. And most of all we know that granny is happy.

Today's world is a maddening place. Even for a stay at home mom like me who has no social life to speak of, you will be amazed at what googlies a day can throw up. It can range from a fire in my kitchen (it has happened I swear!) to a simple water shortage just when guests show up. And if it was not for the rhythm of the people around me and their subtle routines I would have nothing familiar, nothing comforting to hold on to. By being predictable, routine helps create some semblance of control and familiarity. And we could all do with more of that, right?

So go get a routine and if like me you do not have one because you are just not organised enough, beg, borrow or steal one :) You will live happier I promise.

Beyond the Buggy Bregade

There they were, the four of them, walking diligently, braving the brisk monsoon winds, their hands placed firmly on the hands of their individual strollers. My heart skipped a beat. It was not so long ago that I too had been wheeling around Kabir on these very streets just like this. It was an evening ritual that had given much needed respite to both of us. Out of the confines of the apartment, in the open, it was a time for a very different kind of bonding.

I still go down to the same play area with my lil guy but now he is a pre-schooler. There is no stroller for me to push and no handle bar for me to hold on to. He has graduated to the slides, swings and rides. Then why do I still feel like I am holding on to that handle bar of his stroller? Maybe it is not so easy to adopt another role if you have immersed yourself totally into motherhood for so long.

This thought crosses mind very often these days. And each time it leaves me terrified. Terrified at the thought of a transition. And the scariest part is that I have to make the transition myself. No one will be able to do it for me. But maybe here too I can learn from my brave lil boy. Starting school was tough for him. But now he has accepted that new role. He is building a new part of his life where there are people and things in addition to me. He still looks forward to coming back to me once school is over but he also looks forward to school every morning.  He has learnt to be a student and a friend in addition to being my sunny boy. Maybe it is time for me to also become something else. Not something instead of his mother , but something in addition to just being his mother.

Can you make something viral?

I just read about two completely unrelated incidents but having one thing in common- their online presence. The first is a simulation game developed by th UNHCR to help people "see and feel" what it is like to be a refugee. The second is a video of a bus monitor in Greece, NY who was verbally abused by young boys. While the guys at UNHCR are racking their brains about how to get people interested in this game about a really serious issue, the second video already has thousands of hits and has raised close to half a million for the abused lady. This just makes me wonder if you can ever really "make" something viral? Viral by definition means something that spreads very rapidly because it is able to strike a chord with people immediately and makes them want to pass it on, share it. So while the issue that the UNHCR is trying to talk about is far more grave and global than the abuse of a bus monitor and juvenile hooliganism, it will go viral if it finds a place in people's hearts, just like the video of the bus monitor. The developers of the game are quoted as saying that they are not looking for popularity like that of Angry Birds. But if a completely irrational game where birds need to be launched from a catapult to break some inane eggs in wooden castles can have universal appeal, why not this very rational, very real issue? The answer is perhaps not that easy, and it's still a mystery what makes something viral.

Gods in the Workplace

I am sitting patiently waiting my turn at the newly upgraded branch of a Public Sector bank in suburban Mumbai. It is like almost any other bank, there are the tellers, the counters, the people who look slightly fearful because they are afraid that one wrong signature or an error on some innocuous form might actually jeopardise their lives' savings, and finally there are the customary Ganesha and Lakshmi pictures in gaudy golden frames inside the Branch Manager's air-conditioned cabin. I almost don't take any notice of them till it strikes me that this branch must serve people who are not practicing Hindus! And that makes me wonder how they must feel about this open display of religion, this lack of secularism?

Ganesha is the God of good luck, the destroyer of all evil and obstacles, and Lakshmi is the goddess of wealth and prosperity. So their presence at an institution of financial management would be very appropriate if it was not for the fact that this symbolism only works for a part of the bank's clientele. To give another example, I also know of a large Indian conglomerate that will not permit non-vegetarian food in its premises because the Chief Executive who was also the owner-promoter comes from a caste that does not eat meat. What is more, the company makes it mandatory for all its employees, irrespective of religious conviction, to attend a prayer meeting on Diwali to do the "muhurat Lakshmi pujan"- clearly a Hindu affair.

 I am not sure if the Managers who put these pictures up or conduct this religious pooja really ever stop to consider what their actions mean. Perhaps they think it is appropriate because this is all second nature to them, this is what they personally believe in. The truth is, whether we like it or not, the personal creeps into our professional lives however hard we may try to keep the two apart. So you see, when we make tall claims of keeping our two lives separate, we ignore the fact that the person who walks through the doors of the office typing furiously on that BBM, is the same person who went to bed last night praying to his very personal deity that the next day may bring him professional success.

Breast feeding older kids- a touchy subject

I just a BBC.COM article about the front cover of the latest edition if Time magazine. It shows a young woman standing upright with a child suckling at her left breast. Nothing unusual except that the child is standing on a stool and is obviously way beyond average breast feeding age. I haven't read the article but the picture itself says a few things to me that I would like to talk and think more about 1) Eye catching and bold- so full marks to the Editor for breaking through the clutter 2) Unusual subject- why should this be a cover story unless it's a matter big enough to warrant this attention 3) Frankly why all the bur ha ha? Why should breast feeding be such a big deal. It's a personal choice that a mother makes and she should have the freedom to make that choice 4) What is more shocking- the photograph or the fact that some women breast feed for that long? Decide people All the noise about this making it more difficult for women to breast feed in public is just crap. People in sub saharn Africa roam around with nothing more than loin cloths and they lead happy full lives. While not propagating nudity I so think that we as a "civilised" society should not be so squeamish about a woman's breast. While being a body part with sexual implications it's most important function is to lactate. A picture of a breast is context should be treated appropriately. If you can change a child's diaper you can breast feed. A deeper look at the picture shows a message in the attitude of the model- I am breast-feeding my child and I am proud of it. If you have a problem with it, that's your problem not mine. While most mothers would not like to be photographed like that, here perhaps it was important to portray the act in an unconventional way so that the unconventional message could be conveyed and everyone forced to take notice.

When I was alone I said Jalebi!

Yes this is what I said out aloud when recently I found myself alone in the elevator even though it sounds really odd and frankly is a little embarrassing to admit on my blog. But it is the truth. If we stop and consider for a moment, odd thoughts, just like my sudden craving for jalebi, are actually not so uncommon when we are truly alone with our thoughts. Think about it. Have you recently been alone in an elevator or a conference room all by yourself? I can bet at least a few times this year. Haven't you heard the uncanny sound of your thoughts running in your brain? A fear of heights that you don't like to think about, a sinfully expensive manicure that you told no one about, a fetish for late night re-runs of the despicable Jerry Springer maybe? All in all it is a moment of truth when we are by ourselves because we can lie to the whole world but can not lie to ourselves. In this increasingly crowded world where information, communication and interactions constantly surround us and where socialising is a compulsion, it is hard to be alone just with our innermost thoughts. But if we make the time and keep our ears open, we maybe surprised at what we learn the next time we are alone. Maybe like me you will discover that you have a sweet tooth and get off the elevator to go back and get that jalebi immediately!