"...yeh school bhi kya galat jagah pe banaya hai yaar..."

"...yeh school bhi kya galat jagah pe banaya hai yaar..."

...I cribbed to the auto driver. ["...this school has been built at such a wrong place..."]

I stay near a railway line. Often we need to go to the other side of the line for which we need to drive over a very narrow fly over. It leads into a narrow street which is perennially jammed, especially at certain hours. Half way up the street there is a school (which, incidentally, my little one goes to). So when a set of classes are about to start or have just been completed, there is utter chaos with parents, caregivers and drivers lining up (with their vehicles/autos parked near the gate) to pick/drop their kids. 

On that particular day, I was returning from the other side and had to reach home immediately to dail in to an important office call. However, my trip coincided with the end of one of the school batches and the street was full of little blobs sporting green and blue uniforms. Scampering around just like black ants rushing around a crystal of sugar. Cars with parking lights flashing were scattered throughout the street. I knew I would be late for the call and hence I muttered what I quoted above. While I wasn't anticipating a response from the auto driver, he had a view on the matter. "Sir, the school isn't built in a wrong place. It is a very old school and when they built it there was hardly any traffic here. Slowly the residential buildings grew taller and more and more people started buying vehicles which started choking up the street. The school is at the right place" he said, looking back at me from his driver's seat, flashing an innocent yet wise wide grin that revealed two missing incisors in his upper jaw.

Quite often, it is us who are in the wrong place and/or at the wrong time, but unknowingly end up cursing/blaming the surrounding place/people for our woes. Ironically, sitting in that auto at that moment, I was adding to the traffic, probably delaying the school kids from reaching their school/home.

"...he is unbeatable today..."

"...he is unbeatable today..."

...typed one of the cousins. 

The first lockdown was hard for everyone. People took to all kinds of online engagement like playing housie/bingo & poker in the evenings.

It was on one such evening where I was playing online with cousins. The Poker Gods seemed to favor me that evening. I kept getting good cards & even on riskier calls/bets, the lady luck seemed to have my back. After about an hour, I was up 3x. "Looks like I should just play every hand. Given my luck today, even bad cards may end up winners" I thought, as the goal of moving from 3x to 4x was dancing in my mind. 

Eventually, I started playing loose. Started making a lot of hero calls, riskier bets. I knew it was my day, so if I continue taking risks I will end up higher. One of the cousins playing with us is a very good player. He saw my pattern of play & started trapping me by feigning poor hands. In no time, my stack went from 3x to 2x. The target of 4x was mocking at me. I had to take a few more risks to move to 4x. Eventually, in the next 30 min I ended up going below my buy-in due to the risky plays. 2x became 0.5x. I was now at a loss with half a buy-in lost. The cousin was now up significantly & ended the evening with the highest stack while I ended up with a loss. 

The cousin said something to me later. He said "Remember one thing. Take risks when your stack is small, but once you are ahead, cut down on the risks. Preserve your stack & work towards increasing it with minimal risks, otherwise you will always risk throwing away what you have built."

This advice hit deep & stayed with me. I could connect it to so many aspects of life. Be it habits, passion, wealth creation, recreational activities, sports or any other aspect of life. Moving from level 1 to level 3 is great. But when we get too greedy & try to move from 3 to 4, 5, 6 & beyond by taking too many unconventional risks, we risk losing what we have achieved till that point. A 3 can easily go back to 2, 1 or even 0. Moving from 2 to 4 is seen as 100% profit, whereas moving from 4 to 2 is seen as only 50% loss, whereas the fact is that we lost 100% of what we had gained from the starting point. 

The reason I penned this down is that about a month back I heard about the passing of a person in my locality. He drove a high end car, had a bigh house. Seemed financially well set, but often worked for 14-15 hours a day. Could be very passionate about his work or perhaps wanted to accumulate more for his retirement/family. However, his passion/goals perhapsgot the better of his wellbeing. The untimely event brought it all down to zero.

So often we run behind things, taking unnecessary risks, while risking our physical, mental & financial health. Take a pause & think if the risk is needed. And if it is, at what cost? What are we ready to put at stake to take the stack to the next level? Should we take calculated risks on AA or reckless risks on 72 (considered as the weakest hand in poker)?

"...but why is half glass costing Rs.5 and a full Rs. 7 ? Shouldn't the full be Rs.10...?"

"...but why is half glass costing Rs.5 and a full Rs. 7 ? Shouldn't the full be Rs.10...?"

I asked mom, while eagerly waiting for my treat to arrive. It was the late 1980s or early 90s.

Mom used to visit the vegetable market nearly 3 to 4 times a week. She was always open to taking me along. The incentive for me - once she was done buying veggies, we'd walk into a big sugarcane juice center for a glass of iced juice. It was always fascinating to watch the sugarcane get crushed between those huge drums and, just when you thought there was no juice possibly left, the guy would fold the cane sticks and pass it again to squeeze some more juice out - all this while you could hear the sound made by the ghungroo tied to the gears/wheels of the machine. Masala dabbis were kept on each table. One could make the juice tastier by sprinkling some masala over it. The price for half a glass was Rs.5 & the full was Rs.7.

For the first time when I saw the rate board I got confused. The teachers at school had clearly explained what half & double meant. Double of 5 is 10, half of 7 is 3.5! So I asked mom about it. "If you look carefully, the half glass is not really half full. It is almost like 3/4th. Hence the rate of half glass is a little more than half of the rate of a full glass" she said, giving me an "aha!" moment.

Cut to a few years later, I started taking a liking to Manchow soup. For every dining outing, I'd order it. The unsaid rule is that you always share soups. "One by two please" is what you tell the waiter. Not sure if you have ever noticed, but the total quantity of a one-by-two is always greater than 1 bowl. The chef doesn't divide the soup after pouring it all in one bowl. He will just pour it separately in two bowls - filling about half (which is always more than half) of each. Once I figured this, I decided to always order a one-by-two even if I was ordering it for one person, coz two halves were more than one full. Most restaurants don't  serve half, so you can only order a full bowl. Ordering a one-by-two then is always more beneficial from the economic point of view.

This probably also applies to many facets of life. Often we chase 100% or full potential of something and look down upon partial achievements. While there is nothing wrong with chasing a full 100%, a perceived (or labelled) half is often more than half. We all often use the term half (eg: that is just half the job done, this one is only half as good) so often to refer to partial things/work/achievements when the fact could be that it is actually significantly more than half. Maybe 60-70% or even 90%. When we combine such perceived halves, we will often land up with more like a "one and a half" and not one.

A few years later, when I visited the same juice shop, the prices had been revised. The rate board had a couple of more line items.

Half:  Rs. 7

Half without Ice: Rs. 8

Full: Rs. 10

Full without Ice: Rs. 11

" ...you are probably getting bored for the last couple of hours..."

" ...you are probably getting bored for the last couple of hours..." 

...commented a friend (who had just started to learn the game) recently when we met for a game of poker. It was one of those days where the card Gods were testing my patience. He had seen me make a lot of boring folds.

"Either I have to get used to getting bored or I need to be filthy rich..." I told him. Before confusing him further, I added "If I were to start playing fancy, making exciting calls at the table here, I would probably get a lot of thrills in bouts due to some big wins and big losses (variance as it is called in poker), but when we leave the table in a few hours, my pockets would probably be lighter. So the question is, at the end of this session, do I want to leave the table disappointed that I did not put in my best effort? Or at peace knowing that I played to the best of my skill/knowledge/ability irrespective of the outcome?" 

Following a set process can still lead to losses/set backs, be it games, trading, investing or life in general, but we gotta make the right decisions as per the process, which often is a boring experience. The need for excitement is probably a trap that we all fall for far too often. No doubt that at times we should look for exciting opportunities/excitement in life, but a large part of life that needs to be done right is boring. Be it that morning routine, the daily chores we may consider mundane or that boring investment ride through the violent market moves while we sit and do nothing. Boring activities often bring us stability, peace of mind, health and wealth if we master the art of getting bored.

At the cost of repetition, this again reminds me of the line from the show called "The Crown" where Queen Mary tells Queen Elizabeth “To do nothing is the hardest job of all. And it will take every ounce of energy that you have."

Wish you a boring...err an exciting weekend ahead!

"...throw the ball..."

"...throw the ball..."

"...ball feko..."

"...ball taaka..."

"...ball aapo..."

...cried the little boy, all of the above (in English, Hindi, Marathi & Gujarati respectively) meaning the same thing - Throw the ball back!

It was somewhere in the mid 90s and I was about 12-13. My elder sisters, who were always entrepreneurial had set up a 2-day dress materials exhibition near our home. My cousin & I were just loitering around the gate of the premises when we saw a red rubber cricket ball go past us towards our right side. Almost instantly, we heard the cry from our left. The little guy (looked like around 5 years old) was peeping from outside the gate and continuously repeating the same lines without stopping even for a second.

There was something odd about this kid. He looked different. He talked differently. My mind fetched a word for the kid's condition and the word started with R. A term, which as kids we used loosely to describe the condition (unfortunately no one corrected us for a long time as it is considered a derogatory word) till I learned about the medical term for it. The little boy was suffering from Down's Syndrome. 

In no time, his dad showed up at the gate too, just as one of the elders around picked the ball and went to the gate to hand it over to them. "How come the little champ speaks four languages at such a small age?" enquired the uncle, as he handed the ball over. "My family speaks Marathi at home, my wife is Gujarati. We have a Catholic neighbor and our house help speaks Hindi. Everyone talks to him in their preferred language and slowly he started picking up all the languages. So now he can converse a bit in all the four languages,'' said the dad, with a wide smile. 

I have seen many children affected by Down's Syndrome since then, but I always remember this little dude every time I see someone with the condition. I remember how, in spite of the challenges he faced, he had the ability to do something that many people cannot do without a formal education - the ability to speak in four languages at that young an age.

The picture attached to this post is from a movie that I recently saw. The movie is called "The Peanut Butter Falcon" (2019). It is a heart warming tale about a man (called Zak) with Down Syndrome, who runs away from a residential nursing home to pursue his dream of becoming a wrestler. The special thing about the movie is that Zak is played by Zack Gottsagen, who has Down's Syndrome in real life. The film is authentic to things in his life experience, something we don't see in the media often enough. There is clearly a lot more that needs to be done to get individuals with Down's Syndrome accepted in all walks of work and life. Hopefully, the ever growing awareness around #DiversityAndInclusion these days will pave new paths for these special folks as well.

Hats off to the parents, families & caregivers of individuals with Down's Syndrome. It takes angels around to ensure we don't let these little angels down.

Btw, March 21 each year is observed as World Down Syndrome Day.

"...What about Chacha Choudhary...?"

"...What about Chacha Choudhary...?" 

...asked V, who has seen most of the Chacha Choudhary cartoons on Youtube last year.

I have been trying to get my 7 yo daughter, V, to develop the habit of reading for a while now, but in vain. A few days back, the school introduced them to the library and she developed an interest after reading some pages there. I figured she is now receptive to books, so I tried finding some online/whatsapp based libraries but nothing worked out. 

After some thought, I decided to check on something which I was fairly sure did not exist. But there was no harm in trying. About 30 years back, my mom (or was it the sisters, can't recall) had introduced me to a library near our home. It was situated in a community centre which offers a lot of facilities for the community. I decided to check if the library is still there. So after V came home from school yesterday evening, I took her along to check. To my delight, the library was very much there, pretty much in the same shape. I could see the shelves I saw 30 years back and I felt as if I was smelling the books I smelled back then. 

V & I rushed to the enrollment counter. "Sir, please join from August 1st" said the kind lady. I felt a bit sad, but she was quick to add "The fees are monthly and even if you enroll today, you have to pay the entire July fees. There are hardly 10 days left,'' she said, empathetically. "Oh, ok. But what are the fees?" I enquired. "Rs. 50 a month plus some deposits. In all, it will be Rs. 300+ a quarter" she said, earnestly. On hearing that, I started grinning like a maniac. 50 bucks a month! To access to such a treasure trove for my child! "I don't mind the fees, please enroll us from today" I said, all excited, as if someone had asked a kid if they wanted to have their favorite ice cream for dinner daily. 

We finished the enrollment and rushed back to the book shelves. "What do you want to take today?" I asked V. She wanted to read Chacha Choudhary but unfortunately those weren't available at the moment. "I read a bit of Famous Five and Secret Seven at the school library and liked it. But, some of my friends are reading Harry Potter, so do they have those here?" asked the little round face with the eyebrows pointing towards the sky. After a long hunt, we failed to find it. I asked the librarian and she promptly pointed us to where the book was. So with The Philosopher's Stone in tow, we left the library, discussing how books are more magical than the movies that are based on them...

The episode reminded me of a quote by Neil Gaiman - "Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."

When did you last (encourage your child to) read a book? Perhaps today might be a good day to start reading about how to slay that dragon you've been worried about!

"...Tiger Point is even more foggier, you will love it..."

"...Tiger Point is even more foggier, you will love it..."

...i told my 7 yo daughter, V. 

For a while now, I have been plotting to take V to Tiger Point at Lonavla (the hill station near Mumbai). I love going there to experience the chilly & dense fog. Its like walking in the clouds. I kept building up a narrative around it. Finally, last Saturday, we left for it. 100+ kms & 3 hrs, said google maps. Good things don't come easy anyways, I thought.

V loves Maggie. I told her what an awesome experience it is to enjoy a bowl of Maggie & corn bhajji along with slices of raw mango (topped up with salt & chilli powder) at the chilly foggy point. En route on the expressway, we came across a few patches of dense fog. "Look at the beautiful fog V! But Tiger point is even better! The fog is more dense there!" I kept telling her each time we passed through a foggy patch.

Finally, we reached Lonavla, but we encountered an unusual 20 min congestion on the way to Tiger Point. Probably the weekend traffic, I told my self, hoping against hope. Finally, we reached the point where cops were refusing entry to the road ahead. Apparently, the water levels were rising & hence the road ahead was out of bounds. "But we travelled over a hundred kms for this!" I protested, in vain. 

The little Missy was upset, and quite obviously. I had built it up a bit too much. I had to initiate damage control, so I tried navigating to another place I had heard about. "Pawna lake is a beautiful place, might be foggy too, lets go there" I said. It was an hour away. I began driving towards it but soon realised I was going too far without being sure of what the place had to offer. So I moved to Plan C. Another spot (Tungarli Lake) was just 15 min away. "This one is close by & I have heard a lot about it too. I am sure it will be great!" I announced. But, we had to turn back 600 meters from the place due to another traffic chaos involving a narrow steep incline coupled with a heavy downpour. There was no plan D. We decided to just drive down to the main market for a quick bite. After savoring some Maggie & vada pav in the market, we left for home. 

"You know what! There is another nice foggy patch on the way to the expressway. Though not as good as Tiger point." I told V. We reached the spot. It was quite foggy, but not as good as Tiger Point. Then it hit me. I had been unknowingly ruining the moment. "This! This is exactly what Tiger Point feels like!! You see how dense the fog is?" I said, knowing in my heart it was a lie for the greater good. "Yes, it is so pretty!" Pat came the reply. We stepped out & took a couple of snaps. I bought some corn bhajji & raw mango before leaving for home.

Sometimes we create a trap of heightened expectations, thereby running a risk of ruining the actual experience that is waiting eagerly for us. 

Circumstances 1, Papa 0. But I am determined to even the score out before the monsoon ends.