tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59853676227222839182024-03-13T15:21:53.206+05:30The TimePass of IndiaArshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.comBlogger239125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-42951776582452709022021-10-29T02:59:00.000+05:302021-10-29T02:59:01.281+05:30Air India, welcome back!<p>My father worked for erstwhile Indian Airlines, which later got absorbed into Air India. Now that we have that out of the way, let me tell you about my love affair with the airline. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMGfZWWM3CtrDDDnNum2cJ2hLjdAHN9U8hlGszuOSJ9qN4DL261K1e8ZLV-ogYIuyj3UvGs77HdE7NY4NcHA47jJ-TJTx_L4deZIxr3Ut1XDC-THSXESeKJ8-LVCI8xrU_5BHNWGNyeUZ/s845/edit-copy-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="845" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMGfZWWM3CtrDDDnNum2cJ2hLjdAHN9U8hlGszuOSJ9qN4DL261K1e8ZLV-ogYIuyj3UvGs77HdE7NY4NcHA47jJ-TJTx_L4deZIxr3Ut1XDC-THSXESeKJ8-LVCI8xrU_5BHNWGNyeUZ/s320/edit-copy-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>In the 90s, when air travel was reserved for mostly businessmen & politicians, we would fly as a family. It gave a certain sparkle to our arrival to any family event. There was certain amount of jealousy, some awe, and some general amazement at the fact that we reach anywhere in the country within 3 hours. </p><p>I was a shy, generally under-confident kid who might have had a slight inferiority complex every 90s kid had in India, especially around English speaking cousins. I know, some of you now know the amazing me and wonder how is that possible, but let me tell you that is how 90s India was. So for that kid, ability to fly to places, and the resulting adulation gave an immense boost to self confidence. </p><p>Indian Airlines was beautiful - everything from the logo to the seating, to the air hostesses, the flights, everything was very unlike an Indian Govt company. I would go on to say that it was probably the best Indian company at that time. And I saw it weaken overtime, I saw the quality of food go down, the quality of the crew, the general disdain amongst employees that is so characteristic of any Indian govt company slowly made its presence felt.</p><p>Then among much fanfare, it got inducted into Air India and overnight the quality went further down. Dont get me wrong, it was still better than the joke Air India has recently become. Indian taxpayers love to highlight that their hard earned money is being mismanaged - and when the say this, they are thinking Air India employees are at fault. They are like always, wrong -</p><p>When the skies opened up, so did the opportunity for the politicians to make money, India was flooded with low cost airlines, which is great for so many of us who now could reduce their travel time by 20 hours or so and at a cost that didnt burn a hole in the pocket. But what this did is, take away the class from flying. It is similar to the degradation that Indian TV programming has seen. The slums have TVs, and they like to watch Sasural Simar ka - so you are left with no programming - you have to watch whatever crap the masses are watching. Same with flying, suddenly the only aim of flying became to reach to point B at the cheapest price. </p><p>Welcome Indigo. A Marwari bus in the sky. Now I have nothing against Indigo, I have flown Indigo so many times. And it never lets you down, it gives you exactly what you ask for, nothing more, nothing less - like a McDonalds of flights. </p><p>I have flown numerous International Airlines from Emirates, to Lufthansa to British Airways and even at its worst, Air India is still amongst the best in my book (I might be biased). For guys who never got a chance to fly Indian Airlines (or the real Air India), let me elaborate what the difference is - </p><p>Leg room - For a guy my height, this is important, very important - which is why for me Air India (like IA) comes so high up the ranks. They dont try to fit in a few extra seats (the local train equivalent of a 4th seat) </p><p>Food - People dont like airline food, but trust me once upon a time AI food was amazing. Sure, we mostly travelled Business class, so there were menus exchanged and certain bells and whistles but even in economy, food was the highlight</p><p>Cabin crew: Those girls were great - ever smiling, girls who probably dreamed of becoming this when they were kids. As a guy who understands class, those girls were classy. Even their sarees were classy - what the hell happened to sarees on flights? </p><p>Moving on...</p><p>Like I was saying, Air India was slowly but surely became a joke. I loved it, but like loving Mithun Chakravaty, you keep it to yourself. When have you ever heard anyone say their favourite actor was Mithun? I have had discussions with a close few highlighting why it was not the mistake of the employees and AI but the politicians who were making decisions that didnt favour the airline. Like all crappy companies that you might have worked at, they were crappy coz the owners, in this case - the politicians were crappy! None of my firang friends ever had anything good to say about the airline - I specifically flew firang airlines to see what the fuss was about, except the timeliness (something that was the main source of corruption AI) nothing else ever matched to the level of AI. </p><p>When Tata won, I was glad for 2 reasons - one, it is not going to be made into another bus in the sky airline (which would have been the case had ambani or adani won), and two, it was finally out of the hands of the politicians. </p><p>Now it seems I will be redeemed. I have in the past tried to book AI more, but always worried about delays (reason listed above) but now, I can confidently book AI. I cant wait for India to have an airline that will (easily, if I may add) become the top 5 air lines in the world. I cant wait to ask my firang friends to take the airline and see what Indian hospitality really is! I cant wait to be a kid again. </p><p>Air India, welcome back, my friend!</p>Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-73911625741870901012021-01-07T22:10:00.003+05:302021-01-07T22:29:51.188+05:30A letter to my just born son...<p>Hi baby, </p><p><br /></p><p>This is the first time I am calling a boy - baby. Seems kinda weird to be very honest. I wrote a letter to both your <i>akkas </i>- Pranaya (<a href="http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.com/2015/01/letter-to-my-unborn-child.html">read here</a>) & Aainee (<a href="http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.com/2017/05/a-letter-to-my-just-born-child.html">read here</a>) when they were born. And I knew I had to write one for you. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am writing this as your mom is getting ready to bring you in the world - this process, which I have been witness to 2 times already scares me, and makes me respect your amma even more - but scares me for the most part, like if she can take that amount of pain, she can kick my butt if shit ever went down. </p><p><br /></p><p>We have been ready for a long time for you, son. When I was growing up, pretty early I knew I wanted a son - someone to share the life with, someone to teach all the guy things one a man learns over time - things about women, wine, beer, bread, work, purpose of life, did I mention women? I think all men start out wanting sons, I always thought daughters would be a lot of work (this part is not true) & you have to constantly look out for them (this part is true) - but the part that I didnt realize is how beautiful my life would get with two daughters.</p><p><br /></p><p>A friend once asked what is the test of the fact that you are in love - I said if you happen to think about someone more than 17 times a day, you are in love! (Tune in to my daily <i>gyaan </i>sessions<i> </i>on youtube). I think about Pranaya & Aainee a lot more times than that every day. One day you will fall in love with a woman and feel love cant get deeper than that, wait till you have daughters - that love is something different. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am lucky to have such amazing women in my life - I am using the word "women" for Pranaya and Aainee coz thats what they are - you should see how they talk! Pranaya is a lot like me, it's like living my childhood again through her - in that sense, she is lucky too - to have a parent who completely understands how she's wired and understand the things that pain her or bring her joy. Aainee, we are still trying to figure out where her source code comes from! She is nothing like any of us, not like the parents, or grandparents or her sister - she is the spice in our very low sodium lives. </p><p><br /></p><p>Your sisters are flowers. There are times when I am looking at them paint, or make something with clay and they look at me, my heart skips a beat - it's different from how one falls in love with a woman, but still same same. Do you understand? See? How this letter has become about them?</p><p><br /></p><p>The other day someone asked me what does it take to be a good father? <Start of <i>gyaan </i>sesh> I said two things - Indulgence & sacrifice. Indulgence is getting to understand them, involve them in your world, get involved in theirs, be less grown up and more growing up - with them. Sacrifice is the easy bit, it is automatic and doesnt even feel like a sacrifice at the time. <End of <i>gyaan </i>sesh></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Cd-IVjqNqOp8CqlEHeyJ_N28O6uD0xIqNE-nD4vmAxa3_Y10tdLQ5TnETlRsU4-QKvcQDV4a4jOJ1JlJZO8eU-eVKgqWUFeRZLzNFBDmyZmipTMOHwO5e0E2mRywa6r4SX_15kPtvVkv/s574/The-Heel-Stick-Test-722x406.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="574" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Cd-IVjqNqOp8CqlEHeyJ_N28O6uD0xIqNE-nD4vmAxa3_Y10tdLQ5TnETlRsU4-QKvcQDV4a4jOJ1JlJZO8eU-eVKgqWUFeRZLzNFBDmyZmipTMOHwO5e0E2mRywa6r4SX_15kPtvVkv/s320/The-Heel-Stick-Test-722x406.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>It is 6 am on a slightly chilly Dubai morning. You came into the world crying and punching arms to the background of "Eye of the Tiger" (in my head). </p><p><br /></p><p>I am writing this after you have arrived in our lives - all pink (& for some reason angry, like an Irishman). I can't tell you how happy I am, son, that you are here - one very important reason is of course, now the attention of your amma & akkas will get diverted to your misdoings and I will be free to do as I like (or at least that's how it is in my head). Also, I didnt want one more girl come into my family and tell me how I do things wrong - the women lobby in the house is strong as it is (this is also why I call your akkas "women").</p><p><br /></p><p>I was the first Chaudhary son in my generation and you are the first in yours. Men like us have a great responsibility. For years the Chaudhary name has stood for <i>sacrifice, hard work, leadership & an inexplicable charm</i> - all Chaudharys have it - both your akkas (esp the smaller one) have it. I have it (obviously), how else do you think I got your amma to marry me? You, my son, have a responsibility towards that name.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am writing this now because when you are 14, I will be 50 & you might think I am not as cool as I used to be. Then you will turn 21 & realize I am cool again & it is amazing how I have changed in 7 years. Jokes apart, I am writing to tell you that I might not be always right about everything. My understanding of the world is mine, it is coloured by my experiences of the world. I might, in my good natured naivety, feel that something you want to do is wrong - be kind to me & remember that your father is also bound to errors.</p><p><br /></p><p>The men from my father's generation were the last who got to be men. The men in my generation have had it slightly tougher (because no wet towels allowed on the bed), for your generation it might be even more. Some men have it easier than others, some are born into wealth others have influential parents, things that are not in your control and their is no sense feeling jealous about it or worrying about it. Kids born in the most expensive of hospitals, in temperature controlled delivery rooms cry when they are born & so do the ones who are born in poor neighbourhood in the heat & dust. The lives we are given always seem more difficult than they are. If you think something is not right, go ahead and make it right.</p><p><br /></p><p>Then there will be times in life when it will seem that you made a choice, a bet that didnt pay off. In times like these you might doubt yourself - To that I tell you, forget what the world is telling you - what magazines tell you or what the newspaper tells you - these are just words on a paper - they dont mean anything till you give them meaning. Forget what your friends are telling you, they have seen only as much of life as you, they dont know more, or better. </p><p><br /></p><p>My advice to you son, for times like this is - <i>Do whatever feels right to do. And do not what doesnt. </i></p><p><br /></p><p>This advice applies, not to everyone but a few - it is applicable to those men only who are made right by the creator, coder, if you like - and you are the very best he created. I know it, and if you ever doubt it, read this letter again - I hope it gives you confidence and helps you become an even better man.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish you all the happiness & joy. I wish for you a courageous heart & hope that you find love in this world. Love, courage, happiness & hope in your heart, my child, will lead you a long way. </p><p><br /></p><p>Lovingly, </p><p><br /></p><p>Daddy</p><p><br /></p>Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com1Dubai - United Arab Emirates25.2048493 55.2707828-3.1053845361788461 20.1145328 53.515083136178845 90.4270328tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-73180337054275161332020-07-25T20:10:00.002+05:302020-07-25T20:10:50.773+05:30Everything wrong with - Indian Matchmaking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I dont consider myself a lucky person. I have always put in more in life than what I have got back (true esp for work, career related things). I hit the lottery once & an important one at that - I got the spouse I wanted (which also needed a whole lot of work of convincing, charming, cajoling of both sides of the family, which fell on the shoulders of yours truly - and who better to work the Chaudhary Charm!)<div>
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So coming to the show in the title - for guys who have been living under a rock, or dont have friends who will share their netflix passwords - Indian Matchmaking is a Netflix original that follows the adventures of Sima Taparia (from Mumbai) a matchmaker who goes around matching profiles (which is commendable as she doesnt use Microsoft Excel to filter out things like height of the girl should be more than 5'3') It just showed up on my recommended shows. Now I am not the kind who watches these type of shows, but I have some respect for the Netflix algo esp after it recommended Joe Exotic in the peak of the lockdown and my wife and I were mindblown by how cringe-worthy and binge-worthy that show was - something we would never watch even with a gun to our heads, but we did & loved it, a good week before it blew up on twitter. </div>
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There was a time when I was a big supporter of Arranged marriages - In a way I still am, it works beautifully for kids (note I said kids) who have usually lived a sheltered life, dont understand what they want from life or what life wants from them (the toughest part, even for grown-ups). It helps bring in combined experiences of parents, uncles & aunts a sort of bonding exercise between the family where they analyze pictures of prospective spouses, predict their nature looking at the shape of their nose, predict earning potential based on their CAT percentile, look at their parents' degrees and hope they live on the western line south of Borivali. </div>
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The error with this type of matchmaking is, esp if one has crossed the "approved" marry-able age of 25 for girls and 30 for boys - is that there is a dash to the finish. The whole process is corporate-ized, there is pressure to run through as many profiles as possible, the sanskari version of swiping right.</div>
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Human beings are like Onions. There is a core, then there are layers. The layers are what gets written on the profile - Anju likes game nights & travelling to Bolivia. Varun likes the show Seinfeld, and is Marvel fanboy. Anju doesnt want her Husband to be a smoker. Varun doesnt want his wife to a meat consumer. Anju likes cats. Varun likes comedy nights with Kapil. </div>
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What gets mentioned on the profile means nothing. Once Anju begins her consulting job, maybe she wont want to travel so much, Varun might pick up taste for sushi on that official trip to Tokyo, you never know - but the core values dont change. </div>
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Core values - Varun is an introvert, likes sometime off everyday for himself. Anju needs to be praised for every new endeavor she takes up for her to feel good. But these things dont sound good on a profile, probably because a profile is a dressed up version of who you are - the main reason I feel that if you arent a good reader of people, you might never be able to understand what that person, with whom you are planning an entire life together, is actually like. </div>
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When I was in the 9th standard, I remember talking to my wife (who wasnt my wife then) and feeling good about myself and the world. In a self made promise that only a dumb 15 year old could make, I told myself, one day I should marry a girl like her. "Like her", not her, as if she was a type & there were a hundred more like her. </div>
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Between that day and before we actually got dating, there were other women who impressed me, most of them were super educated (I dont know anyone who has dated as many PhDs as I have). One of them, (this is before my current (& only) wife had started dating) impressed me crazy, she was the only girl who knew as much about sitcoms and I did, understood cricket, had an opinion on most arts, was incredibly funny but, and that is a big but, had a temper from hell & a fuse that was extremely short. We were set up by common friends, our own Sima aunties so to speak, they thought we would hit it off & hit it off we did, but had there been family pressure and only 1 month to close that deal (if we can call it that) it would have been a disaster. </div>
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The point that I am making is, match making is extremely primitive in this world. Sima Taparia whose only excellence should be to read people and understand compatibility (apart sorting candidates by height without using MS Excel), she ends up doing a real shoddy job. Even us as viewers dont understand why few pairs who seemed such a good fit, didnt click (Like for eg that Nadia girl and that other boy with the horse face) - the reason for this obviously is that none of us are looking at their core values, we are just interested on how people are like on the surface (I am looking at you Pradhyuman) </div>
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This is what I suggest a scoring mechanism to improve this process -</div>
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- 1 hour questionnaire (psychometric in nature) to be filled by all parties who are involved, including nanaji (if applicable or alive)</div>
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- A set of 5 interview questions to be chosen from a question bank of 50 odd deep questions that will help identify the core (these questions to be chosen by the client - which are compulsorily to be asked before setting up a meeting)</div>
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- Horoscope reading (this is a part of the scoring mechanism)</div>
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Have a cut off compatibility score and dont set people up if they dont clear the score. Keep updating the algo behind the scoring & this is how we will finally end up with much happier and stronger relationships. </div>
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You are welcome. </div>
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-41259062998473694202020-04-10T17:17:00.002+05:302020-04-10T17:20:40.686+05:30The end of the world & Shiv bhagwan's 3rd eye<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but mostly best of times back in 1994. I was 9, my cousin Aroop was 9 & my other cousin Kushagra was 7 - both these kids were enlightened because - cable TV watching Discovery, Zee, Star etc while I was stuck watching 'Aamchi maati Aamchi manase' on Doordarshan (come to think of it, that wasnt a bad show at all).<br />
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So we would like to spend our vacations in our village with our grandmother (I say "our village" coz it really is our village - we dont get called "Chaudhary" for nothing). The thing about villages back in those days was that there was no electricity for 4 hours of the day and no cable TV for 24 hours of the day. So what did we do to manage our time and boredom - these 2 kids would tell me about the wonderful world of Cable TV - the sights and the sounds - coz come to think of it, my life was pretty close to being a villager, only with 24 hours electricity (well mostly - Mumbai kids wouldnt believe but there were years when we would have regular load shedding!) being the separator.<br />
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So Aroop tells me about this show called "Beyond 2000". This is a futuristic show telling us that everything would change post the year 2000 - so there would be flying cars and all cycles would be solar powered or something -what they meant was 2050 or something, what kids took it to mean that somehow come the night of new years eve in 2000, everything would automatically change.<br />
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Aroop (at the end of a 15 min monologue): <i>Arshat, sab kuch change hojaayega 2000 ke baad. Sab kuch.</i><br />
Kushagra (realizing he hasnt contributed to the information at all): <i>Haan Arshat, sab kuch change hojaayega - fir din bhi change hojaayega, sun bhi change hojaayega, moon bhi change hojaayega (looking skywards)</i><br />
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To this day we have made fun of him. He is now a neonatologist the last time I checked - I have stopped counting the number of degrees he amassed, if somebody asks, I just say he is a kids doctor. Now of course like Aroop and myself he is married, and keeping the tradition of our family started by our forefathers, his bride is also better educated and smarter than him.<br />
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But this post is not about my cousins, it is about Karan (or that is what I think his name is). Karan, or some other naughty name like Krunal or Jatin - these guys are rebels. In fact the original Karna was also a rebel. Anywho, so I come back to school loaded with this new found information about "Beyond 2000" show and start showing off. When the aforementioned Karna/Krunal/Jatin comes to me and says - <i>"But 2000 mein toh world end hone wala hai"</i><br />
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I think to myself - What! - How did Aroop and sab-kuch-change-ho-jaayega-Kushagra not tell me about this part.<br />
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<i>"Haan, Shiv bhagwan ka 3rd eye open hone wala hai"</i> He said.<br />
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Now I have a scientific mind. I was not going to believe this till at least 3 other people agreed with this. And more than 3 kids did agree. Apparently their grandmothers had a club or something where they had read something - somehow this part of pop culture had evaded me. If this is going to happen - it will happen before my board exams - If yes, then why the hell was I studying so much. I should be living it up - like Karan/Krunal/Jatin<br />
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I asked my parents who said it was obviously a load of crap & then I asked a few other grown-ups because what sane 9 year old believes their parents, right? I got conflicting views - some said end of the world is near but 2000 is not the year, some said some astrologer has predicted this will happen, some showed me newspaper clippings.<br />
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Anyway, by 1998 I was 90% in agreement with my parents but 10% of me still felt what if it was true. But better, what if it wasnt, I couldnt wait to stuff in the faces of Karan/Krunal/Jatin a big "I-told-you-so-burrito"<br />
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Come 2000 new year countdown, with Australia celebrating it first, I was waiting for some explosion to happen somewhere. Nothing. Then when India celebrated, I checked if everything was alright - it was! Then I waited for the next day. Nothing. Board exams were on then, I assume. Nothing on Y2K either. Everything working as smoothly as possible. I should have been happy but something was a miss. I needed to rub it in the faces of my detractors to feel good.<br />
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But the problem was I changed schools in 1997 and was no longer in touch with my old pals, this was before Orkut or the mobile revolution.<br />
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But I did get closure later in 2000 when I met Karan/Krunal/Jatin in Veena Nagar, Mulund, a place close to where I stayed back then -<br />
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He said - Hi Arshat, How are you, hows the new school, are the girls any better.<br />
I said - Leave that, first tell me why did the world not explode in 2000? We are in November, nothing has happened.<br />
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I waited for him to fall at my feet, for feeding me lies, for wasting my time carrying out investigative interviews. But he said -<br />
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<i>Arre, 2000 nahi, dadi ne 2001 bola tha!</i><br />
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Crap.</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-8952540584785039482020-03-28T21:42:00.002+05:302020-03-28T21:45:55.316+05:30Are we in a simulation?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have always been a deep thinker, me and Elon Musk have that in common. While he thinks about tech, electric cars and rockets to mars, I think about life, its meaning and what happens post life. There has been a deep divide amongst people as to who among the two of us is doing the bigger job, but let's just agree that both of us are helping humanity in our own way.<br />
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Isnt it funny that we have put letters of the alphabet to understand ourselves, our DNA, we can look at a string of letters and predict what colour eyes that person would have, whether or not they would go bald at a certain age, the probability of them getting cancer, and even their sexual preference! How did we put our entire existence in a code!<br />
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Human evolution is 200,000 years old, and we came to know about DNA and decoded it less than 50 years ago - so if Human evolution is 1 year in the earth's life, we have discovered the code only 2 hours ago! Only a matter of time that we begin to "write our own code" - construct people with favourable traits - I believe in our lifetime we will end up with being able to choose traits in the kids being born, ensure they never have certain diseases, are more athletic than their parents, have a higher IQ - there is no end to the possibilities.<br />
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But I am not going to talk about the science behind this - I am going to talk about it like there was a creator - a coder, if you will, who designed this "simulation" so to speak - for maybe his own enjoyment, or maybe to test a hypothesis, or for his/her school project, & maybe what seems ages for us, is just one school semester for them.<br />
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So life started with multiple master codes (lets assume this) these master codes developed into multiple organisms, one of which was humans as we know them today - codes were hashed and rehashed and we got multiple races, sub races, families. The family bit is where it gets really interesting for me and allows me to understand patterns & make assumptions of what is really happening.<br />
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What we call <b>soul</b>, is nothing but a string of codes that describe how courageous we are, or how jealous, how greedy, how helpful or kind - when we reproduce, we send a part of the code to our kids, then they send it to theirs and then theirs - which is why people find similarities in their ancestors and the kids and feel they have been reborn as them - the truth is, the old ones (at least a part of them) are living again within the new ones. My grandmother would cook for her father-in-law (my grandfather's dad) - like a good daughter in law, she knew his likes and dislikes and how he liked he food - and when she cooked for me whenever she came to the city leaving the idyllic country life behind - I would request her to cook my favourite things, she would say my taste was similar to her father in law, which of course is my great grandfather - so shouldnt be a surprise since there are quite a few lines of code in me that might have belonged to him within me and some of them might have to do with taste.<br />
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Let's talk about taste - 10 years ago when I was in Germany my friend remarked how my diet was so much like a farmer (she was talking about German farmers) - she meant it in a sweet way (I think!) I like wholesome food that is filling and dislike pretentious innovative small bite expensive foods (Frenchies, I be looking at you) - well now I know why!<br />
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Sometimes I look at my elder daughter and am amazed at how alike we are - she likes freedom, is creative, likes justice, likes pattern finding at the same time she is also like my wife in so many ways - likes structure, can eat the same thing everyday, likes telling me what all things I do wrong etc.<br />
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So this is what a soul is - a string of characters that get passed on to your kids - the more characteristics you use, the more are the chances of them getting passed on to your kids - if you are helpful, your kids will become helpful, if you are jealous, your kids will get that part of the code - this is what <b>karma </b>really is, whatever you are, your children become - or whatever you are more of, the children become.<br />
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The older I become, the more I feel that nature vs nurture is a very weak argument. It's all nature or at least 90% is nature - a horse is going to run faster than a, say dog regardless of how much we train the dog - it is not to say that running faster is good, maybe it is, maybe it is not, depends on the situation. I compare two very different species, but this is also true of humans belonging to different families.<br />
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We are in a simulation, that I am quite sure of - the design is outright incredible & the fun part is, we are so close to realizing that we are. There is a formula for Force & gravitational pull & intra atomic forces. How did we, with our little brains, come up with this! Decode the laws made by the coder - Maybe 100 years into the future people read this & think it is so obvious.<br />
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So where does it leave karma? And what about reincarnation? What about doing good deeds now so that we could be reborn or better go to heaven? This might be a simulation but doesnt mean we dont be nice, because after all, what we are, our kids become & while we might be someone else's code - but our kids are ours & we owe it to them and the world, simulated as it may be.<br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-37790916782350146552020-02-14T18:50:00.002+05:302020-02-14T18:50:21.472+05:30How to man... correctly<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the second post in my "How to-" series, which I obviously am so well suited to write as I know so much about so many things... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, for those of you who have been following my blog religiously (I am looking at you Vijay) you must know what a good man I am and must have wondered numerous times on how to be a good man, & if I would ever teach you - well, your wait is over. Read on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(I wanted to put my picture given that how much I look like Clooney, grey hair, piercing eyes and all, but I dont want to draw undue attention to myself, and away from Clooney - I mean thats all he's got!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First of all, throw away everything society has taught you about being a man. Society keeps changing and so do the ideas. What is good and bad however should be universal and timeless, no?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Clothes Dont make a man:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Clothes make a man" was a marketing ploy brought about by those Mad Men types in the 60s to sell more suits. While I agree that good suits, tailored shirts etc do add certain amount of value (esp in client facing roles) but that is true only till the point you open your mouth. God knows I have spent a small fortune on cuff-links and they are sometimes a conversation starter, but thats all that they are - conversation starters! Post that I am on my own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I dont understand why someone would want to buy a 70,000 suit from Hugo Boss or Armani (Both among my favourite brands) - Sure, buy all the suits you want if you are Harvey specter, but if you make 2 lacs a month, a 70k suit indicates to me that you are trying to hide something that you lack in (usually, its intelligence) Little surprise then that I have mostly met idiots in Armanis.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. Courage is what differentiates men from the boys:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Cinderella Man, one of my favourite movies, there is a scene where before going into a fight, our man Russel Crowe is shown a specially rowdy fight between his next competitor and another decent boxer, who ends up dying in the match.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He looks at the guy playing the clip & says - You think you are trying to tell me something? That boxing is dangerous? That one can die in the boxing ring? You dont think working at docks is dangerous? That you cant die on the street?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Courage is not the lack of fear, it is <b style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">but knowing</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> that something is more important than </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">fear</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The corporate world doesnt like risky courageous ideas, they take comfort in ideas that are tried and tested, that are safe. Over time, in such a set up men lose this ability and become paper pushers, even the best of men. You will be surprised how easy it is to fall in line. Not falling in line is a skill, if you learn how, teach me too.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. Take responsibility</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My elder daughter (5yo) comes to me at 11 pm in the night as I entered home after a long day of work, (the younger daughter & wife had slept) & says - "Daddy, you know what my problem with people is - they don't keep promises. They say they will do something and then they dont do it."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought maybe it is I that she is talking about (Daughters can be passive aggressive like that) but thankfully she was only talking about her nanny. My elder daughter is among the nicest people I know, notice I said people and not kids, because she behaves like a woman not a kid. If we were to deserve nice people like that then we have to keep our promises.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best men, I have found are dependable. They do what they say, it is comforting to know that promises made will be kept.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. Seek wisdom, not information</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am always impressed by some people as to how much they know about the specifications in the latest phone or which country is going down the drain or why the fuel prices are going up. They are genuinely aware about their surroundings & that is a good thing. A friend of mine once said information is wealth, but it really is not. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Information is just money, wisdom is really wealth. If you stop reading the newspaper or TV or disconnect social media, you have no information and hence no money, but wealth, that bitch sticks with you no matter what. Also, don't say bitch, unless you calling someone that lovingly. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. Take pride in your work</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The best men take pride in their work, regardless of how small or insignificant that job is. This has baffled me for years. I havent been able to take particular pride in my work. Even if I am absolutely amazing at it. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like take for instance writing (I kick butt, who am I kidding) but I wrote my first novel thinking, even if nobody published it, I would just save a copy of the word document in A4 spiral binded book for my grandchildren. It obviously went on to become a big hit and has touched lives of many men who are now in their late 20s & are able to "Get their girls back!" - The point being, I didnt take immense pride in it or anything. But I have come to think there is some merit in a man who is sweeping the floor and wants to do it right. Or someone who makes excel sheets for a presentation and does that right. These small things add up and if you arent doing something right now, because it is beneath you today, you wont be able to do it when it is really worth something. I fall somewhere in the middle of this spectrum, the worst of them fall at the far end, and in the end dont manage to do anything big because nobody trusts them with it. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. Marry the girl who you will keep happy and who you will be happy with</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Identifying characters of people around you and their worth is a learnable trait. Do this right and 90% of your life will be sorted. I have seen so many good men make mistakes judging women (usually when they are young, like in college) and then spending their lives with them unhappy, wondering where did they go wrong. Surrounding yourself with good people (of which good women are a subset) is a very important man trait. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I will someday write about how to Woman as well, and that might help, but for now, look at a woman as you would look at a man, if she was a man, would you be good friends with her? If she didnt have those big kajal lined eyes, long hair and smelled of vanilla, would you still want to be with her? If all it involved was talking about the weather or netflix (but not chill) or life in general, would you still be friends with her?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. As a dad just ensure the mom isn't overwhelmed. I</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">f she is it will invariably go to the kids</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A good man who doesnt choose to be a father, is a man who has wasted some of his potential. It is rare for good men to not want to father, but when I find someone like that, I recheck all the other characteristics and find him lacking in "taking responsibility" which makes me rethink whether he is actually a worthy guy. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being a father is so much work if done right (and hugely rewarding btw). Read more about it <a href="https://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.com/2019/03/how-to-daddycorrectly.html" target="_blank">here</a></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">8. Learn how to cook for yourself and a little bit for the people around you</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you have to open an app everytime there is no food in the house there is a problem. There is something terrific about taking raw materials and making something delicious out of it. It tells me there is a creative side to that man, and we have survived as a species because men came up with creative ideas to keep predators at bay. Then that maybe making metal weapons to safeguard one's family, or tools to dig up a well for water. While this may no longer be necessary, cooking up a meal still features as a life skill and a man should have at least some of it</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. Don't be ready for a fight </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">- that's what 13 years boys do. Be ready to diffuse a tense situation develop that skill. And animals, hippos, lions etc fighting for a mate or territory. Getting this without blood or losing one's front teeth is a kickass (pun intended) skill. This is what makes us different from animals & kids (who we all know are just little animals)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This post is a culmination of all my judgement about different men. This is all that I can think of, if there is something I might have missed that you think is important to man, correctly, do let me know. </span></span><br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-87711502647769338092019-03-30T07:07:00.003+05:302019-03-30T07:07:37.107+05:30How to daddy...correctly!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Writing is like swimming. Even if you dont do it for a few months, or years for that matter when you go back to it, you struggle a little bit but then find your way. The most important part is to dip your legs in the cold water and once you do it then it is easy from that point on. But before you actually do it in real life, you gotta do it in your head, you have to imagine floating in the calm waters of your housing society's swimming pool. Ditto for writing. Only here you have to imagine sitting and typing at a blank sheet, hoping it all makes sense and then the millennial readers that you have (all 4 of them) take time out from Buzzfeed or scoopfeed or whatever that kids are reading these days to come on the site and appreciate what's been written.<br />
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Talking about kids, I have interns now who were born when I was hitting puberty. I have named them after the movies that came out in the year they were born. So I have a Dil toh pagal hai in my team, a DDLJ and even a Hum aapke hai kaun (he has work experience). I also have someone who I thinks is Andaz apna apna but she isnt revealing her birth year to anyone. I am of course, Rambo 4.<br />
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So I have realized you cant hit on women who were born when you had started getting facial hair. They automatically make you think of your daughters.<br />
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Now coming to the reason why all of you subscribe to my blog and have been refreshing the home page everyday for the past 200 odd days - to gain from my meandering experience and unlimited wisdom.<br />
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So, how to daddy? Not to brag or anything, I am particularly good at this job. I have a small fan club, comprising of currently just 1 member, my 4 year old daughter, but we are in the process of making new members, which is, my 2 year old daughter. With an amazing success rate of 50% which as Warren Buffet tells you is the exact number of times you have to be right while picking stocks to be rich, I share with you how to bring up kids with my 6 years (4+2, see how I did what those mahesh tutorial ads did?) of experience in doing the same.<br />
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Disclaimer: This is applicable to the angels my daughters are (they obviously take after me). Dont blame me if you were a brat while growing up and had to be disciplined weekly. Also not applicable if you have a couple of boys. In fact, God help you!<br />
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So here goes.<br />
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1. Indulge the kids: Having kids is a chance to grow up all over again. Having two kids, is a chance to lengthen that chance. There are things that they feel are important that might seem trivial to you, like tying those two ropelike things in a frock that you tie behind in a bow (what the hell are those called?), like the colour of the hair tie, the choice of soap, the need to brush their teeth at 8 in the evening. The point is, indulge. When you are small, small things seem important. This is also true of your colleagues in office.<br />
<br />
2. Be their friend (coz once they grow up, they wouldnt want anything to do with you): Who's your best friend? Why are they your best friend? Be that to your kids. Exactly that. Coz that works for you and your friendship. And while you are at it, also check with that friend if they think you are their best friend too. If not, where did it all go wrong? Find it out and dont be that with your kids. It's that simple, only if we dont complicate it. This is true for all relationships<br />
<br />
3. Make silly games for them: Kids get bored easily. No number of Hamley toys are going to cure that boredome. Btw, stay away from Hamleys, that place is evil. It can make even the strongest men want toys they thought they never wanted at prices they would never pay. Also for kids like me with deprived childhoods, it is a way to re-live our desires via our kids. I told you, Evil they are!<br />
<br />
Instead make silly games for them. Whenever my kids fight, I made a game that points at the crying kid and say "NO" and they have to play with an action, like hiding their face. This game then expanded to Yes, no, maybe game and further to yes, no, maybe, coco. Now it's our favourite time pass.<br />
<br />
4. Make sure kids know the value of things and not their cost:<br />
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<br />
Like I said, it is an opportunity to grow up again. It is importnat not to make the same mistakes most of us 80s kids did. Along with the value of things, 80s India also knew their cost. 5 rupees for a loaf of bread, 50 paise for kismi toffee bar, with math came conversion, the realization that 10 toffee bars could give 1 loaf of bread, and that 10 loaves of bread were equal to that 1 toy you been wanting for a year, and you keep delaying it, because your 10 year old brain cant get to spending those many loaves of bread on a toy. Then you are 15 and the time to play with that toy is gone. Forever.<br />
<br />
Dont do that. Do the exact opposite. Let them know the value, not the cost. Also dont let them know trivial things in your life, like EMIs, how much money you make and how costly the world is becoming. There is plenty of time for them to learn this. Let them be kids. For now.<br />
<br />
5. Make stories for them. Name characters after them and their friends: I like telling stories. Duh! That is how I got my wife to marry me. Some brilliant story weaving there. Anywho, my 4 year old doesnt sleep without hearing her bedtime story. Most of it is made up. I have figured, mythology is her favourite, so I modernize it. Shiva stays on the 8th floor (like us), Sita has a red sofa (like us), Ram likes to eat healthy and Krishna is strong because he eats almonds and milk everyday. In every story there are 2 common characters - Pranaya (thats my elder daughter) & Manjiri ( that is my sister, her buwa). Girls that she has a fight with in school become the side villans in my stories, her best friends make special appearances in the same dress that they wore a a birthday party, btw.<br />
<br />
I think she's reading through all of this maybe. she asked me the other day - Daddy, Sita's house is so much like our house no? I had to tone it down from there.<br />
<br />
6. Give them a bath once every now and then and make it fun: We turn on the bluetooth speaker, bring the pichkaaris and it's holi everyday while taking a bath. The kids love it and on my days off look forward to it. It is also a good time to introduce them to brilliant 90s music. Baba Sehgal is not a name to be forgotten.<br />
<br />
7. Kiss them Good morning and Good night. We Indians dont do this enough. Nothing is going to make the kids feel safe and loved as much as physical touch of their parents. Animals do this constantly because they cant talk, but neither can children, at least not properly till they are 6 or 7. This I have found also helps me sleep better and my general well being. Also try to extend this to the wife.<br />
<br />
This is all that I can think of, right now. I will keep coming back to it and read it and edit if I learn something new or something doesnt quite work well with the younger one. That is the badmash one. Still an angel compared to your boys. Adios.</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-17556851097549989492018-10-14T20:53:00.000+05:302018-10-14T20:53:39.529+05:30Clash Royale & life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Warning : nerd post<br />
<br />
Ever since I got interested in my job, all my hobbies have taken a beating. I really enjoyed writing but then demanding jobs happened, and kids & EMIs, and then Weekends became scarce. Off late, I have got some time to write but cant really find anything to write about. So I thought what takes up the most of my time, apart from work and travel and kids - One thing. Clash Royale.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Now I have never been the gamer type. I have never spent all night long playing counterstrike I still dont understand the game honestly. The only few games that I have been really a fan of are - Mario, Contra, Halo(what graphics!), Bond (forget the version, but had the best intros ever (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfZHKEU5rfc)<br />
<br />
I have always wanted a Xbox but always found ways not to buy - would take up too much time out of family time, can use the money to buy better things etc. Somewhere in the middle, smartphones took over and I tried my hand unsuccessfully at getting addicted at some game. The only good game I remember was Explode Arena (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-vj8OQH2xo) I was the proud owner of a Nokia Ngage & we would play this on bluetooth with our college friends. Also, I was incredibly good at this.<br />
<br />
The only other game that I have gotten addicted badly to is Clash Royale. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO_nF7FFp88) The reasons I recommend the game to every one in sight are given below (Please read about the game here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clash_Royale)<br />
<br />
1. Only 3 mins per match. You are in and out in 3 minutes. If you are waiting in line to get your boarding card, or waiting for a meeting to start, this is the game for you<br />
2. You are always playing against a real person on the other side not a bot.<br />
3. It is a bit like chess but with so many more variables - like you have to guess what cards does your opponent have & then back yourself that he will play the card at x time & be ready with your antidote at x+1 seconds<br />
<br />
But most of all, I like Clash Royale because no other game depicts life in a much better way<br />
<br />
CR, is unfair, it gives a clear advantage to guys who pay their way to stronger cards, much like life. So many privileged people are successful largely coz their grandfather owned some mill somewhere during the british Raj. But very much like life, if you know how to leverage your strength and hide your weaknesses, you can win even against the strongest of opponents.<br />
<br />
CR, is a game of the mind, more than anything else. If you can predict what the opponent is going to do next, irrespective of how strong his cards are, you can win. This is just how life is, you have to be one step ahead of your opponent, esp a worthy opponent.<br />
<br />
CR, sometimes is about luck. Even smart opponents might make stupid mistakes, how to latch on to others mistakes and learn from them makes you a winner. Much like life, if you fail at latching onto the small opportunities that life throws your way, you wont win<br />
<br />
CR, makes you treat win and loss the same. Sometimes you just realize that the opponent was just too strong - probably bought his way up, or just has played a few hundred hours more than you, either way it is ok, no need to beat yourself up too much. If you win, then you try to understand what you did right and repeat it for the next match (and you might still lose the next match coz this player has a completely different set of cards from the last one)<br />
<br />
CR, teaches you that even small cheaper cards can kill strong more expensive cards, for eg, the skeleton army costs only 3 elixr, while a pekka costs 7, but played at the right time, skeleton army will melt away a Pekka.<br />
<br />
CR teaches you perseverance, and to never give up. Recently I played a match with a Level 12 (I am sure paid account) & there were 2 of his friend who are viewing the match. They were all giving me crap with emoticons while the game was on. While I have won matches against many Level 12s (I am a Level 10 with 4200 trophies), this one I knew was special coz it is rare that 2 viewers are viewing a match. I was close to losing, and all 3 of them threw the same emoticon, giving me the idea that the card he just placed was a definite winner. I kept fighting and unexpectedly for them, won it! It was an incredible rush. Most days I would have given up, but this day I pushed till the end and won... This is what CR is all about. This is what life is all about.<br />
<br />
I wrote this post coz I wanted to get back to writing, so the cobwebs would come off this blog and I could then think of something more deep. Also, I want my wife to tumble onto this post to give her an idea why I spend so much time on this game... Lol...<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading this - I am back boys and girls!</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-87762996204869147342017-05-03T13:50:00.000+05:302017-05-03T13:50:29.922+05:30A letter to my just born child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear child,<br />
<br />
I once wrote a letter to your elder sister before she was born (<a href="http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.in/2015/01/letter-to-my-unborn-child.html" target="_blank">read here</a>) and I wanted to do the same for you. But then I thought why do it exactly the same way? You are going to be different from your sister, even though both of you come from the same parents. I have seen so many siblings in my life and marveled at how 2 kids born of the same parents can be so different!<br />
<br />
So I decided to write this post after you came in this world.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
When the nurse handed you over to me, I held you confidently. I raised an amazing 2 year old girl, how could I not be confident? But I quickly realized, you could be a totally different kid. I want you to know that you need not be like Pranaya. Your amma & I, like all parents in the world, will love you regardless.<br />
<br />
Love for me, simply put, is that your dreams, your comfort, your well being is more important to me than mine. Simple, no?<br />
<br />
I am in deep love with Pranaya. The kind of love that I didnt know was possible. When I fell in love with your amma, everything became beautiful and I was 13 (yes, that little!) at that time & then 21, I think when I again met her. The love at 13 was the most I could love a girl, & at 21 it was even more strong. But nothing even comes close to the love one has for their kids. I am telling you this now, because maybe sometime in your life you might feel differently.<br />
<br />
I want to talk to you about luck. You would read quotes about how luck is all about working hard, and that it is non-existent. I think it is real. I have no idea what did I do right to have such amazing daughters, first Pranaya and now you. I dont know why your amma thought it was a good decision to spend her life with me (I have asked her numerous times through thinly veiled questions). I have no idea what good I did to have the parents that I do. Luck is how I explain it.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, I have no idea why I havent had the luck in work. Got into top schools at the last and got out at the top, mostly through sheer hard work. Dont understand why some of my less hard working friends have better jobs? I dont get why my hard work hasnt got its due. Luck is how I explain it.<br />
<br />
Some things are not within our control. Media, newspapers, celebrities tell us that they are. What is within our control is to give our best. Newspapers print the names of the kids who top various exams. They then take their interviews, ask them for tips for aspirants. Why? What is so special about getting 750 marks our of 750 that makes it news? Shouldnt they cover stories of resilience? Where some kid living in sub par conditions who came 25th? Isnt that better news?<br />
<br />
News is not of much use. Nobody is going to gain wisdom through a second hand account of what is happening in Syria, or the US, or even Vidarbha. Wisdom in our times is underrated. Information is overrated. Only follow this advice if by the time you are 8 years old, your daddy has made a name for himself. Else choose to ignore. That is true for this entire letter. Not everything that I say is correct. My knowledge is a culmination of what has happened in the last 30 years of my life. My biases, my fortune & misfortune colour my ideas.<br />
<br />
The core of Human spirit is freedom. We all aspire to be free. But society has made systems that will reward you a little, every time you let go of a little freedom. You want food everyday on your table, give 8 hours driving a truck, or painting a wall, or making excel files and ppts. Want your teacher to praise you for that assignment, that is actually not going to add much value to your knowledge? Spend the night working on it and skip the planet watching that you had planned.<br />
<br />
That said, do whatever you do with passion. Easier said than done. You can only do things with passion when your wants/needs dont plague what you want to spend time on. Trust me, if you want that latest iphone (hopefully they stop) or that Merc (guilty), much of your time will be spent on earning money and not so much on what you like. I havent learnt how to do that, hope you do, then teach me.<br />
<br />
I am saying all of this as I am afraid that as time passes, I will no longer be able to make sense of your generation and maybe then, this post written by your dad at 31, might make some sense.<br />
<br />
Staying happy is the aim of life I have found. Being happy is an art and good art happens when what you think, what you do & what you speak is in alignment. Everything I do for you would be directed towards this. If you ever feel that I am not being true to this, please remind me, I tend to forget.<br />
<br />
In closing, I wish you find what you love, and find the courage to do what you love. I hope you find happiness in your life. Love, courage & a heart that seeks happiness, my child, will lead you a long way.<br />
<br />
Lovingly,<br />
Daddy<br />
<br /></div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-40730680365942264282017-04-24T00:47:00.000+05:302017-04-24T00:47:06.779+05:30The ideal life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been thinking about the ideal life. Everything that I could come up with directs towards total freedom.<br />
<br />
1. Its a Tuesday and first rains. I want to go to Lonavala. Now.<br />
2. I want to watch a late night movie and go to office by noon<br />
3. I want to go home early today.<br />
4. I want to work till late today<br />
5. I want to hear a song while working and maybe hum it too<br />
6. I want to have lunch out today<br />
7. I want to play cricket/TT/badminton this morning<br />
8. I want to have misal pav from Mamledars on a Thursday<br />
9. I want to write a poem and its 11 am in office<br />
10. I want to play on my Xbox at 4 in the evening on a working day<br />
11. I want to buy a Xbox<br />
12. I want to plant a garden and then take care of it<br />
13. I want to wear shorts to office<br />
14. I have an idea, it might be stupid, it might change the world, I want to work on it today, all day.<br />
15. I want to come home for lunch. Everyday.<br />
16. I want to live in Portugal for 3 months.<br />
17. I want to drive a Mercedes<br />
18. I want to read at least 1 book each month<br />
19. I want at least 1 night out with friends each month<br />
20. I want to live in pune for a week once a while.</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-43378142678701738122017-01-06T01:56:00.000+05:302017-01-06T01:56:30.192+05:30Do you have it in Red?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Sir.... Sir?" she said pushing the pen towards him, "Will you take it?"<br />
<br />
He looked at her and smiled.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
He peered inside the Fiat 118ne window to look at the dashboard. He had a fight with his friend the other day that 118ne was faster than a Maruti 800. He stood on his tippy toes to see clearly what the speedometer said - Aha! 140 kmph! Much faster than the 120 on the Maruti speedometer. He was correct. He was all of 6 years... The life long love affair with cars had just begun.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
Those were the 90s, the economy had just opened up and new things, for the first time for a lot of us, were now available. Liberalization brought with it shiny Hot wheels toy cars. These were small models of mostly American cars that could now be bought even at the local kirana store, well , at least few of them stocked up.<br />
<br />
He was 7 years old and liked helping his mother with groceries. Every time he went to the store, he looked at the Hot wheels placed in a glass shelf which quite innocently came up to his eye level. That was the time when middle class parents only indulged their kids out on their birthdays, sometimes not even that. He knew his parents weren't rich, but every time he went to the store, there it was, a gleaming hot wheels right at his eye level. One day, he just went ahead and asked for it. His mother asked the man behind the counter for the price. 25 rupees.<br />
<br />
"That is too expensive. Do you know how many Wibs bread would come for that money?"<br />
<br />
They started walking, he started calculating. She was right. 5 loaves of Wibs Bread. That was too much bread for a 7 year old to handle. Not that their family was living hand to mouth. No. But he was being taught the cost of things, and what better way than Wibs Bread.<br />
<br />
The next time they were at the grocery store, he threw a fit, a very rare tantrum, he really wanted that Hot wheels. His mother took him away kicking and screaming. He had seen tantrums work with his friends and their parents, she knew what he was trying and she knew that he had to know that it is not okay. Gave him the thrashing of his life once home.<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
It was the 90s version of a party. His parents were invited to a dinner and he tagged along. Unlike today, house parties actually had home cooked food. They were doctors, with two very well behaved sons, who even had a bunk bed. This is 1995. This is when Hum Aapke Hain Kaun was considered entertainment! They had their own room and a bunk bed. In 19-freaking-95.<br />
<br />
Post dinner, as the men settled down to discuss politics and the women were busy exchanging recipes, the 3 boys, were sent to the kids room.<br />
<br />
The room was painted blue and the curtains matched the paint. The bedsheets matched as well. In a corner a basket ball was placed and they had a season ball (the kind Tendulkar plays matches with!). The room was spotless. It looked like a girl had made a room for boys.<br />
<br />
His parents werent poor by any stretch of imagination, sure they werent doctors, but they had decent jobs. They both worked for the government. Father for LIC and mother for a bank. Government bank, of course.<br />
<br />
"What do you want to play?" The elder one asked.<br />
Surely, they might have one hot wheels, he thought. They have all this awesome stuff.<br />
"Do you have a hot wheels?" He said 'a' hot wheels. One.<br />
<br />
The younger one ran to the cupboard and pulled out a plastic bag, with some saree name on it, Paneri or something.<br />
<br />
He then sat on the bed and unloaded the contents of the plastic bag. Hot wheels. So many. Probably 20 or 30. This was Heaven.<br />
<br />
"Come play with us!" the elder one said.<br />
<br />
He just stood there, calculating how many Wibs bread could these many hot wheels buy.<br />
<br />
145.<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
They had just come out after watching the 6 to 9 show. Shahrukh was good, but how had he reached so far in his career he wondered. He hadnt liked the movie, a 10 year old boy wasnt the target audience of a romantic muscial anyway. It was July, and like it normally does in Bombay, it was raining when they came out of the single screen theatre. They had a scooter, they had to wait for the rain to stop, the car wallas pulled out of the parking one after the other.<br />
<br />
Then it happened, a red car pulled up in front of them. It was just like the car in the song (Ho gaya hai tujhko toh pyaar), with the three pointed star and the red paint that gleamed even in that rainy night.<br />
<br />
"What is that car?" he said pointing to it, a little too loudly. His dad gently pushed his hand down. Back in the 90s, you did not point at things, you did not point at people, you did not point at anything.<br />
<br />
Then maybe because he was in a good mood, or because he liked the film, "That is a Mercedes." he said. "You see that star? That is the logo of the company"<br />
<br />
"Just like in the picture!"<br />
<br />
"Yes. Just like in the picture"<br />
<br />
Those were the times when you only saw Maruti, Fiat and Ambassador on the road. Seeing a Mercedes roll by you was like meeting a film star or something.<br />
<br />
As they started to walk to the parking, he looked back at the car in the distance, it's tail lights lighting up as it went over a speed breaker, he thought - One day....<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
He did not leave any chance to ask for Hot wheels. Whenever he saw his father in a good mood which was rare, he would slyly slip in the topic of how great those toy cars are and how all his friends had at least one.<br />
<br />
"Why dont you come first, in class? If you come first, I will buy you one."<br />
"Promise?" He couldnt believe it. All he had to do was to study hard and come first!<br />
<br />
He came third in the unit test, then 3rd again in the Semester, then 2nd in Unit test II and then finally.... 3rd again. He went to his dad, hoping for some consolation prize. After all he worked hard, what could he do if he couldnt come first.<br />
<br />
"No. The deal was for you to come first. No first, no prize. Life is tough."<br />
Maybe Life is tough, and maybe it is unfair, but maybe a 10 year old boy doesnt have to know it yet.<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
It was Diwali, his Dad had moved up to the Manager position in LIC and the LTA was good enough to take the family out of the country. Which was obviously going to be Nepal. It was off season as it gets quite cold but Diwali in Kathmandu but it is worth experiencing so off they went.<br />
<br />
Someone suggested they visit the local bazaar, there was memorabilia there, products by local artisans and even some chinese products. Back then, Chinese products hadnt taken over the world and the Indian mentality still put imported stuff above Indian made, even if it was made in Nepal, or china for that matter.<br />
<br />
As they were walking through the bazaar, he saw it there. A gleaming Red colour Hot wheels Mercedes. "How much?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"100 for the pack" the stall owner pointed at a packet with Chinese looking inscriptions and 6 cars in it. 6 cars for 100? This was a un-freaking-believable. This was a deal. This was a no-brainer. There was a Merc in there, a Ford, a Chevy, and a bunch of brand names he didnt even know. Remember this is before Hyundai even set its foot in India.<br />
<br />
He ran up to his dad-<br />
"It's only 100 rupees" He said with eyes that reeked of desperation. He had let his self respect go. This demand could very well be turned down like all his other demands, but he had put himself out there. This was once in a lifetime. He was never going to come back here again, even if it did, would it be during Diwali, even if it was, would 6 cars come for only 100 rupees? It was worth a risk, it was worth getting his self respect get a little more maligned.<br />
<br />
His father looked at the stall that was 20 yards away, in his excitement, he hadnt even said what that 100 rupees was for, he just stood there, his arm pointing towards the stall.<br />
<br />
Dont know if it was the spirit of Diwali, or something in the Kathmandu air, his father pulled out a 100 rupee note and handed it over to him. It felt great. He bought the chinese knock off and came home.<br />
<br />
And that was that<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
He looked at the 6 cars placed on his study table. It made him feel guilty. 20 Wibs bread loaves he thought. This is what happens when a 11 year old boy spends half his life calculating the cost of things. He learns the cost, but misreads the value.<br />
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He took the cars to play with his friends, who were floored with the chinese graphics and the imported tag. 11 year old boys are idiots.<br />
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"I like these cars. They are imported, no?" A friend said.<br />
"Yes. You dont get this stuff in India. This is not metal, this is top grade plastic. This will never rust, you know?" He said. Sales came naturally to him.<br />
"Can I buy one?"<br />
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Why not, he thought. That way he could give back the money to his dad and get rid of his guilt.<br />
"You can buy the ford for 50." He would sell 2 cars and then get to keep 4 cars. This was a windfall situation.<br />
"No, I want the Mercedes," the kid said.<br />
"Mercedes is not for sale. You can pick up any 2 of the rest."<br />
"No, I want the Mercedes. You take 100 if you want."<br />
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For that kid, the one that got pocket money, 100 was 4 days pay. For him, however, for him it took 4 years to get here. But 100, for 1 car. That was clearly a profitable deal. There was value in this transaction.<br />
<br />
And then, that 11 year old boy, who had spent 4 years, fighting, crying, justifying that he deserved a hot wheels, even if it was a cheap knock off, with what would have dented the hearts of the hardest men, handed over the red toy to his friend.<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<br />
He looked at the pen and the well dressed girl who sat in front of him. He thought about the well behaved boys, what are they upto nowadays? He thought about the friends, what are they doing? He thought about the boy who bought the car from him, wonder what car does he drive?<br />
<br />
"Sir?" she smiled, "any problem?"<br />
<br />
He looked at her, then at the Silver Mercedes behind her, the 3 pointed star shining.<br />
<br />
"Sir.... Sir?" she said pushing the pen towards him, "Will you take it?"<br />
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He looked at her and smiled.<br />
<br />
"Yes.... Do you have it in Red?"<br />
<br />
And that was that.<br />
<br />
XXX</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-50005371724117475892016-09-30T23:17:00.004+05:302016-09-30T23:17:53.136+05:30Yeh Gadhhe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
To be sung on the tune of "Turn the Page" by Metallica.<br />
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Dedicated to BMC & MMRDA<br />
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<i>On the eastern express highway, east of Kanjurmarg,</i><br />
<i>Listening to the radio humming always Badshah songs...</i><br />
<i>You think about the pandu, </i><br />
<i>the one who pulled you the night before..</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But the wheels be always wobbling the way they always do...</i><br />
<i>When you riding one full hour, with nothing much to do...</i><br />
<i>And you dont feel much like riding,</i><br />
<i>Wish the trip was throughhhh...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Here I am, on the service road again</i><br />
<i>Here I am, road rageeee,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo, broken tar again,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo,</i><br />
<i>yeh gadddhheeee*</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>So you drive in to this SCLR,</i><br />
<i>tired from the workkk, </i><br />
<i>the cabbie from Sion, trying to cut close</i><br />
<i>you pretend it doesnt bother you,</i><br />
<i>But you just want to explodeeee... yeah....</i><br />
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<i>Most times you can hear them honk,</i><br />
<i>Other times you cant,</i><br />
<i>Same old cliche, is a woman driving a vannn?</i><br />
<i>And you always seem outnumbered, </i><br />
<i>dont dare drive sane... drive saneeeyeah.....</i><br />
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<i>Here I am, on the service road again</i><br />
<i>Here I am, road rageeee,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo, broken tar again,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo,</i><br />
<i>yeh gadddhheeee</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Oh ho, driving from Chembur, </i><br />
<i>it;s like a million miles awayyyy</i><br />
<i>every ounce of petrol, I dont give awayyy</i><br />
<i>And the scorpio runs the signal while honey singh playyysss... yeah...</i><br />
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<i>Later in the evening, sitting in drivers seat, </i><br />
<i>with the echos of the horns and honks, melting in the heat, </i><br />
<i>turn of the AC, remove the seat belt-ttttt...</i><br />
<i>Seat. Belt.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Here I am, on the service road again</i><br />
<i>Here I am, road rageeee,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo, broken tar again,</i><br />
<i>Here I gooooo,</i><br />
<i>yeh gadddhheeee</i><br />
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*Yeh Gadhhe means These Potholes.<br />
This was written as a joke. Dont mean everything, except the potholes, they need to be fixed.<br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-19911831638414085012016-06-10T00:43:00.001+05:302016-06-10T00:45:04.505+05:30Tiny Feet...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There was a time when I had just fallen in love with your mother, everything I said, or did, even when she wasnt around, made me think of her. That happens even today, but I also end up thinking about you a lot.<br />
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When your <i>bua </i>& I were growing up, I got annoyed at your <i>baba </i>because of his biased love for his daughter. Nothing annoys me as much as unfair treatment. I thought, I will be more fair. When you were born a girl, I was sure I will maintain certain fairness. I will be a firm dad. Firm and fair. But now that you are only 16 months old, I already find myself giving way. </div>
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Back in the day I wrote about love, life, engineering, you know, things that I frequently thought about. Now, since my life revolves around you, I end up writing only for you. I wanted to do a Kuch Kuch hota hai and write you one letter for every birthday, but that didnt work very well for Rani Mukherjee, also, it would be super cheesy. So I decided I will write to you whenever you are not around, like today.</div>
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Of all the women I have swept off their feet, you have been by far the most difficult, also, I am not really sure if you have been swept off your feet yet. You are easy to love. You are a good girl. I dont say that because you are my daughter. If there were 20 kids playing in a park and I had to choose one, I would choose you. </div>
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There is a saying in Marathi <i>"Balache pay palnyat distat"</i> (Baby's feet are visible in the cradle) which implies that you can make out how a person is going to turn out even when they are really little. You manifest what's good in both your amma and daddy. You are considerate and giving like your amma. Your resilience & never say die attitude is clearly a Chaudhary trait. Yes, that's a thing. You also have what I like to call - the Chaudhary charm. All Chaudharys have it in varying degrees. You clearly are in the top quarter.</div>
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The day you called me Dadda, makes my top 3 most happy days list, right up there with the day your amma said that she wanted to spend her life with me & the day she told me I was going to be a dad. I always wondered what is the big deal about getting called Daddy was. I have thought about this and this is what I have come up with - We spend all our lives wanting to belong. We want to be a part of something. That is why we like rock bands and football clubs and feel a kinship to others who like the same groups as us.We want to be loved and desired. We want to know what other people say about us & if they like us. Having your baby love you back, just fulfils that need of belonging like nothing else. You feel complete. You belong to some one and someone belongs to you. That has to be satisfying.</div>
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The thing I love the most about myself is also what I love about you the most. The other day you wanted to play with my cellphone. I placed it on the sofa away from you. You quietly walked up to it to get a hold of it, just as you were within touching distance, I picked it up and placed it away from you on the floor. You quietly started walking towards the phone. Once you were near, I picked it up and placed it on the sofa again. I did this again and again. And it made me proud when I got tired and you didnt. Finally I had to hand the phone to you. I love your resilience. </div>
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Achieving Happiness is like meeting you sales targets - there is nothing special you can do to meet your sales targets, you just ensure that you do the basics right and hope for the best. Same with happiness.</div>
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I hope you dont have to worry about the silly stuff in life and you keep doing the basics right. Your tiny feet give me enough idea on what you are going to be like... And I cant wait to get to know you better.</div>
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Love, </div>
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<i>Dadda</i></div>
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-54157740401193366022015-10-25T20:04:00.001+05:302015-10-25T20:10:06.541+05:30Diaper Rash cream song<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>This is a guest post by my daughter. I first thought what would she know, but then she knows some mean shortcuts. That day she pressed 3 random keys and the display on the laptop got inverted by 180 degrees. She also has shortcuts to delete a file permanently and change the layout of a ppt. So I assumed this super sharp baby should be allowed to share her thoughts with other babies. So here goes -</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncN-DDTxMHQmlRN0mG7tYmSLA0fQl_R5eUt8X5iA2eLU7iISJwOsrEftppH9ig5KVodXtTD9y-ZQ5304YgZmNCx88WBJDAPw3YkBSfWSiuvNCLqVTgB88lGuuphWrG6zJRsYeeTvNeEq3/s1600/o-CLOTH-DIAPER-facebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncN-DDTxMHQmlRN0mG7tYmSLA0fQl_R5eUt8X5iA2eLU7iISJwOsrEftppH9ig5KVodXtTD9y-ZQ5304YgZmNCx88WBJDAPw3YkBSfWSiuvNCLqVTgB88lGuuphWrG6zJRsYeeTvNeEq3/s320/o-CLOTH-DIAPER-facebook.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hi,</div>
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I just turned 9 months old. I was under the impression that I was 18 months old, someone then told me I am not allowed to count the time I spent in my mom's tummy. That sucks. This advice would have sounded sagely coming from a much older baby.</div>
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I recommend you hear the original here.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/MQlJ3vOp6nI/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MQlJ3vOp6nI?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<span style="color: red;">Newborns of 2015,</span></div>
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Wear Diaper Rash cream.</div>
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If I could Offer you one tip for the future.... Diaper Rash cream would be IT. The long term benefits of Diaper Rash cream have been proved by mothers. Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own soft bottom. </div>
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I will dispense this advice now </div>
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Refuse to eat whatever is being presented to you. Eat from Daddy's plate instead. Don't let him eat. remember you are growing up, he's just growing old.</div>
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Point at crows, pigeons, stray dogs and make noises like you are challenging them to a fight. When the dog starts walking towards you, get very scared and hide in Daddy's arms. </div>
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<b>Repeat.</b></div>
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Lick mom's cheek whenever she lets her guard down. </div>
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Pick dirty from every nick and corner of the furniture and taste it.</div>
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There will be a very small window between changing diapers. Make sure you do potty/susu right then. It requires the concentration of a sage and the stomach muscles of a samurai. Practice will make perfect. </div>
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Dont worry if you miss it by a few seconds, you will get them next time.</div>
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<b>Cry.</b></div>
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Wipe runny nose on daddy's shirt when he's not looking. Don't sleep when it is sleepy time. Cry if someone tries to get you to sleep.</div>
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Get exercise. This is the only time in your lives when exercise is someone massaging you with oil.</div>
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Do.not.let.them.touch.your.head.It's.sacred.</div>
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Maybe you crawl, maybe you wont. Maybe you lay there comfortable, maybe you get scared by a balloon. Whatever you do, dont forget you cry you get fed.</div>
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<b>Fart.</b></div>
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Play with Daddy's phone. Play with Mommy's phone.</div>
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Press random keys while they are working on the laptop. 10 years from now, they wont remember the worksheets you accidentally deleted.</div>
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Compel adults to learn to understand your language. Make an effort to understand theirs.</div>
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<b>Drool.</b></div>
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Touch everything you arent supposed to. Throw caution to the winds. </div>
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Wake up 3 times a night. </div>
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Put your finger inside daddy's nostril. </div>
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But trust me on the Diaper Rash Cream.</div>
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-75760300191923534222015-05-04T00:16:00.000+05:302015-05-04T00:17:21.383+05:30Diary of a 100 day old baby...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.in/2015/03/diary-of-50-day-old-baby.html" target="_blank">To read the baby’s first 50 days of diary – go here</a>.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 51: Dear diary, what great 50 days it has been. I have got amma lady lunchbox attending me all 160 hours of the day, I don’t really know how many hours there are in a day, I fall asleep a lot, to keep any track of time, you see…</div>
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Day 52: Dear Diary, I had my first heartbreak today. I am no more in love with my boyfriend - the fan. We broke up. I asked him where our relationship was heading. He just went on and on in circles. Now that my heart is broken, I don’t think I will find my love again. I am going to cry myself to sleep tonight. (which is something I do every night actually)<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 53: Diary! I have found the love of my life. He is my new boyfriend - the curtain. He talks to me and tries to reach out to me. I have learnt to coo and all my coos, oohs and aahs will be reserved for my boyfriend – the curtain. XOXO!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 54: Daddy <span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Strange guy has been in and out of my life and what he lacks in skill he compensates in his eagerness to please me. All the other people in the house also do their bit. It pleases me to see such a unskilled but willing workforce work for me. </span></div>
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Day 55: Daddy strange man came today and spent first 42 mins kissing me. Okay, it might be lesser, I have no idea how long a minute is. Who wants to be kissed? I want him to clean my potty. It is not going to clean itself now, is it!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 57: My nails are so dirty. I need a manicure. I wanted to put my fingers in my mouth the other day and almost stopped - looking at my dirty nails - But of course, I put it in my mouth anyway coz #YOLO<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 58: Daddy guy eats my fingers every chance he gets. But he doesn’t allow me to do it. I think he’s being selfish. He wants to eat my fingers all by himself.<u></u><u></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 60: </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Something annoying happened last night. My tummy was acting up, you know how it is, with a liquid diet… So I summoned daddy guy’s services and after 1 hour of walking me around</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> the house,</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">he sat down – LIKE ON A CHAIR! In the middle of taking me on the walk! I mean how dare he! I created a ruckus and he got up and started to walk again tiredly. But tell you what he is going to think 10 times the next time he wants to sit even in his office chair.</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> #Likeaboss</span></div>
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Day 62: Went to a new house. Apparently daddy strange guy also had a daddy...and a mommy and a house! I am gonna call them aaji-baba, coz they asked me to. Nice chaps. Welcomed me with garlands and balloons. Why u no do this everyday?</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 63: </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Amma lady gave me a manicure today. Good. I am pleased. I am having "fingers" for dessert tonight...</span></div>
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Day 66: Dear diary, you wouldn’t believe what I saw today! These adult humans have a window screen on which you can see people dancing and singing. Then there are car chases and fights and so much fun things. <u></u></div>
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Day 69: Do you have those afternoon naps when you wake up and wonder what year it is? That is every nap of my life.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 70: Now that I have found the window, I am wondering why do we need daddy guy. I get much needed entertainment from the window screen. The feeding department is taken care by amma lady lunchbox. The caretaking by other ladies in the house. What is really Daddy guy's function in all of this I wonder!<u></u></div>
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Day 71: Travelled in a car through lots of dark holes in mountains to arrive at Daddy guy's house in Pune. These guys seem pretty well to do yaar, I wouldnt have thought he was much good for anything...<u></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 72: </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Took a huge dump today.</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Like a nuclear U298 enriched dump. </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">My room now smells like</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">a mix of baby powder, baby lotion and rotten cabbage. #instapotty</span></div>
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Day 73: Diary, these humans have a day and a night! Who knew! I think night is the time to wake up and day is the time to sleep. I might be wrong… Ha! Who am I kidding, I am never wrong! #SWAG.<u></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 74: Attended a wedding today, someone Amma lunchbox knows. Totally stole the bride’s thunder. #babymaid</span></div>
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Day 75: Was talking to my boyfriend the curtain and smiling at his flying stories when daddy guy came in the room. By mistake smiled at him. He was very happy. Next time I smile at Daddy will be when I am 13 years old and need a new dress.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 78: Something incredible happened today, diary. Some friends of the adult humans had come and they brought with them a BABY! WHAT? Can you believe it? There are more than one of me? He was very wise and we talked a little and shared notes. He said I should be on my best behavior when adult humans have their friends over and once they are gone we can order them around. I was like – puhleaseee, tell me something I don’t know!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 81: Laughed looking at my hand for 15 minutes today. My fingers are so damn funnnnyyyy…<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 82: Went to the children doctor today. I found more babies there. You know diary, I feel silly now to think tht I was the only baby in the world. Of course, one baby alone cant rule the world like this. We need at least 5-6 babies.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 83: Got my first frock today. Aghhh.. About time!! God knows I am tired of those onezies! #fashionista<u></u></div>
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Day 84: The first few days of my life are a blur. No literally, I couldn’t focus my eyes well. I can focus much better now. Daddy strange guy has a lot more body hair than amma lunchbox. Daddy could never make a chef, they would invariably find at least one hair in every dish. #masterchefbaby<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 87: Amma lady gives a lot of importance to daddy guy, undeserved of course! They talk to each other for minutes together! Even when my pretty self is right next to them! What is there to talk so much! (Dad: Wait till you reach teenage and I ask you the same thing.)<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 88: These adult human don’t drink food like I do. They put food in their mouth and gulp it. If I have to point out one reason for babies ruling adults around the world, it has to be their uncouth eating habits!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 90: Celeberated my first Vishu at amma lady's place. They call it the new year. What it has been a year already? Seems much less for some reason.</div>
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Day 92: Got a injection today. Didn’t cry at all. #fearlessbaby (actually got distracted by the rattle amma lady was rattling)<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 93: Moushi lady polished me with olive oil. Cried my lungs out. Now I smell like pasta and daddy guy is eating my hand. Go eat some of your uncouth food and gulp it down, DADDY GUY!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 95: Daddy guy was making Amma lady laugh. I farted and both of them looked at me and laughed their lungs out. #Lastcomicfarting<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 97: Diary, it is so hot nowadays. But I don’t like baths. I am in a tough situation here.<u></u><u></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 98: </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Slept like a baby last night, which is good coz that’s what I am #funpun</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 99: </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">I throw a smile or two every now and then at amma lady lunchbox, but not too much lest she get complacent. Very pleased with her work so far.</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Her life</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">finds meaning </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">because of</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">my smile</span><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">. #Oshobaby</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Day 100: Dear diary, I completed 100 days. I feel like a successful movie. My life really is a disney movie. I am a princess surrounded by simple folk and the curtain prince. Everybody loves me and I of course take advantage of it. Life is beautiful... Now if you excuse me, I have to watch some window screen.</span></div>
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-64002289283630084512015-03-10T11:00:00.001+05:302015-03-10T11:00:53.316+05:30Diary of a 50 day old baby<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Day 1:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Dear diary, I was so happy when I was inside, now I am out and it is kinda cold and bright outside. Met many strange people today. So tired. Need to sleep.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 5:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Have moved to a new enclosure. The bed is much larger and there is this lady who is at my beck and call 24 hours of the day. I am going to call her lunchbox. I like her obedience towards me. I am mighty pleased. But that doesn’t mean I wont cry my lungs out tonight. Will keep you posted<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 7:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Dear diary, this is kinda embarrassing, I farted today. I think all the strange people in this house heard me and clapped and laughed like it’s some kinda miracle. I am beginning to like these guys<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 8:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Today a strange man came. He looks eager to please. I like his service. He walks around the house at night to calm me down. Yes, I get very cranky. As eager to please as this workforce is, its not at all skilled. Communication skills need to be improved. They need to understand what I want and when I want it.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 10:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I like lunchbox lady. Every time I start crying I get fed. It is a lot of work for me but good to see that at least she gets me. The strange man has left today. I need to avail the services of another old human.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 11:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I think I got named today. They kept saying a name in my ear. It hasn’t even registered.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 12:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Dear Diary, I need to learn how to fart like a lady. Awkward!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 13:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Had a lot of gas last night. I think it might be my sedentary lifestyle. I don’t like that crying is not included as exercise in this part of the world.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 15:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Strange man has returned. I am beginning to see a pattern here. I think he’s here every 7 days or so. I heard someone call him daddy. I don’t know whose daddy he is, but he surely is a good ride. I am going to summon his services at 3 in the night today.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 16:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Such a busy day today was. I cried for 2 hours, then slept, then fed on the lunchbox lady for 1 hour, then slept, summoned the services of that daddy guy in the night and walked for 1 hour. So much calories have been burnt today I cant tell you.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 17:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Farted and burped at the same time today coz #YOLO<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 18:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I did potty on the lunchbox lady today. Good fun happened. ROFLzzz!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 20:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I think that lunchbox lady has a name. Amma I think she wants to be called. Anyway, had a little game with her. Had potty in the diaper and started crying, she cleaned me and as she walked to the cupboard to get a clean diaper, I did Potty #2. Trust me diary, when you are just 20 days old it is not easy to potty on demand. The lunchbox used to smile when I used to do potty in the first week, now she doesn’t seem amused. Maybe I should increase my output. LOLzzz!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 22:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Saw the so called daddy make so called amma laugh. They were completely ignoring me and talking amongst themselves like normal people! I have a feeling that these two might have known each other for quite some time. But diary, I don’t like this union-baazi in my empire. I cried just in time and made them break their jolly gathering.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 23:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Dear Diary, I am in love. My boyfriend is the fan. He is there for me whenever I need him. Lunchbox amma has been working fine but recently that daddy guy has been corrupting her work ethic I feel. I should make him walk 2 hours tonight. But yes, the fan. He follows me to every room. Also he’s so cool. I have learnt to smile and all my smiles will be reserved for my sweetheart – the fan.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 24:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I did potty on daddy guy. After he changed his shirt, I did susu on him. This has been a productive day<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 26:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Have realized there are many more people in this house. Amma lunchbox and daddy guy must be 100 years old. There are also their father and mother and one more lady (her greatgrandmother) who seems the most experienced. I don’t think she has been floored by my charm yet. She is on the radar though.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 28:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Got my ears pierced. I think I look awesome. There some friends of the adult humans coming tonight and I have nothing to wear! God! All they have been dressing me in is onezies! What is this? 1997? #fashionista<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 29:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I hate massages. No diary, its not like the Swedish massage they show on TV. Theres this moushi lady who comes and just polishes me with oil. And so much exercise! I hate taking baths also. When I don’t get dirty at all apart from the occasional potty and susu (occasional meaning once every 3 hours), why do I need to take a bath? My boyfriend, the fan seems helpless in front of these people. He would have saved me from them if he could.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 30<u></u><u></u></div>
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Just realized potty and party sound the same. Giggled for 15 minutes straight. Amma lady kissed me and laughed too. Would like to abolish this kissing routine and have a more formal way of appreciating me, like a salute or something.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 33:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Met the children doctor today. He’s actually old too. Like as old as Daddy guy – 100 years, give or take a few. By children doctor I thought he must be a child with a stethoscope or something. Haha. I giggled another 15 minutes today. So funny I am. Don’t like the doctor one bit. He’s uncouth. Makes me touch my head to my knees and looks at amma and says - See, such a good baby! - like I was some kinda of paneer tikka. Cant wait to have Paneer Tikka.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 38:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Will people stop smelling my head already?<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 40:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Talked to the fan for 1 hours before sleeping. I think I am in love. Daddy guy also said he loves me. I must be doing everything right else why would everybody fall for me like this. XOXO!<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 42:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I have now done susu on everybody who stays under this roof. I feel 2 feet tall tonight.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 43:<u></u><u></u></div>
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I don’t like this mid-meal burping business this amma lady does. It’s like being at an all you can eat buffet and then being taken mid way into a sales meeting. I cry loudly and let my disagreement known, but for all the obedience, amma lady seems to take a lot of decisions on her own. I don’t like this defiance one bit.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 44:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Stop kissing my forehead in my sleep yougaiyzzz…<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 45:</div>
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God, gained 600 gms since birth! I should ask the lunchbox lady if she has a low fat option for me.</div>
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Day 46:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Daddy fellow is eating my fingers and toes. I would have stopped him if it wasn’t SO MUCH fun.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Day 49:<u></u><u></u></div>
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This daddy guy and amma lady seem to be good friends. Chatterboxes ruining my beauty sleep. Shutuppp and give your attention to me!<u></u></div>
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Day 50:<u></u><u></u></div>
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Dear diary, it’s been 50 days. I can positively say that I have been pleased by the service rendered by these guys, esp amma lady lunchbox. I have many more kingdoms to annex. But right now, its 3 am and I have to wake up every person in the house coz that’s how I roll! XOXO</div>
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-29500986352586022682015-01-13T20:30:00.000+05:302015-01-13T20:30:05.261+05:30Letter to my unborn child...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear child,<br />
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You will be here in a few days and I feel completely unprepared. I was, what I like to call "baby ready" right out of engineering college. I had begun liking kids and couldnt wait to have my own. I waited 8 years for you to come in my life. And now that you are almost here, I feel completely unprepared.<br />
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I have no idea if I would make a good father. I was lucky to have a really great set of parents. They let me take my own decisions, let me make mistakes occasionally, form my own opinions, in short, they let me be, well, me. What else are good parents supposed to do if not this? There is no set Key Result Areas for parents. There are no finishing schools, no second chances (per kid). My parents I think did a good job. And still, there were times when I was really mad at them. Maybe it is a sign of growing up or something. Maybe there comes a time when you realise that for the halo our society creates around one's parents, they are after all human and they are susceptible to mistakes too.<br />
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I guess, this is the reason why I am writing to you even before you are born. I hope that when you read this at 13, this letter will be still written by your 29 year old father. And maybe he might be more understanding than your 42 year old father who has salt and pepper hair and who your girlfriends think looks like George Clooney.<br />
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I am also writing to apologise in advance. I am going to push my dreams onto your shoulder. No matter how good a father I try to be, I might sneak in a few words about IIT and how you should try and get into engineering and how MIT has the best labs and you should work there etc. I am telling you now - I will love you no matter what college you go to or what you decide to be in life.<br />
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Interesting people, I have found, do only two things - They either create something or solve problems. The really interesting ones do both. If you are doing this, you are doing life right. Your looks wont matter, what car you drive or where you live wont matter. It doesnt matter what your friends say, or your relatives or even what I say. Being happy matters. Being happy is an art and like every art form, it get better with practice.<br />
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Your mother and I love you very much. We already love you, even before you are born. We loved you even before you were conceived. You know what? I was 14 when I first met your mother. And she was just 13. It must be funny imagining you parents to be little, no? I remember saying to myself that she had the prettiest brown eyes I had ever seen. I also remember thinking that she would make a good mother. Amazing no? That the 14 year old me would feel that a 13 year old girl will make a good mother? But tell you what, in all the years that I have known her, my belief in her has only strengthened.<br />
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I wish I could insulate you from all that is wrong in this world. But I wont be able to do that. Come to think of it, maybe that is not a father's job. A father's job is to guide, I think, not cajole. If you find this to be incorrect, please let me know. There are going to be times in your life when you wouldnt know what you are doing with your life and where is your life going. Everybody will tell you to do what you love. But no one will tell you how to find what you love. I am sorry I cant tell you that either. Only you can find love, in work and otherwise. One trick that I have found is to listen to your heart more than your mind. Your mind is plagued with what they show on TV and what they write in the papers. Listen to what your elders say, including myself. But dont buy everything we say. Most 30 year olds I know dont know what the hell are they talking about. Extrapolate that to all other age groups. But do listen to elders and ask them questions. This is the only way to gain experience without experience.<br />
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We are people pleasers, your mom and I. There are very few who dont like me and I dont think any person in their right frame of mind would dislike your mom. Being likeable is not the same as people pleasing. Refrain from picking up that habit from your parents.<br />
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Make mistakes. It's very important.It's okay to fail at things. It is not okay however to not give your best. Think about it, if everyone halfassed everything what would the world be like?<br />
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Those who say luck doesnt matter are lying. But over time, I have found, luck evens out. Once luck evens out, only hard work stands tall. There is no substitute to hard work. At the same time, not everyone, no matter how hard working succeeds at everything. Faraday, found out the relationship between Electricity, Magnetism and light. One has to have some divine intervention to find that, I feel. But when Faraday was made to work in a glass manufacturing lab by his jealous boss, he failed miserably for 4 years! You might not succeed at everything. But succeeding at everything is not the aim of life.<br />
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Some of your friends are going to have better parents, maybe more educated or who earn more than us or they have better toys or have a good looking boyfriend/girlfriend. You dont know their story. You havent walked in their shoes. Dont be jealous. If you learn to do that, teach me how.<br />
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In closing, all I want for you if good health and a good life. Happiness and joy. Experiences and lots of trials and errors. Lots of love and an honest heart, my child, will lead you a long way.<br />
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Lovingly,<br />
Daddy.<br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-72236117199381862832015-01-08T23:17:00.001+05:302015-01-08T23:17:04.584+05:30Sri Lanka, amaze me!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If the aim of travel is enriching oneself, I had the most enriching trip in my life very recently. This was to Sri Lanka. And I say this after travelling to 14 countries round the world. Travellers always want to see places different from their home, and I dont blame them. It does seem like the best value for money.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUS4BebwaHfJGFxCcIRSMg2Qvhr-k7WVdhD86dpUCLWwL6UUraS53EK1XMC3_Z0Xz36AXapCQUpaMh9p4B_oWjjPYldTlpbEfqOrA_mHAGOS8N9DMiwN2n6k38C06bNfosWhcUao8SCma/s1600/Colombo-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUS4BebwaHfJGFxCcIRSMg2Qvhr-k7WVdhD86dpUCLWwL6UUraS53EK1XMC3_Z0Xz36AXapCQUpaMh9p4B_oWjjPYldTlpbEfqOrA_mHAGOS8N9DMiwN2n6k38C06bNfosWhcUao8SCma/s1600/Colombo-16.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
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So, please note that I say, SL was the most enriching of my trips, it wasnt the biggest bang for my buck. That, probably would be Hungary.<br />
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Anywho, when I got married, I, in all my naivety made a promise of at least one-vacation-a-year to the wife. She very subtly reminded me in August that we hadnt made any plans and it was already past the half year mark. So we decided to go some place most Indians never visit (we were wrong about that) - Sri Lanka.<br />
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In my head SL would just be a poorer copy of Kerala. I was partly correct about that. As our plane swooped in to land, as far as our eyes could see on either sides, were coconut trees. Vast, literally forests of Coconut trees. So much like Kerala, but definitely not a poor copy.<br />
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Private transport across SL is super expensive. This in spite of fuel and vehicles costing exactly the same as in India. Heck, even their oil provider is Indian Oil (which is renamed IOL Sri Lanka, yeah, smart). On our way from the airport, as we entered the city, we did get caught up in traffic. Ah, good old third world country, I thought. Only, there was no honking, no rash driving and almost no motorbikes on the road (Could a SLankan answer why this is?)<br />
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Now the enriching part - The roads, barely felt a bump on the roads. The traffic! I have never had cars stop for me while crossing the road in India. There are just too many cars and too many people in India, I thought as I crossed that road in Colombo. I am like the mother of that naughty kid in school. Everyone says he a menace, but the soft hearted mother I am, I cant find faults with the kid. My attitude towards India is the same.<br />
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The beaches, they are beautiful! The heritage buildings, the monuments are all well kept. They all seemed Indian or British, which is obvious considering it was Tamil kings who ruled SL for most of its history apart from the British who came in during the 19th century.<br />
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My point being, this country, a small island, war ravaged for 25 years, a part of the Indian subcontient, was more European than Indian. Again, I love India. But Sri Lanka probably has all the beauty of India and its people minus the filth, the honking, the dirty and encroached footpaths and the deafening noise of loud speakers.<br />
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So, what are the Sri Lankans doing right?<br />
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1. They controlled their population.The population of SL, the entire island is less than one such island in India that is hundred times smaller than SL - Mumbai. The population density of Colombo and Berlin (one of the lesser populated cities of the west) is almost the same!<br />
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2. They made education compulsory. SL has amongst highest in 3rd world countries (98%!)<br />
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3. They made cheap medical care available for its rural folk.<br />
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4. Resulting higher value of human life and better pay for even menial jobs. In a country full of Coconut trees, coconut is still costlier than in Mumbai. The reason - the wage of the person who climbs up the tree in SL is much higher than in India.<br />
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On our way back to India, we stopped at Chennai. We went around a little bit. Chennai looks a lot like Colombo. Only it's not. It took us a few hours adjusting to that fact. Less than 1000 kms away is a city that is so much cleaner. How? While sitting on the beach, looking far out in the Indian Ocean, the same ocean that is shared by both cities, we thought what should be done to make our cities that pretty.<br />
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1. We cant reverse our population. But we can try to diffuse the population to other cities. We have to come up with newer better planned cities. We need at least 100 cities of the same tier as Ahmedabad and Mysore. At least 100.<br />
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2. We have to make 2 types of education available. We dont want everybody to become an engineer. But we want everyone to read and write and think for themselves. Most engineers from India cant.<br />
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3. Improve the quality of cheap medical care in India. Govt hospitals have to be run better.<br />
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4. Improve quality of 3 things in the public domain - Potholes free Roads. 24/7 Electricity. Potable water supply. That is it. It is not that difficult.<br />
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Or maybe it is. Either way, we cant stop trying. It makes no sense to be a superpower if we cant even have 24/7 electricty. in 2015!<br />
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We had to catch a flight back to Mumbai from Chennai. We were crossing the road at the slow lazy pace only a tourist can manage when a Tata Indica, honked at us and woke us from our slumber-like state. We were truly home.<br />
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Note: Every morning I wake up and open my window I feel great. I am proud of my country. It took me 3 months of contemplation to write this post, call my naughty kid, well, naughty.<br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-55701178380332531332014-11-16T22:23:00.003+05:302014-11-16T22:23:49.899+05:30Daal Fry, bitch!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There’s a holiday in Germany when people eat goose, you know the bird we used to shoot at while playing Duck hunt? What is duck hunt you ask? Don’t you remember that awesome game on 8 bit Sega? What is 8 bit Sega you ask? When were you born I ask! And pity you.</div>
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Anyway, that is not a good day to be a goose, I bet you. So we were at a party and everybody was served goose except yours truly of course.</div>
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You are a vegetarian? So where do you get your protein from? Asked a British friend of mine.</div>
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Daal fry. Bitch.</div>
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Daal fry. The most underrated dish on the menu card, bought only in conjunction with Jeera rice. I am a daal fan. I think to really rate a restaurant you have to taste the daal fry there. It is so simple, it doesn’t have the taste or texture of Paneer or mushroom, which I think is vegetarians’ way of understanding why the world goes crazy after meat. Daal fry, and not daal Tadka (yes there is a difference) is what I am talking about here. Daal Tadka has too much oil in it and is sometimes used to hide shoddy workmanship in the kitchen.</div>
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I have been trying since ages to perfect the Daal fry. There are no authentic recipes online which give the same dhaba/restaurant taste. I, with the audacity of a researcher, kept trying to perfect the Daal fry and this time, I think I tasted the daal closest to dhaba/restaurant daal.</div>
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So for the benefit for all you readers, and humanity, I present to you the most authentic dhaba style daal fry</div>
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<b>Daal prep</b></div>
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Take 3 parts of tur daal (arhad) & 1 part of masoor without the skin. The reason we use masoor is that is offers a good balance against the extra starchy tur daal. Soak in water for some time, then put it in a cooker. Note that I am a guy and this is an art, so we are not going to go by grammage and such. Use any amount.</div>
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Cut a tomato in fours and put in the cooker. Put in some turmeric powder. Cook for 3-4 whistles. </div>
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Open the lid. Use a whisker to whisk the daal into a smooth constant consistency soup.</div>
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Now starts the kickass part of the daal. The tempering.</div>
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<b>Tempering prep.</b></div>
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Mince a handful of ginger and garlic.</div>
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Heat a pan. Put in a dollop of ghee in. Let it get hot. Unlike oil, ghee has a high oxidation point. So let it get really hot. Throw in some mustard seeds and cumin. Let it splutter. </div>
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Now this is IMPORTANT. </div>
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Put in ginger and cook it. Yes. Cook the bloody ginger. This is make or break.</div>
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Now put in some hing (Asofedita something). Smell the awesome smell. Now put in some curry leaves if you have been brought up south of the Tropic of Cancer. Let them splutter with a vengeance. Some green chillies to taste.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now put in Garlic. This is practically the last step and the shortest one. Don’t burn the garlic. Once you smell garlic, you know its done.</div>
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Stand back and pour the daal from the cooker into the mix. Be careful. Let the mixture simmer for 5 mintues.</div>
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<br /></div>
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You are done. Get ready to enjoy the best daal fry you have ever had.</div>
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Chaudhary out.</div>
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</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-20275056222177403732014-07-11T01:24:00.001+05:302014-07-11T01:24:23.249+05:3029 things the 29 year old I want to tell the 19 year old me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If there was a way I could go back to the July of 2004 when I had just turned 19, in my second year of engineering, which till date remains my toughest year, what would I tell him? He’s at a tough time in his life already with over 4 hours of travelling to and fro to college and for the first time he’s not in the top 10% of his very intelligent class. And things are about to get worse from here on. I wish somehow I could go back and just, you know, tell him stuff that would make him believe that all of this will be alright.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The older you get, the wiser you will get. I know you think you know everything, and yes you do know quite a lot, but you will know more things when you are 25 and even more by you are 29. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Money can buy most things in life. But there are 3 things money cant buy. Good food, Good weather and Good women</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Good food is fresh fruits, vegetables, there are very few countries in the world that have access to such food, yours is one of them. Good weather is rarer than good food. Good women are the rarest of the three.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">4.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I know how much you have heard about Germany and how much you want to visit. You will work for a German firm right out of Engineering college. And yes, you will end up living in Berlin. It is an amazing city.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">5.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You know that girl you liked in the 11th Standard but didn’t have the stomach to approach? She got fat. Not that weight is the right way to judge a girl, but it wasn’t exactly her personality you were after.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">6.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I know you don’t drink and you shouldn’t, not such a good habit. But you will learn to love and respect good Beer and Wine as a form of art that it is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">7.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For as much as you hate Mumbai right now, the more you go around the world, the more you will come to love the place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">8.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You will fall in love with Sour bread and Gouda cheese.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">9.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This year will be your life’s toughest year yet. I am 29 and I haven’t had a worse year that what the 19th would be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">10.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But that’s alright. You know, easy years make for good memories, tough years make for good character</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">11.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The older you get, fewer people will impress you, which is great, ‘cause that means you must be getting better</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">12.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Remember how you wanted to buy a Skoda by the time you hit 28? Well, you didn’t buy a Skoda, but an even better car last year. And yes, it’s a German car.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">13.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You should exercise more, not to build biceps or anything, just to, generally keep fit. And anyway, I have found only 19 year old girls dig biceps. The rest you can charm with your stories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">14.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yeah, we write stories now. You will publish a novel, actually two. (<a href="http://www.amazon.in/Underdog-1-Arshat-Chaudhary/dp/9351046818/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1405021940&sr=1-3" target="_blank">Buy the second novel here</a>)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">15.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You remember the World Cup last year? 2003? How sad that made you. Well, let me tell you this – We win the World Cup soon and that last ball six, I cant even… You have to watch it dude. It gave me Goosebumps</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">16.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You are not going to have a girlfriend. Not till you are out of Engineering. Don’t feel bad, it’s mechanical Engineering dude! What did you think? Think of this time as batting on a crumbling pitch, if you can play this out, you will score on your day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">17.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You will buy a lake-facing house. It’s beautiful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">18.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You will lose some hair and some of the others will grow grey but with each passing year they would bother you less than they did the previous year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">19.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The older you get the better you are going to get at charming women. You know that pretty girl in Computer Science you think is out of your league? You will manage to woo women way hotter than her, like wayyyy hotter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">20.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You will fall in love with your parents with every passing year. You will come to see them more as human beings susceptible to making mistakes. You will realize they did the best job they could do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">21.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You remember that girl from school you used to find cute? Well, she’s still out of your league.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">22.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And btw, you married her. It is awesome. But still, out of your league</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">23.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Petrol will become three times as expensive in the next decade</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">24.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I know how much you love the Reebok brand. You have so many Tshirts and shoes. The 29 year old you doesn’t own a single Reebok product. Sorry, I just grew out of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">25.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Enjoy your jeans and Tshirts. Casual Friday is a big deal when you start working.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">26.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You know how you wish you weren’t so shy? Well, you have made some amazing friends. Some of them would give their lives for you. The amazing part is, for all your selfishness, you would too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">27.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If I told you my salary, you are gonna freak out. But don’t, remember what I told you about petrol? Everything’s more expensive in 2014.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">28.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You will visit more than 13 countries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">29.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No matter what you think about life right now, if you keep at it, earnestly, it would get better. Much better than you ever imagined. Life is tough, 19 is a good age to realize it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>So thank you for everything you have done till now. Right now, I wouldn’t wanna be you but I wouldn’t be me, if at some point in my life I hadn’t been you. So, thank you.</i></span></div>
<div>
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</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-73269016763477345942014-07-06T12:00:00.000+05:302014-07-06T12:00:26.391+05:30Of Orkut, confidence and my girlfriend...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDwOkNyGIhivg5BIsFBCD_5858d1T0EmeqA-lvMsEI4KXCLX0MkRyj66plX0ACZ41JpLdg5PKqO3Y2FaX-NMneADnLg95v1YRJiTXw242ODeEgI6LckLOFZ-9eZ4vnanUMrX17T0eabRU/s1600/orkute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDwOkNyGIhivg5BIsFBCD_5858d1T0EmeqA-lvMsEI4KXCLX0MkRyj66plX0ACZ41JpLdg5PKqO3Y2FaX-NMneADnLg95v1YRJiTXw242ODeEgI6LckLOFZ-9eZ4vnanUMrX17T0eabRU/s1600/orkute.jpg" height="143" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
"Tu orkut pe hai?" asked Rahul Bhat or Bhatti as he was known. Puberty had hit him late and in his 2nd year of engineering this genius of the class was asking me if I was on Orkut.<br />
<br />
I kid you not, I thought it was some sort of software, something related to mechanical design or analysis or something. The year was 2005 and I wasnt too much into anything those years so you could forgive me for not knowing what had already started to become a phenomena in India back then. I called it the #1 thing that changed India in the last 10 years. <a href="http://thetimepassofindia.blogspot.in/2011/01/10-things-that-changed-india-in-last-10.html" target="_blank">You can read that blog post here</a>.<br />
<br />
But this is not a nostalgic post highlighting the good old days of Orkut and superior privacy and how they didnt conduct <a href="http://www.latimes.com/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-facebook-study-20140703-story.html" target="_blank">experiments on its users</a>. This is a post about how Orkut empowered guys like me. How it made us more confident among other things.<br />
<br />
I was a shy guy. I would never be able to walk up to anyone and say hi. It always had to be the other guy. If it was a girl I had a crush on, she would never know till many years later by which she would have already changed two boyfriend and the newest one would have a CBZ (its a bike, kinda big deal back then)<br />
<br />
There's this song by Boyzone, dont remember all the lyrics, but it goes - <i>It's only words, and words is all I have to take your heart away</i>. -- Those words could be spoken words, or thanks to Orkut, these words could now be written. Much simpler for guys like me, we could write things down, without having the fear of shot down or laughed at. You like a girl in your class? Or Computer Science class? (if you are an Mech Engineering student) Send her a friend request. If she accepts it could mean only 3 things -<br />
<br />
1. She likes you back<br />
2. She has no idea who the hell you are but shes nice so doesnt want to seem smug<br />
3. She just wants to increase the number of friends.<br />
<br />
It was usually the 3rd one. But that was okay. Boys like us were one inch closer to girls. Maybe the girls will say hi the next time they meet in the hallway. How could they not, we were "Orkut friends" after all. Even if they didnt, it was okay. We could always send them a scrap - <i>You looked very nice at the freshers' party.</i> 3 other boys would paste the exact same thing below. Demand supply mein problem hai actually...<br />
<br />
I found myself on Orkut. Though a late adopter, I was hooked immediately. It was so much fun. You could form communities, troll your friends, scrap each other and the best part - Write testimonials. There were 3 types of testimonial writers -<br />
<br />
1. Who write testis only for friends out of genuine respect for friendship<br />
2.Who write testis expecting a testi in return<br />
3. Who write testis only for girls, praising them, hoping they would notice them and talk to them, heck even go out with them.<br />
<br />
Mostly 3rd type.<br />
<br />
I am thankful to Orkut. It made me the cool guy that you see today and wonder how he can be so awesome. But seriously, I got my long time girlfriend and now wife on Orkut. No, no, I didnt send her a frandship request or anything. We were friends in school and then she moved to the United States. Somehow she found me on orkut and added me.<br />
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She was always out of my league. Today, for as awesome as I am, I still think I am striving to be better everyday so that I can deserve her. If I feel that when I am so full of myself today, had I met her in person back then, it would have been impossible for me to woo her. Orkut and the distance between us made sure we didnt meet face to face too much and I got my written words to do the talking for me.<br />
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Orkut gave me the confidence guys like me deserve. There are so many of us out there, ladies, its sad most of you would never manage to meet us, had it not been for Orkut. I feel the we live in a much better world now where most of us have a level playing field. And this is not just for romantic relationships.<br />
<br />
Now that they are shutting it down, I feel sad. It seems like yesterday Bhatti had animatedly asked me to come on Orkut. I want to thank him for the idea. I havent logged on to the site in ages. But I didnt think they would turn it off. For me, it was something I would show my kids to -- this is where it all started. Maybe they would read this post one day and marvel at the times gone by.<br />
<br />
<i>But for this moment, all I wanna do is, save and read my testimonials again and again and again</i>...<br />
<br />
-Arshat Chaudhary</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-14209513939721760812014-06-02T19:57:00.001+05:302014-06-02T19:57:46.175+05:30Lovers. Strangers. Friends. In no particular order<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><span style="color: #999999;">Short story</span></i><br />
<br />
STRANGERS:<br />
<br />
"Oops"<br />
<br />
She bumped into him. It was like bumping into a brick wall. She had almost forgotten how strong and fit he was. Well, maybe he wasnt all that fit. It had been quite some time she had been in a man's arms. Even a teddy bear the right size would do right now.<br />
<br />
She wore a loose brown sweater, like the brown of her eyes he had said. It wasnt even that chilly. She hadnt worn this since a long time. Who would she dress up for now anyway?<br />
<br />
He looked at her apologetically. Like it was his mistake she had bumped into him. Like it was his mistake that they had lost each other, like on a deserted island. He held plastic bags in both his hands. Bags full of tomatoes. He was going to make Pasta sauce at home. Cooking got his mind off her. And he was ready to do anything to get his mind off her. Known each other 7 years. 7 years! Now strangers.<br />
<br />
<br />
LOVERS:<br />
<br />
"What do you want for dinner?" he asked.<br />
"Nothing with tomato in it" she said.<br />
"What? Look at them" he said holding two medium sized tomatoes in his hands - "They are looking at you. They want to be eaten by you" He brought them close to her cheeks. "See? Your cheeks look just like them? Red Red"<br />
"What? My cheeks look like tomatoes?" She hit him with a cushion. "What compliments you give! Wah!"<br />
He pulled her close to him. She felt his strong arms engulf her in a strong embrace. She liked his strong arms. 5 years they had been together, 5 years! But every time he held her like that, she felt like it was the first time.<br />
<br />
<br />
FRIENDS:<br />
<br />
"Dont write like that, the professors going to know it wasnt my mom who wrote the letter." She said.<br />
"Well, I cant write like a girl. I have man hands and a man's handwriting."<br />
<br />
She had been bunking classes. He was in the athletics teams and there was a track and fields event. Professors single handedly try to kill every love story that has a chance of blooming in college. They probably share drinks and talk about how many love stories they foiled that day.<br />
<br />
So one over zealous professor had seen her cheering her friend at the event. And he wanted her to get a note signed by her mom. That is what it was all about.<br />
<br />
"If I get caught in this mister, I am going to kill you," she said punching him in the arm.<br />
"Well, I didnt ask you to bunk classes, did I?"<br />
<br />
The lack of chivalry in him made her wonder how did they become friends.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it wasnt for my cheering, you would have never won."<br />
"Oh really?"<br />
"Yeah, Lady luck dude."<br />
"Actually, I almost lost cause of you."<br />
"And how is that?"<br />
"I get very distracted" He said looking at her, not a blink.<br />
"'Cause of me?" She said, a smile peeping out of her lips.<br />
"Yeah. You are pretty. Didnt I ever tell you that."<br />
<br />
Not a blink.<br />
<br />
She looked away.<br />
<br />
They had been together 2 years.. 2 years... And now the idiot makes the move.<br />
<br />
<br />
STRANGERS<br />
<br />
It was the first day of college. Uncannily chilly in that part of the city. Maybe it was too early. Or the anxiety of having to make new friends. She wore a brown sweater.<br />
<br />
Trying hard to not get raged on her first day at college, she made sure she kept looking at the ground, not making eye contact with any of the seniors.<br />
<br />
"Oops" He bumped into her. She was soft, like a pillow, for the lack of a better analogy. There werent many soft things he owned. No teddy bears and shit.<br />
<br />
"Sorry," he said, quickly diverting his brain from the softness of things. "I didnt see you there"<br />
<br />
'Such a terrible thing to hear from a guy. He didnt see you.' She thought.<br />
<br />
There was a moment of awkwardness. Then he said, almost trying to fill the vaccuum in the timeline -<br />
"You should wear brown, makes the brown in your eyes look even prettier"<br />
<br />
She smiled.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5CHGZoa7eCoyVwIH0S0x7TwOKMjCe9xMkkmHSSisfnbcJhPJjxuSOxOO-Pzk_K-r2T5L470MUdMg5AyZBBMLCiueTblfRh14kDFWdXTV0RXRNYBUl3rqrLTD_InVIc2c3syw0Xg_blr0/s1600/Lovers-love-31878829-524-482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5CHGZoa7eCoyVwIH0S0x7TwOKMjCe9xMkkmHSSisfnbcJhPJjxuSOxOO-Pzk_K-r2T5L470MUdMg5AyZBBMLCiueTblfRh14kDFWdXTV0RXRNYBUl3rqrLTD_InVIc2c3syw0Xg_blr0/s1600/Lovers-love-31878829-524-482.jpg" height="294" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
END<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #666666;">I read a line somewhere - Strangers. Friends. Lovers. Strangers.</span></i><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><i>It made me kinda sad and I wanted to write on the topic. So I wrote in the reverse order, coz that be more challenging.</i> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-61625451954584769792014-03-30T21:13:00.001+05:302014-03-30T21:13:47.219+05:30Why I will not vote this election!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">You either die a hero</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain (From the Dark Knight)</span></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I will tell you a couple of stories before I start making real points that have some chance of swaying your vote, let me tell you a few stories first, simply coz that is the only thing I am good at.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">It was just after the commonwealth games had ended. I was half a globe away in Berlin, attending a conference on Effect of a drug on TB. The company I worked for had paid an American firm to conduct clinical trials on patients suffering from TB using our drug. They were awefully behind schedule - their reason - TB patients they had were usually poor Indians who didnt appearon time for their next dosage - The presentation was given by a lady with an American accent but who clearly had an Arabic name - She actually included pictures of Suresh Kalmadi and Commonwealth Games to show how corrupt and disorganised Indians are, unaware that I, sitting right in front of her was an Indian. While my blood boiled (We all have a bit of Sunny Deol in us, I guess) and I was about to give her a piece of my mind, my Australian boss whispered in my ear - Let it go...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I let it go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">In another incident, a friend of mine, came late to college. It must be 2006 and I must be in the third year of Engineering. He told me a weird reason for him coming late to class - The brakes on his bus failed.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Okay. So, I wil let that sink in. How did he make it alive? As it turns out - The bus had no brake when it left the depot. It just fucking did! A public vehicle, meant to take people from one point to another, albeit only 5 kms, didnt have working brakes! How does one catch the bus then? The driver slows down, not by braking, coz there are no brakes but by taking the foot off the accelerator. People run and catch the bus. Why not take the next bus then? The next bus was after an hour. And while all of this might seem like a far off village, he stayed only 3 kms off the border of Mumbai!!!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">How was this okay? I asked him. He's a resilient guy. Son of a tailor, he's now made it decently big. Ever smiling, he said - Let it go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I let it go.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I was 18 when I got my learners' driving licence. It was tough work. They asked me all sorts of questions, made me run from counter to counter. I was 18. I was convinced that I dont want to pay any money to the If a man cant have ideals at that age, then really when can he? I got the licence and came home triumphant. When I had to convert the learners licence to Drivers' licence is however when they got me. They wouldnt pass me if I didnt pay a bribe. Of course, they didnt say that directly. I paid. Felt terribly, shared with a cousin. He told me how I dont have to renew my licence for the next 20 years! I could chill out. I should let it go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I have been letting stuff go for years now. Life, especially a man's life, really is all about learning the rules of the game, play according to the system, and wheevr possible beat the system for good. Indians are good at walking in a herd. It's easy. And safe. We dont wanna be excellent or anything. We just wanna be above average. Imagine a country of a billion just wanting to be above average. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">When a man stood against well established parties with crores of funds, stepped into the public domain, some were amazed at his courage. He could obviously not win, could he. But he almost did. A party with years of combined governance experience emerged as a single largest party, and to everyone's surprise asked the new guy to make a government! Wow! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Masterstroke, though. It exposed AAP's lack of experience in governance, lack of penetration in the lower ranks. Media crazy AAP MLAs obviously didnt know how to work. In the meanwhile, the BJP suporters (God bless them) who had been waiting to form a government for 10 years in the centre, could see a ray of light. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Abki baar Modi Sarkar. Abki baar Modi Sarkar.Abki baar Modi Sarkar. Abki baar Modi Sarkar. Bas kar yaar.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">So many of their ads are playing on prime time. I am like, let them win if they will shut up. They did their India Shining campaign in 2004, and we all know how that turned out. Someone remind them of that time.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">I see Modi peering out of posters, giving serious look, like a few thousand died in Gujurat (Oh.. wait...) How many more months will I have to see the same orange posters with the same - Abki baar Modi Sarkar! - Slogan. Modi is like Mithun Chakrabothy. He can be a part of a shit movie and it will still be a hit. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Just to make it clear, I am not a Modi hater. I once was, but not now. I meet HNI clients, most of them Gujurati, and all of them praise the efficiency of the babus in dhokla land. And one thing that I know is if a Mumbai guy says that theres a place better than Mumbai then its gotta be true. All my friends who hae visited Surat, Ahmadabad have been all gaga over their roads, 24/7 electricity, clean footpaths. And let me make it clear, if Modi stood from my constituency, I would definitely vote for him.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Also let me clear that I am not too impressed by Congress' ads either. Rahul Gandhi, in deep thought, showing his dimpled profile for the female voters, annoys me. His speeches are fun though. Anyway, Congress is not going to win, and should not win, so I will not waste any words.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">You know, whose ads I have been impressed by? AAPs! Because I havent seen any. That is exactly how it should be. BJP is selling itself more than SRK sold Ra.One. And we all know when people oversell - when the goods are crap. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">When people call BJP govt - Modi sarkar, it pisses me off. It wont be Modi sarkar. It would be Modi - Rajnath- Jaitley- Swaraj sarkar. And none of these guys should impress you.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">On the other hand, you have Kejriwal - Sanyal - Medha - Bhushan sarkar. And that sounds a lot better than the above. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Imagine India's governance as a white bed sheet. There are numerous stains on this bed sheet. Poor Justice system, Poor roads, Public transport, poverty... They are stains of various sizes. They are chai stains, pickle stains, piss and blood stains. But the biggest stain of them all, or as ads call it - Ziddi daag - is Corruption. If we can get rid of this, we will be a super power. Kejriwal's party is the Tide we all are waiting for.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Read all three of my stories, Commonwealth made us a laughing stock because of corrupt officals. The driver could driver an unsafe bus because he knew he wouldnt be reprimanded. And why was the bus in such poor shape? It's one of India's richest districts!! I had to pay for the liscence because the RTO is corrupt, and so am I. I am not much better than all the others I am cribbing about here. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">But this guy - Kejriwal is. He might be attention hungry, he might not be a great Governor, he might be the B team of Congress or BJP or the CPM, but hes not corrupt. And that is what we need at this moment. Modi, even if I accept is not corrupt, his party is - Let us not forget Bangaru Laxman. And to be honest, if I had a party which grew as big as the BJP, I would have to be corrupt. I would be pushed by my peers to accept, Adani's offer of a Chopper and a lot more that I cant waste my time writing about. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">And that is why I wont vote this time. Not for AAP even. Because its just like buying a car. You spend time researching what car to buy, what fits the budget, what suits your personality, what would your friends think about you when you drive it to the office, and then you spend time convincing them what a great car it is coz you bought it. It might actually be a great car, but your friends wont buy it. My wife and my sister both tell me that when I like something, I sell the idea of owning it to everybody. The said thing might not be as excellent as I make it sound.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">So I have decided I wont buy the car, but I would want you to buy it. It is a great car. It is an honest car. It might not have the comfortable seats, but it has a great engine. And that is what matters in the end. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><i>Abki baar, Ek aisi sarkar, jo kare Bharat ka udhaar!</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><i>Jai Hind!</i></span></span></div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-47697775677834570672014-02-07T20:35:00.001+05:302014-02-07T20:35:33.477+05:308 things you get to eat only in Mumbai<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay, first, the title is misleading - when I say ONLY in Mumbai, I mean the good stuff is in Mumbai. Like - in my Bschool at Gurgaon, they served a mis-mash of potatoes and oversized buns (which for some reason had a sweet aftertaste) which the mess would lovingly call - bhaji pao! First, it is not bhaji pao - it is Pav Bhaji and Second - just because you overbought potatoes last week and mashed them with whatever was left in the kitchen, doesnt make it pav bhaji! But what pissed me off was that my north Indian colleagues, perfectly sane 99 percentilers, loved this mixed vegetable masquerading as pav bhaji.<br />
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So you see, you can get bhaji pav etc in Delhi too, but it cant be counted as pav bhaji. The real pav bhaji, you get only in Mumbai. Based on this and many other such experiences, here is a list of 8 things you get to eat only in Mumbai<br />
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1. Pav Bhaji.<br />
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Delicious, melt in your mouth pav, and right amount of cauliflower, peas and potatoes, made to cook on a flat tava consistently mashing the ingredients together makes the bhaji. Amul butter makes 17% of its revenues from the pav bhaji stalls in Mumbai. (Fun trivia - Sanjay dutt played a pav bhaji wala in Vastav in the first 20 mins of the film after which he played himself)<br />
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2. Medu Vada Sambhaar<br />
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The first Shetty sailed from Udipi to Mumbai, then Bombay, in 1890. He then brought in 100 other shettys (or is it Shetties?) with him to serve the Parsi/Irani population with real breakfast, something that did not involve just maida and butter (80% of Parsi person is made of these ingredients.). Then he came up with an idea- a Vada with the hole - Medu Vada (which Maharastrians wrongly refer to as Mendu Vada. Mendu is brain in marathi, which makes no sense)<br />
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Thanks to Shetty population in Mumbai, the bachelors have learnt to have breakfast. This dish alone is responsible for mass migration of Shettys from Udipi to Mumbai. This also includes Suniel Shetty and Shilpa Shetty.<br />
Today, you find better Medu Vada in Mumbai than what you find in Udipi. (Tasted and compared on multiple occasions)<br />
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3.Vada Pav<br />
It is a shame that I have mentioned it 3rd. It should be mentioned first on every list. Even the list of who should be the next PM candidate of India. It should be this dish. Enough has been said about it and I dont intend to say anything more. It is the king of the world. Bas. Khup said.<br />
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4.Peppy cheese ball<br />
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This is not available north of the Tropic of Cancer. The frequency of their availabilty is what I am referring to when I say you can get it only in Mumbai.<br />
It can make you free of your worries for those blissful 20 mins when you are tossing, light cheese ball after cheese ball in your mouth.(That line sounded much better in my head).<br />
If you are in India and are wondering what is this Peppy cheese balls I talk about - search for it and buy it online (obviously it has a fan club)<br />
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5. Misal Pav<br />
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Punekars take huge pride in their Misal Pavs but the best misal pav place here would find it difficult to find takers in Mumbai. Here is the Misal pav formula -<br />
Misal pav = Fluffy pav + Farsan (100% besan) + Sprouted peas (and not moong as Punekars use)<br />
If you can follow this formula, you make the best misal pav in Mumbai, ipso facto, the world. Mumbaikars around the world would remind each other of the goodness of your Misal pav, and want to come back - It would be their Swades and you would be their Ashutosh. Your kids would proudly tell their friends - Mera baap misal pav banata hai. All that.<br />
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6. Pani puri<br />
What you get in other parts of India is not Pani puri - it is either gol-gappe, or gupchup or some other acoustic name, but it is not Pani-puri. You get Pani puri only here. Its not the taste that I am a fan of - It is the pseudo safety feeling these guys give me when they say "Pani puri made with bisleri water". Some of them have gone ahead and even got the ice that is used to cool the pani too, made with bisleri water.<br />
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7. Sugar cane juice<br />
By now you must have realised where this list is going. You get Sugar cane juice almost throughout India's sugar belt, but not in Plastic glasses with a dash of lemon and pepper. Have a glass when you are down. It is India's answer to red bull.<br />
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8. Butta<br />
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No, not corn but butta. The roasting system is the same across India but what differs is the spicing. Down south, a wet mix of chilli and what might be nuclear waste is used to spice the corn. Up north, they have the hardest corn of all world. Your jaw gives up after three bites. The spicing doesnt matter when you are eating steel bearings.<br />
In Mumbai however, the right spicing and roasting technique is used. Also, now this American corn has swept the market which is just as shitty as other American products, Cheverlot, I am looking at you. It is sweet and soft, like too soft. I want a option between soft as a Katrina Kaif and hard as Rahul Gandhi's luck.<br />
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I am sure I have missed a few things, feel free to add stuff to the list.<br />
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I am so hungry now. Peace.</div>
Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985367622722283918.post-19751719572512216252014-02-05T20:59:00.001+05:302014-02-05T20:59:59.924+05:30The weight of the soul and sand....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I thought of this today. I think of so many amazxing things but since I have a job that takes up much of my time and creativity I don’t get to share the gems with you guys.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGVlY8_nR737LcQXTlyq53mDV2lg54Lczx1J6-DpphvHipyK52b0a9rIdHqApBACMaplrmKWHI4PDDVCsapPDJMRjtH7a-Qm9RfMuwJWaMszwZ9PmvuiSuAuOpHMiScAm4VWmwkr6UZEy/s1600/Sand_dunes_1600x1200-Wallpaper-1024x768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGVlY8_nR737LcQXTlyq53mDV2lg54Lczx1J6-DpphvHipyK52b0a9rIdHqApBACMaplrmKWHI4PDDVCsapPDJMRjtH7a-Qm9RfMuwJWaMszwZ9PmvuiSuAuOpHMiScAm4VWmwkr6UZEy/s1600/Sand_dunes_1600x1200-Wallpaper-1024x768.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Everytime I get some brainwave, I want it to be like a story – you know start, middle and end – something that would enthrall you. But very recently, I have decided that I am going to share my half baked ideas with you and share the real gems with the guys who buy my books – the paying customers, you know! :P<br />
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I know what you be thinking – he writes once in abluemoon and acts like a turd, I am going to ctrl+w his shit. But wait – The wait has been worth it for this idea will change the way you look at life, well, not quite, but it’s a good idea, hold on –<br />
So, you know how kids ask what happens when we die and what is a soul and what is its nature? I think I know.<br />
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I think every man has a soul – wait – let me scientify it. A soul is not a single entity. Think of it like a pouch of grey sand (found on the bank of Yamuna). There is say 100 gms of such sand dissolved in you. These 100gms is unique to you. Not everybody has 100gms and not everybody has the same shade of grey.<br />
I already have a feeling I should stop here and share this with my paying customers, but anywho –<br />
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So, all living things have souls, right? That includes trees, and dogs and cockroaches, sure the cockroach might have only 3 gms of red coloured sand, but it has a soul alright.<br />
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Now as a rule, soul can neither be created nor be destroyed, it can be only moved from one living being to another. You know how they say at the beginning there was God – well, that might be true, he had a million gazillion gms of sand type soul which he later dispersed in living beings – also known as the big bang – into small bacteria like life forms, gazillion of them probably, each having 0.0001 gms of sand as the soul.<br />
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Oh, we have gotten the deep end of the pool. Let us go now to the much more enjoyable shallow end – How do babies get their soul and when?<br />
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I think as soon as the sperm and the egg mate, the baby gets a soul – a teeny tiny 0.001 gms of soul maybe, but a soul nevertheless. As it grows in the womb, the growth of the soul remains stagnant. Let me clarify at this point that just because something is growing doesn’t mean its soul is growing too, also the weightage of the soul isn’t directly proportional to its weight. For eg – an elephant might have less of a soul than a man or a dog for that matter. Also the soul grammage differs from elephant to elephant.<br />
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Once the baby is born, when it starts crying, it is for a few seconds just surviving on the 0.001 gms of soul that it had for the 9 months of its inception, its only when it gains awareness does it get its entire soul. For babies that are stillborn, there is only 0.001 gm of soul that nature has to recycle which I am assuming is easier. Sorry for being so morbid and insensitive at the same time, but bear with me.<br />
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When a human dies, their soul is no longer of use to them and is recycled by nature. It need not be immediately recycled though. The babies yet to be born in the particular humans’ family, I think, have first dib’s, to get a part of that soul. That is why, so many kids have the peculiar habits that their great grandparents had.<br />
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Some characterstics are pre-coded into your soul, just like some people have blue eyes, some have a dark soul, they don’t wanna help others, are jealous, cranky.. while others might be more helpful, polite, loyal…<br />
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Nature vs Nurture<br />
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I strongly believe Nature wins over nurture big time. The fact that most souls remain in a family getting passed from great grandpa/ma to great grandson/daughter, a bad souled grandpa would lead to a bad family. I might be over simplifying but what I basically wanna say is this – If the parents didn’t do a good job of nurturing a kid, maybe the kid wasn’t worth it. Do I hear the knives being drawn?<br />
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I have no way to justify it, but I think, a good kid would do well, irrespective of what the parents’ report card says. Also, I am saying that parents do less for the kids who they know aren’t good seed.<br />
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Hmm…Maybe is this is why I don’t publish half baked ideas. But this one has taken quite a bit of time to write and it would be a shame to hide it in my documents folder – So here I click the publish button – Swish!<br />
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Arshat Chaudharyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05410175680648355947noreply@blogger.com1