The confessions of a clueless mind

People tell me I look younger than I am. Normally I'd be thrilled to hear that, but not when it comes from a client in a professional context. This has happened to me at least 4 times in the past month. I was in KL a couple of days last month on a few meetings. At one of these meetings, when I was introducing myself and talking about my near 10 year experience, one of the ladies quipped “ You look like you have just passed out of college. You don’t look like you have been working for all these years ”. And the guy along with her added, “ Are you counting your part-time on-campus experience as well? ”. If you have interacted with Chinese people, you’ll know that they betray zero emotion when they speak. More so with Chinese from Singapore/ Malaysia who are so “ kiasu ” that they are very measured and economic even in showing emotions. Which is why I am unsure if all the comments on my age were intended to make me feel good or bad. I was, therefore, left wondering and had to excus...

Kaminey has easily been the best reviewed movie of recent times among the Bollywood lot. Almost all the reviewers have been unanimous in their rating of the movie, and have been unabashed in their praises. Clearly, everyone seems to agree that Vishal Bharadwaj has a masterpiece on his hands. And Shahid Kapoor has arrived. Amidst all the euphoria and with great expectations, I watched Kaminey here in Singapore. Incidentally, this is my first movie in a theatre here for over a year, thanks to our little son who threatens to embarrass us every time we attempt to parade him in public. Since the plot and the characters have been described in lurid details in myriad reviews, I’ll save myself and the readers the trouble. Instead, I’ll play the critic. The movie, undoubtedly, is in a genre of its own. Or if you include Hollywood, this would be the Quentin Tarantino genre. Slick, crisp, pacy, hard-hitting and very contemporary. The movie runs at such a frenetic pace that you don’t want...

As I saw the news flash at the Breakfast Buffet on the 26th June about Michael Jackson's death, I went blank for a moment since this was truly shocking. But that momentary feeling of loss passed, and I continued with my hectic activities for the day. I was in Chennai for a series of meetings and seminars, and I had too much on my mind to keep me occupied. That, and also the fact that my memories of MJ had, over the years, been relegated to my subconscious mind. Over the next couple of days, the media went berserk with tributes and dedications to Michael, bringing back the memories from the days when Michael Jackson was a God. Slowly, but surely, the memories that long been banished to the lesser used confines of my mind assumed center-stage. And then it all started coming back. The King was Dead. Gone forever. Gone too soon. As a child growing up in the 80’s, I couldn’t escape the Michael Jackson magic despite the fact that I spent most of my early life in a non-descri...

All your life, you struggle and strive to achieve your goals. And you think that, and only that, is the key to happiness. You set lofty targets for yourself, and spend your entire youth slogging your butt and selling your soul to get there. For happiness awaits you there, or so you believe. You forget to stop and smell the roses. You don’t have time for a whiff of fresh air. A casual stroll in the evening is too much time wasted. An evening with the folks is an opportunity cost. If you are not living on the edge, you sincerely believe you are wasting too much space. Relationships are transactional for you, and you do whatever is necessary to keep them alive. Barely. And finally, you reach there. The happy place . But alas, there is no happiness that you feel. You are contented. There is certainly relief. But no happiness. And then you realize happiness does not await you at the destination. It was with you all along the journey. You realize that it is not about the ...

 I finally managed to devour all the 933 pages of “ Shantaram ”, the “autobiography” of Gregory David Roberts. If it was even a part true story, the man is a miracle. Regardless, it is a very well written book, and as long as one doesn’t get too hung up on the veracity of the true accounts that the author narrates, it makes for fantastic reading.  Gregory Roberts, known as Lin on the streets of Mumbai, was an escaped Australian convict, who found a home in Mumbai, where he could finally live a free life. During his years in Mumbai, he made many friends and several enemies, and lost quite a few of them. He also found true love, and lost it to the bitter games that were played in the Mafia background. He worked for the Mumbai mafia , but claimed to have never joined them since he did what he did for the people he believed in, rather than the cause that they represented. The book details Lin’s journey from his arrival in Mumbai, to his life in the Slums and his role as the sl...

I was pleasantly surprised at how popular the “ Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women ” had become on the internet forums and Social Networking websites. “ Pleasantly ” not because I advocate the cause, but because it shows that the Indian Woman has finally come of age.   She is not afraid to express herself on a public forum, even if it means she has to abase herself as “ loose ”. Many of my women friends, from academic and professional circles, have been very vocal in their support for the cause and have proudly proclaimed that they went to a pub on V-day and got themselves drunk silly. And that they sent a clear message to the Shri Ram Sena (SRS) that Indian women are not going to be confined to the age-old traditions of Hindutva by sending their “ pink chaddis ” to the SRS. That they are no longer a homely,   demure and soft-spoken tribe. As opposed to that, they are now a pub-going, loose and forward tribe.  Cause for celebration..yippeee! On a more pragmatic note,...