Am listening to the song, and so the title - and somewhere it ties up with what the mind is going through. Somehow, it always happens with me - the most opportune song hits the ears irrespective of the state of mind.
Well, though its all coming back - but the start of this trip is more positive than the last one to UK in November. To start with, I experienced a new airline - and that too was not disappointing in the least. The in flight entertainment was the best I have seen till date. Then I got a window seat and that too in the first row - I never get lucky there. And to better it, the seat next to me was empty, so there was no need to watch myself while I slept. And now that I am here, have never seen UK so sunny and green - its one of the better times to be here - but my first.
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And did I make the most of the green and sunny UK? One can say so. I allowed the sense of adventure in travel to completely take over me this time. And I loved what I saw - be it the lakes in lake district, the mountains of snowdonia or just the vast green patches driving around the country side. Of course, another reason to remember this trip would be my first experience of driving outside India. As I forgot to take a picture for my own sake of memory, am just going to mention here that I drove a Volkswagen Golf. And it was fun. The last two weeks flew. But home is still two days away. Scotland, here I come.
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I absolutely loved Edinburgh. Paris was one of the prettiest cities I had seen till date, but with the greenery that Edinburgh had to offer, Paris has competition. In fact it was Paris within UK, if you know what I mean. To add to the fun, the first thing I tasted on arrival was the national drink of Scotland –a shot of single malt whisky. No it wasn’t being served as a welcome drink on the station, the Scottish whisky heritage experience was the first touristy thing I managed to do at the city. Now, I do have my priorities clear. And actually all I did other than that was walk up precisely four streets – Princes Street, Royal Mile, Waverly Bridge and St Andrews. Unfortunately, that’s all I had time to do. Sometimes, I tend to use the word ‘Unfortunately’ as a filler or a conjunction connecting two sentences – but if there is one occasion where I have used the word appropriately, it is this. It was truly unfortunate that I did not have more time to spend in the city. Well, if it’s in my fortune, I will come back.
I took a day trip next day to the famous Loch Ness and Inverness (Capital of the Highlands). I met Linda from Switzerland who was gracious enough to give me company and bid me farewell after the trip. Also met couples from Canada and Australia who helped me capture my most picturesque moments. Comparing this to the day trip I took in Netherlands, I think the people this time around were nicer, friendlier and more gracious (the driver cum tour guide did not ask for his tip as well). There were some Indians on the bus too. Now while I feel happy seeing Indians when I travel abroad because of the sense of homeliness they give me, I do feel anoid when an Indian manages to disturb the air in a completely fragrance free air conditioned bus, (with no possibility of opening any window) with the smell of oily French fries, and that too on a mountainous terrain.
Returning back to the comparison, there was not as much to see on this day trip like the one in Netherlands, but was more focused on enjoying the serenity the country side had to offer. Proof of the pudding – I have not felt this romantic in a while, and have also not enjoyed listening to John Denver like I did on this trip.
I also happened to pick up some Gaelic on this trip. Ben, along with being a popular American name also means ‘Mountain’ in Gaelic. The ‘Glen’ in the single malt range of whiskies actually comes from ‘Valley’ which is the literal translation of the word.
As I begin my return journey back to India, the other thing I want to mention and remember is the admiration I developed for elderly people within this country. Be it at the Irish Pub in Liverpool, where a man all by himself and his stick was enjoying a beer or the lady seated next to me in the plane – who needed wheelchair assistance to get off the plane, but did not put down her cross word book for more than half hour in the time that my eyes were open. If I were a bagpiper, I would have surely dedicated my next recital to their good health. Slainte!!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Reality Check
Amongst painting my nails red, exploring a new dining destination, watching a fantastic movie and pondering over my not so productive thoughts, I also happened to attend a congregation over the weekend. A congregation that made me realise that my life is not all that bad, as I make it out to be. We all feel that our own life is the worst. There have been times when I have found myself questioning "Why me", but this gathering was an eye opener to the suffering and pain that people go through in this world. For sure, life is not all haa haa hee hee, but peep outside, and you will be grateful for not being in 'THAT' person's shoes. I was also reminded of a song as I sat through the meeting:
There's a hero, if you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid of what you are
There's an answer, if you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know will melt away
It's a long road when you face the world alone
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold
You can find love if you search within yourself
And the emptiness you felt will disappear
Lord knows dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone tear them away
Hold on there will be tomorrow
In time you'll find the way
And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you
There's a hero, if you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid of what you are
There's an answer, if you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know will melt away
It's a long road when you face the world alone
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold
You can find love if you search within yourself
And the emptiness you felt will disappear
Lord knows dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone tear them away
Hold on there will be tomorrow
In time you'll find the way
And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The eligible-bachelor paradox
My phone hasn't rang all weekend, and have successfully focused my energies on rambling on. A single friend of mine forwarded this to me - Makes for some interesting reason(ing) I thought.
How economics and game theory explain the shortage of available, appealing men.
By Mark GimeinPosted Wednesday, April 9, 2008, at 4:23 PM ET
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the available, sociable, and genuinely attractive man is a character highly in demand in social settings. Dinner hosts are always looking for the man who fits all the criteria. When they don't find him (often), they throw up their hands and settle for the sociable but unattractive, the attractive but unsociable, and, as a last resort, for the merely available.
The shortage of appealing men is a century-plus-old commonplace of the society melodrama. The shortage—or—more exactly, the perception of a shortage—becomes evident as you hit your late 20s and more acute as you wander into the 30s. Some men explain their social fortune by believing they've become more attractive with age; many women prefer the far likelier explanation that male faults have become easier to overlook.
The problem of the eligible bachelor is one of the great riddles of social life. Shouldn't there be about as many highly eligible and appealing men as there are attractive, eligible women?
Actually, no—and here's why. Consider the classic version of the marriage proposal: A woman makes it known that she is open to a proposal, the man proposes, and the woman chooses to say yes or no. The structure of the proposal is not, "I choose you." It is, "Will you choose me?" A woman chooses to receive the question and chooses again once the question is asked.
The idea of the woman choosing expressed in the proposal is a resilient one. The woman picking among suitors is a rarely reversed archetype of romantic love that you'll find everywhere from Jane Austen to Desperate Housewives. Or take any comic wedding scene: Invariably, it'll have the man standing dazed at the altar, wondering just how it is he got there.
Obviously, this is simplified—in contemporary life, both sides get plenty of chances to be selective. But as a rough-and-ready model, it's not bad, and it contains a solution to the Eligible-Bachelor Paradox.
You can think of this traditional concept of the search for marriage partners as a kind of an auction. In this auction, some women will be more confident of their prospects, others less so. In game-theory terms, you would call the first group "strong bidders" and the second "weak bidders." Your first thought might be that the "strong bidders"—women who (whether because of looks, social ability, or any other reason) are conventionally deemed more of a catch—would consistently win this kind of auction.
But this is not true. In fact, game theory predicts, and empirical studies of auctions bear out, that auctions will often be won by "weak" bidders, who know that they can be outbid and so bid more aggressively, while the "strong" bidders will hold out for a really great deal. You can find a technical discussion of this here. (Be warned: "Bidding Behavior in Asymmetric Auctions" is not for everyone, and I certainly won't claim to have a handle on all the math.) But you can also see how this works intuitively if you just consider that with a lot at stake in getting it right in one shot, it's the women who are confident that they are holding a strong hand who are likely to hold out and wait for the perfect prospect.
This is how you come to the Eligible-Bachelor Paradox, which is no longer so paradoxical. The pool of appealing men shrinks as many are married off and taken out of the game, leaving a disproportionate number of men who are notably imperfect (perhaps they are short, socially awkward, underemployed). And at the same time, you get a pool of women weighted toward the attractive, desirable "strong bidders."
Where have all the most appealing men gone? Married young, most of them—and sometimes to women whose most salient characteristic was not their beauty, or passion, or intellect, but their decisiveness.
Evolutionary psychologists will remind us that there's a long line of writing about "female choosiness" going back to Darwin and the male peacocks competing to get noticed by "choosy" mates with their splendid plumage. But you don't have to buy that kind of reductive biological explanation (I don't) to see the force of the "women choose" model. You only have to accept that for whatever socially constructed reason, the choice of getting married is one in which the woman is usually the key player. It might be the man who's supposed to ask the official, down-on-the-knee question, but it usually comes after a woman has made the central decision. Of course, in this, as in all matters of love, your experience may vary.
There may be those who look at this and try to derive some sort of prescription, about when to "bid," when to hold out, and when (as this Atlantic story urges) to "settle." If you're inclined to do that, approach with care. Game theory deals with how best to win the prize, but it works only when you can decide what's worth winning.
How economics and game theory explain the shortage of available, appealing men.
By Mark GimeinPosted Wednesday, April 9, 2008, at 4:23 PM ET
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the available, sociable, and genuinely attractive man is a character highly in demand in social settings. Dinner hosts are always looking for the man who fits all the criteria. When they don't find him (often), they throw up their hands and settle for the sociable but unattractive, the attractive but unsociable, and, as a last resort, for the merely available.
The shortage of appealing men is a century-plus-old commonplace of the society melodrama. The shortage—or—more exactly, the perception of a shortage—becomes evident as you hit your late 20s and more acute as you wander into the 30s. Some men explain their social fortune by believing they've become more attractive with age; many women prefer the far likelier explanation that male faults have become easier to overlook.
The problem of the eligible bachelor is one of the great riddles of social life. Shouldn't there be about as many highly eligible and appealing men as there are attractive, eligible women?
Actually, no—and here's why. Consider the classic version of the marriage proposal: A woman makes it known that she is open to a proposal, the man proposes, and the woman chooses to say yes or no. The structure of the proposal is not, "I choose you." It is, "Will you choose me?" A woman chooses to receive the question and chooses again once the question is asked.
The idea of the woman choosing expressed in the proposal is a resilient one. The woman picking among suitors is a rarely reversed archetype of romantic love that you'll find everywhere from Jane Austen to Desperate Housewives. Or take any comic wedding scene: Invariably, it'll have the man standing dazed at the altar, wondering just how it is he got there.
Obviously, this is simplified—in contemporary life, both sides get plenty of chances to be selective. But as a rough-and-ready model, it's not bad, and it contains a solution to the Eligible-Bachelor Paradox.
You can think of this traditional concept of the search for marriage partners as a kind of an auction. In this auction, some women will be more confident of their prospects, others less so. In game-theory terms, you would call the first group "strong bidders" and the second "weak bidders." Your first thought might be that the "strong bidders"—women who (whether because of looks, social ability, or any other reason) are conventionally deemed more of a catch—would consistently win this kind of auction.
But this is not true. In fact, game theory predicts, and empirical studies of auctions bear out, that auctions will often be won by "weak" bidders, who know that they can be outbid and so bid more aggressively, while the "strong" bidders will hold out for a really great deal. You can find a technical discussion of this here. (Be warned: "Bidding Behavior in Asymmetric Auctions" is not for everyone, and I certainly won't claim to have a handle on all the math.) But you can also see how this works intuitively if you just consider that with a lot at stake in getting it right in one shot, it's the women who are confident that they are holding a strong hand who are likely to hold out and wait for the perfect prospect.
This is how you come to the Eligible-Bachelor Paradox, which is no longer so paradoxical. The pool of appealing men shrinks as many are married off and taken out of the game, leaving a disproportionate number of men who are notably imperfect (perhaps they are short, socially awkward, underemployed). And at the same time, you get a pool of women weighted toward the attractive, desirable "strong bidders."
Where have all the most appealing men gone? Married young, most of them—and sometimes to women whose most salient characteristic was not their beauty, or passion, or intellect, but their decisiveness.
Evolutionary psychologists will remind us that there's a long line of writing about "female choosiness" going back to Darwin and the male peacocks competing to get noticed by "choosy" mates with their splendid plumage. But you don't have to buy that kind of reductive biological explanation (I don't) to see the force of the "women choose" model. You only have to accept that for whatever socially constructed reason, the choice of getting married is one in which the woman is usually the key player. It might be the man who's supposed to ask the official, down-on-the-knee question, but it usually comes after a woman has made the central decision. Of course, in this, as in all matters of love, your experience may vary.
There may be those who look at this and try to derive some sort of prescription, about when to "bid," when to hold out, and when (as this Atlantic story urges) to "settle." If you're inclined to do that, approach with care. Game theory deals with how best to win the prize, but it works only when you can decide what's worth winning.
Delhi Devils
I don't mean to sound ungrateful towards the city I have called home for atleast 25 years of my existence, but I just went to the market wearing a pair of shorts, and it just reminded me about the things I hate about Delhi:
- The ability of the men in this city to ogle. They really know how to check out every inch, and that too with least amount of shame
- The culture to abuse. This, perhaps is not so much a Delhi devil, but a devil within every man - but the dilli men just know how to sound the worst
- The lack of safety. Now, it is debatable whether there is actually a lack - but there is a definitely a sense of lacking safety. Why else then would I feel absolutely paranoid coming back post midnight in my own car, while in Mumbai, I would not even think twice before sitting in a cab.
- The situation of public transport in the city. If you don't have a car, you are bound to feel helpless. Cabs are unreasonable, and not conveniently available. The auto rickshaws (if they agree to oblige taking you to your destination) will never charge the fare that should be. The buses - you'll barely see any parallel to the road, and if you do manage to get off one, it wont be without some groping.
- Buses right now arouse an additional cause pain these days. BRT (Buses increase Rage and Traffic). Its a terrible attempt at whatever the government is trying to do. Having bus stops in the middle of the road, stripping the passenger car space on the road by half and just doubling the time it used to take to get from point A to point B.
Balle Balle - My first destination wedding
In some ways, the Goa trip was a boon for my state of mind. I knew it would be the moment I piled onto mom and dad's invite for this destination wedding. Yes, I piled on - but paid for my own tickets..the thought of the beach, a 5 star accomodation, the much desired holiday and a first for a destination wedding were too much to resist. To top it, I even dragged daddy's namesake into it. Poor thing, kept his word and came inspite of a malfunctioning digestive system. Thanks for coming, A.. you are the hope for regaining my faith in committment :-).
So, while I was to catch my flight from Delhi, the food and beverage meeting kept me in Mumbai, and so I caught a direct flight from there. In a way that was good too - I fulfilled my wish of seeing a new place in the party destination (and did not land up going back to Polly's).
To start with, A and I had this huge caravan, and the event managers waiting for us at the airport. Actually. they were meant to wait for some more Baraati's too, but kudos to budget airlines running late, we got the vehicle to ourselves. And we drove into one of the nicer resort and spas in Goa...into the Mehndi ceremony. Or, even better the mehndi and tatoo ceremony. And who do I see indulging herself..my dear mommy!! She's a darling when it comes to getting excited about such things. And I must say she wasnt far behind in giving Saif competition for expressing her love..except that it wasn't daddy's 'name' but the 'sun' that she got done on her back.
So after the polite hello's and meeting all the aunty's who all knew me because of the wedding songs I sang back at the open house in Delhi, we proceeded to our room. (I must mention, that I have realised that I just enjoy singing at weddings. Pushy mom and I always used to exchange dirty looks when it came to singing at random weddings, but this time, she knew she should not mess with me and memories. She was surprised at the spark I got to that party!). So back in our room, we have this tray of goodies waiting for us with the usual pringles, diet cokes, cola cans,fox candies and the works). That was good impression #1. Then on the bed was this carry bag, bright green with sea creatures on it - with a matching toiletry bag, cap and a sarong inside it. That was good impression #2. Before we experienced anymore, A and I decided to digest only this much at the Arossim Beach. Who said, India did not have clean beaches?
The first evening was where the alcohol started pouring in. (Mom and Dad are rather concerned about me after the continuous intake of alcohol they wintnessed on this trip. Its funny). The usual family performances started. Must admit, haven't seen a more well rehearsed performance from the elderley ladies (as much as I expected the girls side to be baniya-ly conservative, the elder ladies were actually dancing to 'zara zara touch me touch me touch me'). But overall, a well done up event. However, it was the first time I witnessed a performer singing along the actual track in the background. Inspite of which, he managed to get all and sundry on the dance floor, tables and chairs. Anyhow, after wetting my appetite for music and dance A and I again headed to the beach. As much as I may sound old and boring, I actually missed the DJ party that was to follow for the beach that night.
A was a surprise. He is the first person I know who is quiet with a capital Q in a group, but talkative like hell when alone. That was some decent bonding we did that night - though the teetotaller had a tough time trying to get me to talk through the help of some wine. Maybe, I have learnt to 'handle' my drinks :-)
The next morning was the 'sainth' - after a long and luxurious rain shower in the hugest bathroom I have ever stayed at, all dressed in this pink and orange salwar kameez with pink heels go for the breakfast, assuming the function is to start soon after..and of course land up eating breakfast amongst aunties still in their night suits. The function took forever to start, so I decided to make my first public appearance in this halter dress- was I pleased with myself or what??!!?? A had been really nice to me, and I barely gave him the time to himself, much that he had been looking forward to during this trip. So, I decided to be nice in return and accompany him to this place called Martin's corner, which sells the best sea food in Goa apparently ( I wouldnt know considering my opinion on the cuisine). He seemed like he enjoyed the lobster, for me - it was enjoyable to see him enjoy it (and worth missing the illusionist's performance at the hotel) That afternoon nap was the best I had in while, and was all fresh to attend the wedding.
The wedding was different. The Ghadoli came from the Arabian sea, there was a horse at the resort, the baraat went from one lawn to the other with official alcohol on the golf cart, pheras by the sea side and the doli from one residential court to the other (I always wondered during the course of this hospitality project I am doing - the deal with resorts, and why are these golf carts essential for survival - now I know why!!). Honestly, I came back glad that I went to the wedding. Inspite of having not done too much, it was refreshing. And I am certain, am not the only one who feels this way...May the couple live happily ever after.
So, while I was to catch my flight from Delhi, the food and beverage meeting kept me in Mumbai, and so I caught a direct flight from there. In a way that was good too - I fulfilled my wish of seeing a new place in the party destination (and did not land up going back to Polly's).
To start with, A and I had this huge caravan, and the event managers waiting for us at the airport. Actually. they were meant to wait for some more Baraati's too, but kudos to budget airlines running late, we got the vehicle to ourselves. And we drove into one of the nicer resort and spas in Goa...into the Mehndi ceremony. Or, even better the mehndi and tatoo ceremony. And who do I see indulging herself..my dear mommy!! She's a darling when it comes to getting excited about such things. And I must say she wasnt far behind in giving Saif competition for expressing her love..except that it wasn't daddy's 'name' but the 'sun' that she got done on her back.
So after the polite hello's and meeting all the aunty's who all knew me because of the wedding songs I sang back at the open house in Delhi, we proceeded to our room. (I must mention, that I have realised that I just enjoy singing at weddings. Pushy mom and I always used to exchange dirty looks when it came to singing at random weddings, but this time, she knew she should not mess with me and memories. She was surprised at the spark I got to that party!). So back in our room, we have this tray of goodies waiting for us with the usual pringles, diet cokes, cola cans,fox candies and the works). That was good impression #1. Then on the bed was this carry bag, bright green with sea creatures on it - with a matching toiletry bag, cap and a sarong inside it. That was good impression #2. Before we experienced anymore, A and I decided to digest only this much at the Arossim Beach. Who said, India did not have clean beaches?
The first evening was where the alcohol started pouring in. (Mom and Dad are rather concerned about me after the continuous intake of alcohol they wintnessed on this trip. Its funny). The usual family performances started. Must admit, haven't seen a more well rehearsed performance from the elderley ladies (as much as I expected the girls side to be baniya-ly conservative, the elder ladies were actually dancing to 'zara zara touch me touch me touch me'). But overall, a well done up event. However, it was the first time I witnessed a performer singing along the actual track in the background. Inspite of which, he managed to get all and sundry on the dance floor, tables and chairs. Anyhow, after wetting my appetite for music and dance A and I again headed to the beach. As much as I may sound old and boring, I actually missed the DJ party that was to follow for the beach that night.
A was a surprise. He is the first person I know who is quiet with a capital Q in a group, but talkative like hell when alone. That was some decent bonding we did that night - though the teetotaller had a tough time trying to get me to talk through the help of some wine. Maybe, I have learnt to 'handle' my drinks :-)
The next morning was the 'sainth' - after a long and luxurious rain shower in the hugest bathroom I have ever stayed at, all dressed in this pink and orange salwar kameez with pink heels go for the breakfast, assuming the function is to start soon after..and of course land up eating breakfast amongst aunties still in their night suits. The function took forever to start, so I decided to make my first public appearance in this halter dress- was I pleased with myself or what??!!?? A had been really nice to me, and I barely gave him the time to himself, much that he had been looking forward to during this trip. So, I decided to be nice in return and accompany him to this place called Martin's corner, which sells the best sea food in Goa apparently ( I wouldnt know considering my opinion on the cuisine). He seemed like he enjoyed the lobster, for me - it was enjoyable to see him enjoy it (and worth missing the illusionist's performance at the hotel) That afternoon nap was the best I had in while, and was all fresh to attend the wedding.
The wedding was different. The Ghadoli came from the Arabian sea, there was a horse at the resort, the baraat went from one lawn to the other with official alcohol on the golf cart, pheras by the sea side and the doli from one residential court to the other (I always wondered during the course of this hospitality project I am doing - the deal with resorts, and why are these golf carts essential for survival - now I know why!!). Honestly, I came back glad that I went to the wedding. Inspite of having not done too much, it was refreshing. And I am certain, am not the only one who feels this way...May the couple live happily ever after.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Heartbroken's guide to feeling better
I just had to put these links up. They have potential for making so many people feel better. Kudos Idea Smith!!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Not so earnest, not so young
As much as I have been and still enjoy the work I do, am often compelled to take the role of a change agent at work for the following reasons:
- Being glared at for leaving the office at six, even though you may have started at 7 am
- Unless you work on saturdays and public holidays, you dont work hard enough or stretch
- The budget for a project is never aligned with the effort that goes in. There may be a few slow team members - but always??!! And all you are left with is explaining overruns.
- Being torn apart between two bosses, where both want you to prioritise their work while maintaining the highest standards of diplomacy
- Taking up so much of my time that even when you are pursuing relaxation, the to-do keeps building up
- Lack of ease in building a rapport with male colleagues unless you are the smoker break variety
- For not being able to take leave inspite of having a positive leave balance
- The monetary impact of political connections at work
Sometimes, I wish there was a permanent plan B. Then I think, its going to be no different. So I continue learning to deal with them.
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