Come here, Don’t Fear. There’s Beer!

 

Don’t have much time, but I simply had to stop to share this.

 

That’s one more detail I have to put down in my ‘interiors’ book. Its the book where I keep a note of things I must remember while planning interiors of my dream home.

When it finally gets ready, you are welcome of course. You can come in and scream.

To Do, Or Not To Do?

I recently discovered one significant, yet unnoticed fallout of crossing the dreadful 30-year landmark of life.

And that is losing the ability to laugh hysterically at shallow Agony Aunt columns.

But before I spread panic and anxiety among my readers, let me quickly suggest that you relax and take a deep breath. That particular source of inconsequential joy life offers us is not entirely under threat. Regardless of whether you are 30, 35 or 60.

In my case, I am finding it increasingly difficult to laugh at one particular column that deals with the problems of the young adult audience. This column addresses the agony of late teens and twenty somethings that have social adjustability problems for whatever reason.

This particular Aunt, with a name Martha, has one solution to ALL problems. Consider a few -

“Hi Martha, I am Teju from  Colaba, and I hate college because I don’t have any friends. I feel no one wants to talk to me because I am fat.”

Hi M, I am Lucky from Chandigarh. My classmate cum best friend from the age of 2 and I had a bad fight yesterday. I feel very depressed. I don’t know what to do. Please help!”

“Hi M, I am Evenmore  Lucky from Chandigarh. I finally managed to pick a really bad dirty fight with this girl who has been annoying me from the time I was 2. We ended the fight on a very bitter note and it has given me great hope and now I look forward to the rest of my life. My worry is, what if she wants to make up? Please tell me how to keep that bitch out of my life. She pisses the life out of me and I don’t want her again in my life.”

Hi Martha, I am an 24 year old girl and I have had 3 crushes so far. Once when the lock fell on my big toe, the other time when my dad ordered the orange flavour and the crush came in a nice cocktail glass. The last Crush I had was in my iPod – by Jennifer Paige and someone deleted the song by mistake. Do you think it is normal for me to feel this way? All my friends laugh at me and even my elder sister keeps giggling when I tell her about my crushes.

And Martha advises:

Teju from Colaba: Teju, you sound like a very nice and sincere boy. I think you must not feel bad about being fat. You suffer from what is called a bad body image. It is the personality inside you that is more important. So meet more people and find more hobbies to do. You will be happy with the results!

Lucky from Chandigarh: Hi Lucky, I am very sad to hear about your fight. Learn to love yourself for what you are. Look at the mirror everyday and say “I love you”, “you are a wonderful person” say this 40,000 times each and every morning(if you lose count, you must start over from 1 again). Such incidents will happen less frequently because it will leave you little time for anything. Soon you will be able to have a better body image and like yourself for the way you are and others will stop fighting with you!

Evenmore Lucky: Hi Even More. Your friend seems to be a horrible person and a rotten pain-in-the-donkey clinger. But you must learn to become more comfortable with who you really are deep down inside in the hollow depths of that mindless awkwardly shaped skull. When I was young I felt that way every time I had a fight with someone. Especially when I hear a loud crack after slamming a big cricket bat on the persons head. But I took a long time – about 9 years and 49 cracks – to realize that though there was some joy it was short lived. You really need to make peace with yourself and love yourself more. A good body image helps a lot.

Hi 24 year old: You haven’t left a name, so I can’t really help you a lot with such limited information, but I think nothing is bad. Everyone is normal. The next time you have a crush, ask yourself what is really affecting you. If it is because you are a little more plump than the other people in your age, then you know what your problem is. A bad body image can give you many sleepless nights. Begin to like yourself and you can yourself give a crush to that cute boy in your office that you like – in fact you can make him scream and beg! Just find a right moment and sit on him! 

That’s Martha. The great Agony Aunt.

Why I cannot laugh anymore is because when I think about it, no matter what problem of mine I write to Aunt Martha about, she is going to get it right about the biggest problem I have in my life right now.

Yes, my dear faithful reader. I have a bod bady image. And I hate to admit it so much that I had to mis-spell it. If it wasn’t your unshakable love for me and your faith and obsession with this incredible blog, I would have little in life that would give me a reason to push on.

Sigh.

It’s true.The first signs began in September last year. My neighbour knocked on the door and asked if I was OK.

“Yeah I am. Why? Should something be wrong?”
“No no. Not at all. Just dropped in to say hello. So, Hello. (Hehehe.Muahahaha)”
“Hello.”
“OK… Bye”
“Bye”

I didn’t know it then, but my neighbour was actually wondering why he didn’t anymore hear my mad, hyena-like hysterical laugh every Wednesday morning. For, you see, that is when I read Aunt Martha’s column.

A few Wednesday s later, I stared at the situation in the eye and understood the deeper undercurrents.

I enrolled in a Gym. And the swimming club. For three months it was incredible. I enjoyed every moment in the pool and every stretch in the gym. I lost 4 kg and was my average 71kg self again.

And then as usual bad luck struck me. My Airoli days began. And the pool went out of one window and the gym out the other. And back came the 4kg flying. Bringing a 2 kg friend along.

And the 6kg now weighs me down. I can hear Aunt Martha’s hysterical laugh in the distance. I can hear Teju, Lucky, Evenmore Lucky and the 24 year old girl who left no name, all laughing in lunatic Ecstasy. All of them rolling about the floor holding their stomachs as if to prevent their humongous guts from spilling out.

I nod my head in disgust. And immediately stop shaking my head when I feel my fat cheeks and the flab in the neck flap about in the air causing low pressure in the room. I look up heavenwards in dispair. My cheeks restrict the view and I suddenly can relate to how the world may look to a horse wearing blinkers.

“If you ever come back home rolling, I’ll never open the door for you” Said mom when I returned from Baroda 7 years ago with a waistline that went from 29 to 32 after being introduced to Gujju food.

I now have spare keys. I wear size 34. And I think I may need a new wardrobe.

But the brighter side is that I have a plan of two action points.

• Learn to have a good body image.
• And then get rid of that image.

Hmmmm. Sounds like a good plan. But the only reason I hesitate is that it might make my die-hard fans sad, for they will have less of me.

Troubling visions of upset fans, hunger-strikes and self-immolation bids tear me apart and compromise my resolve.

Life, like Aunt Martha, is a Bitch.

Left, Right and Centre!

Do this.

Think of the 3 most creative activities you can think of. It could be a profession. It could be a pastime, it could be art. Whatever. Whatever comes to your mind. 

What came to your mind? 

I sat the other day in an evolved ‘iron horse’. A train. The good old Bombay suburban electric train. 

Yes. The local, after a really long time I found myself in a local. 

Hold on. Before we proceed further, I have a responsibility I must fulfill. I have to establish before I set off punching keys, that there is no endangered carnivorous beast here yet. This is not about the Virar Local. And there really is no Tiger. 

Yet. 

I don’t want to create widespread disappointment and disillusionment. The Tiger will certainly come and when it does, I shall stand up on the rooftop of Air India building and shout till my voice becomes hoarse to announce its arrival. And I shall shout loud enough so you can hear it.  

For those of you reading Pathe for the first time and haven’t yet become familiar with it, a Virar local was to pull into this platform. Yes this very platform from where Pathe travels. There have been overt suggestions to this effect here and here, but the train seems to be terribly, terribly delayed. This has caused a lot of anxiety, disappointment and restlessness among the general public. And I have lost significant sleep and, this may well be hard to believe, hair.

And as the man responsible for its arrival on this platform, I have to ensure that I don’t mislead people eager for it when they hear me talk about Train and Local in the same breath. 

So go back in your chair from the edge. Relax your muscles. Let the hair on the nape of your neck settle. Sip a little water if you have to. 

And let’s get on with the rest of this post. Some derailment, I tell you! 

So I was in a local from Santa Cruz to Churchgate a few days back. And as I watched the stations flash by, I was reflecting about how in our professions we allow very little room for creativity. Of course we aren’t considering the obviously creative professions that involve some form of art – music or acting or writing or other such things – but regular office work. 

There certainly is scope for creativity – not denying that at all. But we don’t consciously implant it. Ingrain it. Some of us do it reflexively. But it isn’t a considered application. Its never a KRA item, if you know what I mean. Most of us tend to convert any work into a series of defined steps and in fact minimize scope for innovative improvements. Soon those defined steps rule our 8 or 10 hours of work and slowly, we become machines. 

That got me wondering – what are the activities that naturally requires creativity? There can be many depending on the kind of life you live and how your typical day pans out. But back to my question to you.

What were the three creative activities you came up with?  

Damn. I knew it. I knew you would miss cooking.  

Now, a huge chunk of people just throw in things and make something just to get by dinner. That kind of  ‘cooking’ is not what I mean. There is a different kind of cooking. A kind that you will know only if you have practiced it. A kind you can relate to only if you have expereinced it. Yes. There is a whole different dimension to cooking that I am trying to highlight.  

It is a state of mind.  

If you have reached that state, attained it, achieved it, even if it was just once, then you know what I am talking about. 

To you cooking is an experience. Not a chore.

And when you approach cooking with this state of mind, then I’ll be damned if you didn’t feel a buzz in your head, a tug at your heart and a song on your lips. That’s the precise point when you are experiencing it. Creativity, my friends, has kicked in. And if you find joy, it is because you are using fundamental logic – a recipe, to create and innovate, then I’ve driven home my idea. 

Cooking is probably one of the oldest extra-ordinary creative activities. What’s more, it has tremendous applied value! 

Let me take this thought one step further and I’ll then leave it there for you to think about. 

Simple creativity is applied at different levels when you set out to cook.  

Example 1: You open the fridge. Check what you have – an assortment of vegetables and perhaps eggs, meat and so on depending on your veg/non-veg orientation. Now with the available list of materials, you have to decide what to cook. That needs to also factor in assortment of masalas and other ingredients you need for cooking. And at every stage if you are the kind of cook that applies thorough thought, you would apply some level of creativity and judgment at each stage. Quantity of ingredients, their quantity, duration of cooking, degree of heat, and so on.   

Example 2.  You feel like eating something spicy. Or tangy. Or fried or roasted. Creativity sets in. Check available items that can be concocted into such a dish. 

But when it comes to cooking, there could be something far more significant than just simple creativity. 

Actually the word creativity besides being quite a boring and a much abused word, tells us only half the story. Let me put my thoughts in a different way – also reasonably boring and oft abused, but I believe I can make my point better on why cooking is a much evolved indulgence, nonetheless. 

The Left-Brain Right-Brain analogy.

 A few steps back then?  Ok.

When I said we tend to break work into series of steps, what I meant was we tend to make most of our 8-10 hours of work, a predominantly Left-Brain activity. Logical, methodical, rational, analytical, objective sequence of activities. This downplays our creative, intuitive, wacky faculties. 

Some forms of art are heavy Right-brained activities. Singing, painting and you know the rest. 

Each of us tends to be either more left-brained or more right-brained, as you know. Whole-brained, by the way, is the way to be. True intelligence, balanced, and stable is achieved when you can indulge both hemispheres and apply their combined output in various situations.

A perfect jugalbandi of left and right marks a balanced heightened state. That is the ultimate state to fancy. And if I could hazard a more debatable line, this balance can help you achieve physical, emotional, mental and spiritual aspects of being as I found out here!   

Taking this forward, any activity that combines the effort of both hemispheres encourages this jugalbandi is a good thing. And increasingly I realize that one inconspicuous activity – Cooking, can help you indulge in a jugalbandi and get that balance of left and right.

Use Logic, reason and all that in using a pre-defined recipe. Use imagination, innovation, to create your own innovation from the recipe.

 And that’s why it’s an incredible hobby. And if you end up making lip-smacking new dishes, you are unique my friend – you could be a very evolved human being! 

Chicken Fry Rice…

And women fry noodals?

Men on 4th floor try both. The sissys go for Bred Batter. And the in-betweens go for ‘ummm….uhhhh…ek woh deeejeeeye” and “aur ek woh deejeeeye”.

Life is slightly different here on the 4th floor. You can have Akka Masur without being put into the category of a cannibal. Or have Butt Scotch – or Butt Scrotch. Just dont hold on to it too tight. The Gombo Meel is sometimes good too, so long as its not Batora. The last time i had Cumboa Mele containing two glimmering circular rubber mats called for some reason Batura, I was soaked in Palmoil from head to toe. I left a trail of oil as I walked and a huge commotion of various people going ‘Aaaaaah..thud’ and ‘Oooooo…thud’ behind me as i walked on to the washroom. I am sure they were laughing at me, the asses. Like they’ve never seen a man all soaked in oil ever. So i turned with the sternest look I could muster, only to realize what a smarty-pants bunch of mockers they were. They tried to fool me by letting me think that they were too pre-occupied slipping and falling than to be mocking at me. Some of them were going ‘Weeeee’ across the floor and some were ramming themselves foolishly against chairs and cubicles. One guy did a flipflop and almost touched the cieling with the toe on his right leg.

I Couldnt care less. I just went ahead into the wash room to unsoak myself. What we Tambrams do on Diwali around some 4am i was doing everyweek on Betora day.

Theres no hope for me, what.

Well, so shove Batura. You could just go in for a Die Lunch on days T is not available.

In the evening you can chillax with a Mounton Do and have Maggy Noudul.

Welcome to the 4th Floor canteen. Where the letter said the better. I mean, the lessor said the bater. I mean the leaser sad the beter. Oh never mined.