Plain Luck or Calculated Mischief?

A business trip I had to make in August 2010 required me to pass through London city, and as the connecting flights were from different airports in London, I needed to apply for a transit/tourist visa for the United Kingdom. The travel agent recommended that I apply for a transit visa as it is quicker and does not require an interview and is expected to be processed and released in 4-5 working days.

With this assurance, I applied for the transit visa on the 11^th of August for a departure on 28^th August, giving them 12 working days to do a job that was supposed to take 5. Plenty of time one would be forgiven for thinking, but you can never underestimate Murphy. The visa centre prided itself on having an online application tracker where you could find out the status of your application. On day 5, the day I was expecting the visa to be released, the tracker said that my visa is being processed. That’s all…just these 5 words, which left me wondering about the purpose of the tracker in the first place, if all it existed for was to make redundant statements (similar to newspaper articles that end with “will it work? Only time will tell!”)

By day 9 (T-3 days), I had begun to fret a little and called the helpline mentioned on the website for information. To their credit, it was the fastest helpline that got me to a human voice (the phone companies are the worst) I had ever encountered. After giving her the information about my application number, I was made to hold for some time, raising my hopes of getting meaningful information, but now I think all she did was check the same online system on the public website to give me the 5 words I had come to dread…”your visa is being processed”. All further requests for more concrete information on whether it is likely to be processed in time (remember it is T-3 days) or whether I should initiate cancellation procedures fell on deaf ears. I even wrote to all the email addresses mentioned on the website which led to all of ZERO responses from anyone on the other end. To be fair to them, an auto reply did warn me not to expect a reply before 30 days!

Day 11 (T-1 !!) and still no sign of visa. I decided that since I had anyways waited this long to go the complete distance and only change travel plans the morning of the departure date. This decision turned out to be the life saver as that evening, I got a message saying that my visa has been processed and is available for collection the next day (5 hours before departure). Although my joy knew no bounds at having got the green light for the trip, I couldn’t help but wonder the possible reasons why the visa only arrived one day before the departure date (which was entered in atleast 3 diff places in the application along with a print of the tickets). A number of scenarios come to mind

1] The embassy processed it as per its normal procedures regardless of departure dates with no regards to whether the passenger gets the visa in time for it to be meaningful. This might be possible as its just another passenger amongst millions and the cancellation is actually extra revenue for their home country. And I got incredibly lucky to have gotten through the system barely in time

2] The embassy people (or whoever processes the applications) saw my application, didn’t like my face, but found no plausible reason to reject the application so they waited till the last possible second in the hopes that I would cancel. If that is indeed the case, may the person who did this wake up tomorrow morning with a dog’s tail sticking out of his @#$%

3] The embassy people were genuinely overflooded with applications and only managed to get to mine 2 days before the departure date and then worked wonders to get it cleared in time so that I could travel. If that is the case…may this person wake up tomorrow morning and find that the first thing he wishes for since waking up is fulfilled (of course he may waste it on ''I wish whoever is in the bathroom gets out immediately, I have an emergency'' leading to all kinds of unpleasant/pleasant scenarios depending on the state of the person already inside)

What did happen, I will never get to know. All I wish for is more useful information on the status in future and not mere redundant stuff. Then again..maybe it is not such a bad thing after all to have such an experience in your life and they should make it a habit to do this to more applications to add colour to people’s life!! Maybe they already do!!

An Honest...wait for it...Traffic Cop

No pun intended! No inherent contradictions here! I actually had a run-in with an honest traffic cop in Mumbai last week and i feel blessed! Here is how it all transpired

Driving through Amar Mahal junction near Ghatkopar, i was one of the tiny few who try to and succeed in getting through the junction before the blink and you miss it green signal turns red again. And in the rush (for absolutely no reason, i was just dropping a friend home) to get past it, i did not realize the light turn red again just as i crossed the line from safety into combat zone and was caught by the ever-present traffic cop standing there expecting exactly this waiting to wave me to the side of the road.

It was thus with trepidation that i stepped out of the car, bracing myself for a show of abject poverty to lower the bribe to manageable levels when the cop, expectedly asked me to hand over my licence.

I was expecting the usual charade of "ill have to impound your licence and charge you with a fine of a few million rupees (never heard this figure below 500) and you can collect it later after paying the fine" followed by my pleading that it was an honest mistake and let me go for a tenth of that sum going straight into your pocket.

The cop did exactly that except that instead of mentioning an absurd figure, he quoted the princely sum of Rs 100/- to be paid as fine and asked me to collect the licence in a couple of days from the nearest traffic outpost (on my route from home to work for that week). I was first shocked to hear the amount and my initial reaction was that he seems to be in a screwy mode where he will say Rs 100 but i will be asked to cough up a much bigger amount at the traffic chowk. So i offered to pay him the Rs 100/- and give me my licence back (i know i am also to blame....he wont take a bribe if you wont offer one...blah blah), which he refused and impounded my licence and gave me a receipt instead.

A couple of days later, i made my way to the outpost expecting to pay anywhere between Rs 100 and 500 and was again shocked when all i had to do was pay the Rs 100 to a bored looking person and get my licence back. The whole process took less than a minute!!

Once again, am pleasantly surprised with this encounter and also more knowledgeable in that no cop can now ask me for exorbitant fines for violating a signal. To all those who may read this and drive in Mumbai, if you are ever caught by a traffic cop for breaking a red light, offer him your licence and ask him where to collect it from after a few days. It is definitely the more convenient and morally satisfying option!

My Tryst with Classic Literature

“The first ray of light which illuminates the gloom, and converts into a dazzling brilliancy that obscurity in which the earlier history of the public career of the immortal Pickwick would appear to be involved, is derived from the perusal of the following entry in the Transactions of the Pickwick Club, which the editor of these papers feels the highest pleasure in laying before his readers, as a proof of the careful attention, indefatigable assiduity, and nice discrimination, with which his search among the multifarious documents confided to him has been conducted”

Thus starts ‘The Pickwick Papers’ by Charles Dickens. I have read that sentence (yes, it is only one sentence) at least ten times now and I am still not sure what Mr Dickens is trying to say here. Some parts of it are clear, but the parts somehow do not add up to a coherent message coming through. As far as I can guess (as that is the only option left), he is trying to commend himself on a job well done even though that would primarily fall under the job description of his readers. Blowing your own trumpet? By none other than Charles Dickens! Maybe it is not such a bad quality after all.

However, that is not the subject of this post. The subject is my constant struggle with classic literature, and why I continue to even keep trying. I am an avid reader of fiction, particularly the thriller genre. But ever-so-often, after a couple of totally predictable but nonetheless enjoyable Robert Ludlums or Steve Berrys, I feel guilty. Like I am doing a grave injustice to myself and the world of books by reading these seemingly inconsequential pieces of junk only for entertainment and not using books for the principle reasons that they are meant for – to gain knowledge and an appreciation of the written word. Which is why every time I go book shopping, I always end up with a few fiction books and at least one classic literature which suffer to same fate as the latest one by Mr Dickens (Of course, I stopped reading after the encounter with the first sentence).

And this is not new. I remember having spent a full two months getting through ‘The Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand. That effort was so monumental that it got a full post dedicated to it in this blog when it was finally completed. And another classic by the same celebrated author, namely, ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’ is now immortal in my memory as ‘the book’ to read when you want to fall asleep fast. Recommended to anyone with insomnia!

And lying unread in a shelf in my room are ‘Great Expectations’ by Dickens again and Homer’s ‘The Iliad’ for appreciation of the written word and ‘Vivekanand and his teachings on the spiritual unity of humankind’ for gaining knowledge. But before that I must complete ‘The Paris Option’ by Robert Ludlum, ‘Stone Cold’ by Steve Baldacci, ‘The Cobra’ by Frederick Forsyth and Sidney Sheldon’s ‘After The Darkness’. The race is on; albeit an unfair one, as the winner has been decided even before it can start. As for those books, they will find better use in my house as pieces of décor that people can see and appreciate and leave it at that. Reading and appreciating just does not seem to be my cup of tea!

It happens only in India – Part II

The second incident in the recent past that left me incredulous at the country that is India.

Scene: An altercation with an auto rickshaw and a traffic policeman on a Sunday afternoon at Priyadarshini signal in Mumbai

I will be the first to admit that my driving needs to mellow down a bit (you can argue on the extent of mellowing required, but at least it’s a start from my side. I am now past the denial stage). In one such incident of rash driving on the aforementioned Sunday afternoon, I was speeding across a flyover behind a garbage truck that smelled like…well, garbage!

In my bid to get past it with minimal exposure to the stench, I attempted a standard ‘switch lane and accelerate’ method of overtaking, only to find the garbage truck attempting the same maneuver at the absolute last second (maybe my policy of not honking incessantly to avoid noise pollution is to blame), forcing me to brake and swerve left and graze another auto rickshaw (filled with 2 adults and 3 children in a vehicle meant for only 3 people) that was on its own race to get to its destination before apocalypse struck.

My first reaction was to check the auto rickshaw to check its status and having satisfactorily established that the driver was skilful enough to maintain balance, allowed survival instinct to take over. Since there seemed to be no damage to the rickshaw or its occupants, I decided to make a run for it in the hope of outrunning the auto, but was thwarted after 200 meters at the aforementioned signal, which allowed the auto to catch up with me and left him with sufficient time to get out and reach my passenger door with the choicest of obscenities waiting to be let loose from his cannon of a mouth.

After an initial moment of panic, I decided my best chance lay in acknowledging my mistake, apologizing profusely and hoping for mercy (as opposed to trying to explain to him that the garbage truck was partially at fault or fighting it out with him while denying any fault whatsoever). And so apologize profusely I did, all the while asking him to keep his language civil (only to let you visualize the scene better, I would guess the occupants of the auto as relocated slum dwellers). His reaction was to threaten to uproot my car door if I did not park at the side from in between a red light surrounded by cars on all sides with no opportunity to turn while letting loose the obscenities which I had been trying to keep to a minimum. Thankfully, the auto driver had the good/bad/at least something sense to call the traffic policeman who promptly sat at my passenger side and heard my side of the story.

The conversation after parking went something like this:

Traffic Policeman (TP): License hai

Me: Haan, hai

TP: Usko mat dena license, aur gaadi se mat nikalna, warna who marega

Me: (do I look crazy, of course I am not getting out) Theek hai

TP (Leaning towards me): Aapne daaru pee hain?

Me: Kya? Nahin…mint kha raha hoon, saamne padi hai, aap bhi le sakte hain

After this, the auto driver and his occupant proceeded to explain the whole situation to the policeman where I was made to sound like a monster whom the auto escaped from only because of the Schumakeresque driving skills of the auto driver. (Visualize me still apologizing all this while wholeheartedly agreeing to whatever they said.)

TP: Aapka license dikhao

Me: (Reluctantly handing it to the TP) Yeh raha.

TP: Uska jo bhi nuksan hua hai bhar do, aur jao

Me: (Happy at my strategy working) Kitna damage hua hain?

Auto Driver (AD): Yeh dekho (pointing to a flap around the side that had come loose)

Me: Yeh to ek nail maarne se theek ho jaayega. Kitna lagega uska

AD: Paach Sau rupiye de do

Me (incredulous): Kya?? (Realizing thankfully I had only one Rs 100 note in my wallet and hence opening it to him) Yeh dekho wallet. Isme jo milta hain le lo

AD: Chodo jaanedo. Aage se dheere chalana

Me: Thank you

And that, I thought would be the end of that. And walked over happily to the TP asking him for my license back

TP: Aap pe charge lagake license jamaa karna padega. Rs 600 fine bharke le jaana

Me: (Oh god, he also needs to be dealt with, wallet strategy back on) Mere paas itne paise nahin. Aap hi dekh lijiye. Aur usne toh jaane diya. Phir kaunsa charge?

TP: Aisa nahin hota hain. Charge toh lagega. Aap kya karte hain?

Me: Asian Paints mein kaam karta hoon

TP: Kya kaam karte hain?

Me: (He will definitely not understand Marketing Support Manager, let me be simpler) Shop mein jaake paint bechta hoon.

TP: Aap mere liye kya kar sakte hain?

Me(That was pretty direct!): Wallet aap dekh chuke hain. Aap batao kya karoon?

TP: Paint mein kya kar sakte hain?

Me: (Incredulous once again, in fact never stopped being incredulous) Itni badi company hai. Main kuch nahi kar satka. Aapko shop bata sakta hoon jahan thoda sasta paint mil jaayega

TP: Kitna sasta?

Me: 160 ki jagah pe 150 mein dega woh aapko

TP (After doing a cost benefit analysis in his head and coming to a decision): Rakho (thrusting his book at me filled with currency notes)

Me: (giving my contribution to one of the most unique uses of a notebook ever) Thank you.

Once again, I am sure it happens only in India, or maybe only in Mumbai!

It happens only in India – Part I

Over the past month, I have been fortunate to observe a couple of incidents, which I truly believe can only happen in India. Let me elaborate

Scene: A road trip from Mumbai to Ahmednagar (100 kms ahead of Pune)

My first road trip ever to the interiors of Maharashtra. And an amazing trip it was! The first Ripley’s believe it or not moment was the realization that the entire route from Mumbai to Ahmednagar (about 250 kms) is a smooth highway with barely any potholes/craters/non road type things along the route. Of course, such a privilege is not without its costs. And so you have about 6 toll booths to cross along the route with tolls varying from Rs 15(to cross some village which boasts of a highway) to Rs 150 (to enter the Mumbai-Pune expressway), including one toll booth that charged a toll of Rs 37. I think that booth must be run by a mathematician with a fetish for prime numbers!

It is these toll booths that are the subject of my observations (I have a feeling this sentence is not grammatically correct, but am going to stick to it regardless). At every toll booth, there is one speed breaker at the entrance of the booth, one toll booth where you pay the toll in return for a piece of paper, one speed breaker at the exit of the booth and….wait for it…..ONE PERSON STANDING BESIDE THE EXIT SPEED BREAKER. For the first three booths, I wondered what the job description of that person could possibly be, only to be answered at the booth with the prime number toll. As it happened, it took me quite a while to rummage through the wallet and come with exact Rs 37 that the operator demanded as he had run out of change (how could he not!). While handing it over to him, a 2 rupee coin must have slipped out, unnoticed by both me and the operator, post which I proceeded to move out without waiting for the needless ceremony of receipt transfer. As I reached the exit bump, the operator realized that he had received only Rs 35 and gave out a solitary shout “Ruko”. On cue, the man beside the exit breaker, without a moment’s hesitation, JUMPED IN FRONT OF THE CAR, presumably to ascertain that I could not leave without having completed the transaction.

I could not help but wonder at what possible job description the toll company would be providing while hiring people for the post. A few possibilities that come to mind

1. Wanted – Car stoppers at toll exit. Must not be afraid to die or get injured during the course of work. No medal expectations for sacrifice

2. Have no life? Can’t see any future for yourself? We have a job for you. Be a toll booth exit supervisor

3. What do you think is the value of your life? If the answer is Rs 37 or less, contact us for the last job of your life

I definitely would like to meet the person who came up with this brilliant idea of utilizing the excess manpower in rural India. Truly a genius!!

The beginning

The start of anything new in life is one of the most cherished experiences of life. There is so much to look forward to, so much you want to do and all at once. It takes all your effort and determination just to ensure that the pace is not breathtakingly and unmaintainably fast, but a steady, long lasting one. You want to spend all your time engrossed only in that, and everything else seems like a waste of time. But alas, life does not work that way and maybe thankfully so. You drag yourself through the mundane tasks of the day just so you can get back to your newest addiction even though you were never really away from it. It was on your mind all the time. You can see traces of it in the errors that creep into your daily tasks, the visible slowdown in efficiency, the increase in tolerance levels for undesirable elements around you, as if nothing they do can possibly offset the positive feelings in your head. I could go on and on..but I am sure you get the drift. That’s the magical power of a beginning, the beginning of something beautiful, something exciting, possibly full of adventure and definitely an enriching part of your life that will stay with you forever, no matter the direction it takes post this phase.

The Dilemma

Its now almost a month since my new blog and its first entry. A month of thinking about topics to write about, thinking through the basic outline for each of those topics, and then ditching the thought of writing in favour of a game of Warcraft!! The topics that have floated in and out of my head include

1] an exploration of why average amount of clothes on a woman is significantly lesser than that on a man, especially on TV, inspired by the swimsuit round in the Miss Universe contest. Seriously, if there were a swimsuit round in a Mr World contest, I am sure its TRP would drop to zero. While people will say it’s a confirmation of male domination in todays society, I don’t understand why the women agree to it in the first place! However, I digress. This post is not on that. I hope I come back to it sometime later

2] the difference between a vacation and business travel, even if and actually especially, if the place happens to be an exotic location. This time I shall not digress, and in all probability, this post will never see the light of the day

This post is about a dilemma that occupies a lot of my time and it concerns an individuals privacy. Not his right to privacy, but about the appropriateness of revealing personal details, especially given the abundance of available media to indulge in such pursuits. Please note, this is not a rant on how good or bad it is to be doing that, but an exploration into why people might want to do such a thing, and more importantly, where do you draw the line.

For instance, and most of the examples in this post will be my life, as I think this post will eventually, if not already, meander into a public exploration of my feelings on the subject, which I think already concludes the debate before even beginning it, in a way. So once again, for instance, having written this blog entry, should I go ahead and announce to the world that I have put up a new entry on my blog, and then having done that, eagerly wait for people to read and comment on it, and feel happy or sad based on the number and tone of the comments? I know of a few million people who do that, which in itself gives the act a basic credibility in terms of mass support.

Or maybe, I could just quietly let the people I know and care about know that there is a new piece written by me which again, they should read and comment on and…..(the rest is same as in previous paragraph). That is exactly what I had done with the previous post, and I find myself feeling bad about using my relationship with people as a social obligation to read it just because they are related to me (I blame Sheldon Cooper of ‘Big Bang Theory’ for the tone of this statement)

Or I could just put it up and be happy that it is up. That, I think, kind of defeats the basic premise of a blog. If I wanted to do that, I could as well write something and keep it in a folder on my computer and the purpose would be served.

For some reason, I like the third option better. And that is exactly what I am going to do with this post. That way, I don’t expect people to read and comment on it, and everytime someone does, it feels good. But if no one does, it still does not feel bad.

However, inspite of all my efforts, I have still digressed, as this post was supposed to be about privacy in general and not just one example. So I shall stop here for now as this is too long already and continue with more examples in subsequent posts. Next up…Facebook!