Introducing Shorties 2013!

Hemingway's 6 word short story.

Time for a new project. I call it Shorties. And I need your help. You, the unknown 120 people who come to my blog everyday. You the 127 friends I have on Facebook. You, the 2000+ people (and bots) that follow me on twitter. You, the 5 people on the favorite's list of my iPhone. You, #sgMS, the reason or my existence and being. And finally, you, the curious onlooker reader. I need your help. All of your's.

What is the idea?
In one line, starting tomorrow (20th Sep) I would write and publish one short story (less than 5000 words) everyday, for next 100 days. For each story, I want you, all of you, to help me with ideas, plots etc.

How can you help?
Send me a story idea, a keyword, some characters, a plot, interesting links, oddities and anything else that can be converted into a short story. And I would write a story inspired by what you send in.

I'd select a story idea at 9 every morning and write a story by 8 the next day.

The first week, I'd do stories on plots that I have been wanting to write for some time. After that, I'd hopefully get you guys excited enough, to send in your ideas, plots etc.

The fine print. Why am I doing this? The future? Etc.
You may know that I am trying to write my first full length fiction (a book, about 80000 words). And the process of writing is making me aware of my shortcomings. As a writer. And as a human being.

To be able to write the book well, I need training and practice. Time and again, people have said that if you want to improve your writing, only thing you could do, is to write more. And hence the Shorties. Shorties would make me write fiction everyday and would hopefully make me a better writer. Good enough to be able to write something that publishers in India would want to publish.

That (getting better at writing) is one. The other bit is the dire need of discipline. I have realized that when I have someone to report into, I get my act together and work better. With Shorties, more than one boss, one man, I have you, all of you, to report into.

So these are the two reasons. I know that a lot of what I write, will be crap (for want of a better, milder word). But I would write something everyday. I would ship. And if I do it for next 100 days, at least one of the 100 stories would be good enough to get published in a magazine of repute or something. No? If not that, I am hoping that I'd see some tangible result in the way I write!

Thats it. Wait for tomorrow morning. For the first of 100 Shorties.

The Charging Cable Conundrum

If you read this blog regularly, you may know that I use an iPhone 5. In my opinion it is the best phone available in market. I know its debatable but we'd get into it later.

The thing with iPhone 5 is that it comes with a different charger, as compared to all other previous iPod and iPhone family devices. Apple calls it lightning charger. Its a great charger. Takes less space, charges fast and is as small as a charger can get without affecting functionality. But then since its so unique, its so hard to find. I mean most people I know has either an older iPhone or a phone that uses a miniUSB charging input. So if I am in a room, the probability is almost zero, of finding someone with a charging cable for my phone. Let me park this here for a bit.

Next up on the rant is legendary requirements of smart phones for constant charging. And when they are on 3G, this requirement goes up by tons. And something in me refuses to use the iPhone on EDGE or GPRS. I mean whats the use of a smart phone if you cant use the awesomeness that data connectivity allow you to indulge in. And an iPhone 5 is a sucker for battery juice. Really, literally and otherwise. The battery drains out in less than 4 hours for me. And all this when I use it moderately. Blame it on million applications that are running on my phone or constant use of twitter feed or whatever, the battery dies so soon that I am left wondering, if there was any battery at all in the first place. Ok, hyberbole but I'd park this as well.

Third thing is my legendary carelessness. Funny thing is that till three months back, I wasnt. Am I getting into the artist zone? I dont know. Its a post for another day. But now that you know that the charging cable for an iPhone 5 is so important, can you believe that I lost misplaced my cable? I have lost larger and more important things - my wallet, my driving license, my credit cards etc. But iPhone 5 cable! For God's sake I can not move around without a phone. People dont call me that often since that July evening but I still need a phone. I love the concept of being connected all the time. If for nothing else, but for Google Maps and Twitter (follow me on @altSG and @saurabh). And since I cant charge the phone without a cable that I lost, I am left in a conundrum. What conundrum? Hang on for a minute.

Fourth thing is legendary money making prowess of Apple. The charging unit is patented and that means that a company of repute will have to license the design from Apple to make their chargers. And that means that their accessories would be more expensive than Apple's. This to me was counter intuitive. I thought Apple made the most expensive accessories and here I am looking at units from Griffin, Capdase that are more expensive than Apple! There are a few fly by night operators as well, that sell these accessories for a fraction of money but then they are fly by night. What do you expect from them. Id come back to those guys.

So after these 4 back stories, after I lost my cable, the jobless me decided to save some money and buy a cable from those fly by night operators. The cable was priced at 499, compared to Apple's 1460 and Griffin's 1799. I saved about 1000 bucks at the drop of the hat. The cable worked well for a week and then it stopped working. I bought yet another cheap one for 179. It worked for exactly 5 days. Then I bought one for 250. It worked for a month. And then I bought one for 499 again. It worked for, a week. And then finally I was on the road whole of yesterday and I missed an amazing opportunity to meet colleagues and friends from my previous job, because my phone did not have battery and I did not have a cable. I decided its time to take matters in my hand. And that my dear friends is the conundrum I am talking about.

I could chose to buy the cheaper cable, at the rate of one every fortnight. Or I could buy the expensive one and be in peace for a year at least (apparently the official Apple cable comes with a one year replacement warranty). Of course this time,  I bought the official Apple cable for 1460.

And I am cringing since then for the insane amount of money that I have spent because of my carelessness. Damn me. Side note, you have to see the packaging of this official cable. Its so beautifully done that it almost bought tears to my eyes. Thing as insignificant as a charging cable has been packed with so much love and so much care that I dont really feel bad about paying them all this extra money. 

But you know unlike popular belief, iPhone 5 users are NOT rich. They could be jobless as well you know. I do love the iPhone 5 and I would recommend it any day to anyone. I love using it. I love owning it. I love everything about it. Just that, I wish the accessories were cheaper. Or may be I wish I could make some accessories and sell em to people at these inflated prices!

And for you, the reader, next time you want to buy me something, you know what to buy. No? #facepalm!

P.S.: If the title of this post sounds familiar, you, my friend, are addicted to Big Bang Theory. As Sheldon would have said, "O, I am amazed at how the great mind works, in its own subtle ways!"

Now hiring. A manager to manage me.

Hotlinked from here.

I havent written for well over a week now.

Not that I did not have things to write about. There are some 112 drafts on my blogger console. My evernote account is overflowing with blogpost ideas. There is the 7 things project. Of course there is Nidhi Kapoor. And there's no writer's block to stifle my creativity. I am just being lazy. I am procrastinating for no reason. Nothing else. I know that our time is limited and there is so much to do. And yet I am lazy. Like Neo says, "laziness pays now, hard work later", I am trapped in the lure of instant gratification.

Come to think of it, I left my job to write. And I havent wrote for half the days since I quit. I should be ashamed of myself. I am.

I think its only about discipline. I know I want to be the master of my time. I tried working in that direction. And I failed. But I did not know that it would be so tough to learn this art of mastering time. I just cant seem to prioritize my time. I still want to do everything and I want to do all those things now. And come to think of it, I am a grown man old man. And an old bipolar man suffering from ADHD.

Anyway, whats done is done. I will try and make writing my priority. If I have meetings lined up, I will wake up early. If I am travelling, I will make time to write. Even if I am not feeling like it, I will force myself to spurt out 2500 words a day. A steep target but I will try and get it. I need a visual dashboard to be able to measure my progress on. There has to be some app for it.

The app reminds me, I want to hire someone to manage me. Yes, someone who I can report into. I tried doing that last year but could not find someone stern enough to make me work. I want to try it again.

The idea of having a boss is that there is constant pressure and motivation from someone else. There is someone to keep a track of what I am doing and what I am not. Frees up time to get things done. And no, I am not talking randomly here. I have learnt that I work better when I have deadlines and bosses to report into. I work better when a stick is egging me all the time. Carrots dont work for me. Anyone wants to volunteer? I am serious about this. Can discuss terms et al in strict confidence.

Wipeout!

Wipeout. 

Thats the word that comes to my head, to explain the kind of day I've had today. Woke up at 8, ate, slept. Woke up again at 10, ate and slept again. Woke up at 6 and now I am writing this. I am clocking more sleep that ever these days. 15 hours on an average. 

Come to think of it, not just today but last few days, have been like this. 

Is it because I have just too much inaction in my life right now? Or something's wrong with weather? Any other plausible explanations? Why am I lethargic these days? What's wrong with me? Any medical professionals on my TL?

Balam Pichkari

It was that kind of the day. The day when you were unwell and you did not know what to do to cheer you up. The day when you've tried looking at pictures from good old times when you dint give a fuck to days like today. The day when talking to your special someone actually makes the day tougher than what it has been. 

And then somehow from somewhere you hear faint traces of a song playing. A song that you know you've heard somewhere. Was it at a Rahul Vaidya show at your last event? Or was it playing on FM? You know that song is the answer to every tough question that the day has asked you. What song was it? Oh yes, unbelievably, its Balam Pichkari!



Not kidding. Put on the headphones and hear it. And see all your sorrows just leave your skin. And see yourself dancing to it like no one's watching. And you dance like mad, so mad that even you yourself cant imagine yourself to have that kind of energy.

That!

Thank You Starbucks

Dear Starbucks India,

Thank you so much.

Why? There is a long backstory that you would have to know of, before I can come to the reasons for this longish letter.

The Backstory.
I am a struggling writer and I spend a lot of time working out of third places (you know, not office, not home). Third places are coffee shops, hotel lobbies, office receptions and other such open places. When I say I work out of third places, I mean I am on my laptop and I try and write. I try. And I write. What I write may or may not be good but I write.

All these third places offer me a few things that are essential for working out of those places. Enough space for me to sit comfortably, a power socket, a table, a chair and unlimited supply of water. I have given away a fortune to all these third places trying to find my comfort place. And despite all the attempts, I have never been able to find the right combination. Combination of space, seating, options to eat, hospitality and prices.
You know, I have been to almost all coffee retailing brands. From a Café Coffee Day to Barista to Gloria Jeans to Costa and all ten thousand other such businesses. Each of them is same, is about relationships, chilling out, friendship and all these “addy” things. Each of them is a brilliant business with proven business models but to me, they are in the business of retailing expensive food and beverages, under the garb of third places. Nothing wrong with it. Everyone is here to make money.

At each of these third places, everytime I have spent more than an hour, I have almost always got glances from the staff. If I don’t order enough to keep cash registers ringing, I have had staff coming to me and asking me for orders that I don’t want to make. You know, I am a cheapstake. But then like Pavlov’s dog I got trained to look for signs of displeasure of the staff at these places and make a move right before they would put me in an uncomfortable position. At times the move is good, I need a break after working for an hour. But most times these breaks, break the flow. Flow if you know, is hard to get.

Ok, enough of rant. I can go on about problems with coffee shops.

Starbucks at Arrival area, Mumbai Domestic Airport

Fast forward, Hello Starbucks! 
I studied business management and was taught of a lot of case studies on interesting businesses created by passionate entrepreneurs. I heard about Starbucks in a marketing class. And then I read Schulz’ book. And I have been a fan ever since. Since Starbucks was not in India those days, I could at best remain a fan on paper.

I remember the first time I went abroad in 2008 (or was it 2007?), I went to Paris. It was a memorable trip and I was excited about flying abroad for the first time. And I wanted to goto just three places in Paris. Not the Eiffel, not the Louvre, not the Moulin Rogue. But Ikea, Disneyland and, you guessed it, Starbucks.
And I did. This was a Starbucks in Louvre, if I am not wrong. Its been some time so details are little sketchy but I remember getting a picture clicked outside the Starbucks. The coffee was too expensive for me and I wasn’t paid any money to spend while I was there. So I did not buy anything from but like I said, I did get a picture.

And since then, everytime I have travelled abroad, I have tried to go see your stores. From small ones to big ones. And like any business that has operations on this scale,  I have encountered the good, the bad and the ugly.

And then one fine day we hear that Starbucks is coming to India.

And media latched it up like crazy for some reason. Did you put a lot of money in PR? You did not have to spend any money on marketing – people queued up outside your first store for hours to get in and buy a coffee. It’s a coffee afterall. Right? You can not make It that great that people queue up? But then people in Mumbai have always queued up for everything and I left it at that.

Till the time I hadn’t visited a store, I dismissed you guys as yet another American brand coming to India and selling their over expensive merchandise to us. I did not goto a Starbucks for quite some time. And then, on insistence of a friend, I went to Elphinestone store one late night after dinner. And I was surprised, no, I was shocked to see the store. It looked like the coffee shop that I have always dreamt of opening. It was a brilliant mix between Indian and American ethos. Loved every bit about it. There was a lot of detailing in that store. More detailing than a girl probably puts in her makeups for her wedding in India. In fact that store on list of one of the top ten places to visit in Mumbai. The other nine, let me write a post about that.

And since a visit to that store, I have been to a few stores in Mumbai and Delhi. And each of your café has a distinct personality and yet they are part of Starbucks, the business. You guys even made the colour Green cool for me.

By this time you must be wondering, why the letter! Let me come to it.

Why this letter?
So, after all the stories, here is the real reason for this letter.

You guys are the only establishment that made me feel invited, like we Indians welcome a guest at home. And not treat me like a customer at a shop.

When guests visit me at my home, I don’t call them customers, I don’t call them Sirs or Ma'ams. I call them by their first names. So do you. You are probably the only business (in hospitality industry and otherwise) that has addressed me by my first name.

When my guests come see me, I don’t ask them to leave if they have no more conversations left. You do not ask me to leave if I do not order a beverage or a snack.

I am accommodating for guests at home. So are you.

I am very friendly, to the extent of getting obnoxious. So are you.

And thus the letter.

Thank you for inviting me like a guest, treating me like a friend and taking care of me like your boyfriend (or girlfriend if you will). Thank you for not overtly selling coffee. Thank you for great work on the business. Thank you for giving me a lesson in brand and business management. Thank you for your patience. Thank you, most importantly, for the way you serve me water. In a glass, with a lid and a straw. Love sipping water like that. You made water sexy for me.

Thank you once again.

As you expand to more locations in India, hope you can continue the great work. I cannot really afford a lot of your beverages all the time but I can definitely make my gratitude more evident. This letter, is one such way to show my gratitude. Hope I can think of more. Till then, thanks a ton!

Sincerely,
A fan

And a disclaimer
And for anyone else that may be reading this, I am NOT a coffee fan. I do not even drink coffee. Coffee constipates my system. I order iced teas when I am at coffee shops.

And Starbucks is NOT paying me to write this, neither do I expect something from them. They are merely giving me a place where I can sit and work. I did order a Black Tea Ice Tea but I paid for it myself.

And Starbucks, thank you guys, yet another time.

The weekend trip to Goa

Panaroma - en route to Mumbai 

I think my first trip ever to Goa was in 2007 when I passed out from college. Those days, after you finished your college, it was in vogue to gather the whole jingbang, go to an exotic destination for few days and hopefully create memories that would last you a lifetime. But for me, there is nothing home to write about it except the painfully long train journey and scorching heat that made us all fight for every single breath.

So since then I have been to Goa like a million times with friends and for work. And each time I went with friends, I either ate and slept or spent time in a casino playing poker. For the records, I am a teetotaler and I dont eat sea food. When I went for work, I was largely confined to the hotel I was organizing the event at. Over time Goa became a place that to me meant two things and two things only. Work. Or poker.

Now that I am out of work, the travel-to-Goa-for-work-bit is ruled out. And for poker, since I have realized in the last few days weeks that I am not really as great as I thought I was, I have stopped looking forward to Goa for poker. Of course I havent given it up as yet. I will play smaller games (micro stakes) and then see how things go. I can afford to lose some money I think.

So Goa, has become a place where I dont really know what to do (its sad when you order vegetarian french fries on a beach - even the waiters smirk at you). I am anyway not a huge fan of how native Goans treat people like me (more on this sometime later). So most trips to Goa are now instigated by friends. And I go there for the sake of merely going there, spending three days away from email and computers and coming back. No real pleasure to be honest. I could do as well by merely not stepping out of my place.

But then this weekend a few weekends back, I went to Goa and the trip was way different from other trips.

This time I was in Goa for less than 24 hours. Like all my previous trips, I did not do my regular jig of dinner at the beach, binge at the casino, long car rides at night etc. But, spent one whole evening on a beach and talked with my friends about an idea that we are working on.

The noteworthy thing is not the conversation or the dinner; but something that happened on the beach.

Picture this. You are on the beach at night getting drunk on Breezers and Red Bulls and then out of nowhere, it starts raining. And raining hard. Cats and dogs. The kinds that you are helpless against. You cant run, running would be futile, by the time you move even an inch you would be drenched. You cant stand, its raining so hard that it hurts. And there is no protection. Its you and water. Hard, thick drops of water. Falling with enough force to go deep in your skin. Tear your skin. And you touch your heart and soul. And open you. Open you for contemplation, for thinking and for lot of other such things that I dont really have words for.

I dont know why but I headed to water. I dont know how to swim. And I was not drunk. And I play it very safe. And thus I stood right at the point where the ocean and the earth battle it out to claim turf. There was water pelting on me from up above, trying to hammer me into earth. There was water splashing at my feet, sometimes reaching upto my knees, trying to drag me into the sea. And there was winds, fast enough to sweep you off your feet, trying to take me away from earth and the sea.

Three forces of nature, furious forces, all trying to dislodge from where you are. All three forces trying to tell you to go find a shelter. All three forces getting fiercer by the minute. It got really scary after some time. But I stood there. I help my ground.

And then suddenly most amazing thing happened to me. I dont know why but I let myself go. I loosened up my body. I submitted to Mother Nature. I just wanted to be one with her. I left myself to her discretion. I spread my arms and I looked up. I could not really see any child Gods at play but I could see some stars, playing hide and seek with clouds. I couldn't see the moon but the clouds had some kind of faint glow on em, as if someone is smirking at me for being ignorant. Or as if someone was dismissing me with an all-knowing smile.

Meanwhile rains, water from the sea, winds, everything was still playing but they were not strong anymore. They were gentle. Like they want to give you a massage. And cradle you like a baby. Like you were their baby. I suddenly somehow knew that I wasn't going to get harmed or get hurt. I knew there was someone looking out for me. I knew I was not alone. Like a friend says, God was with me.

Except that I dont really believe in the concept of God. Whatever it was, it definitely was not a divine intervention or something. It wasn't any hand from any God. It wasnt the light that is supposed to show me the way. Its just a stupid coincidence really. Nothing. And yet I want to read a lot into it. I want it to be some kind of a sign - like I want to hang onto anything that I can lay my hands on, when I am out of breath in the swimming pool where I spend a lot of my mornings.

So, let me park this bit here.

The second thing to have happened was that I chose to drive back to Mumbai, rather than taking the flight. We took a combination of some state highway and a national highway and the outcome was a drive that lasted more than 12 hours through roads that were as flat as steel plates, as bumpy as battlefields, as curvy as a Jalebi (there was this particular bend that looked like an angular Z), as straight as a ruler that we used in school. And then there were numerous places along the way that were so scenic that a good photographer could actually click postcards out of those places.

We passed trees, green stretches of land, forests, waterfalls and other such places that we hardly get to see at our concrete jungles. Since this was for the first time that my mind was unoccupied by random thoughts about work and life, I could enjoy these things.

We stopped at numerous such places and spend time soaking in the energy from nature at work.

There were pure shade of greens that made you feel great about just being alive. At those places, you forgot everything that is cluttering your head. You became thoughtless. They were so soothing that you felt as if you are starting your life all over again with no baggage.

There were amazing waterfalls and the water was so fresh, so clean that it could remove all the dirt from even your soul. Like that dip in the Ganges. Just that this time we were on top of some mountains in the Western Ghats. I had never expected water to be this cold. This penetrating. This sharp. This heavy. I did not have the guts to actually take a shower. A friend did.

And finally, there were clouds. Passing right through us. Its a wonderful feeling to have a blob of cold dense air pass through you. You know you can hold them if you stretch your hand and yet they remain elusive.

So the rain on the beach and the drive through the most breathtaking scenery I have seen in some time, was something that I hadnt anticipated at all. More than anything, it was the first time when I felt Mother Nature's awesomeness. I mean I have been to mountains and other such places but I have never felt this touched. And I realized that I havent been kinds to think a lot about nature. In fact, on the contrary, I am an energy and convenience hog.

But after this trip to Goa, something has begun to change. I have become lot more conscious. I mean I dont think I can survive without AC but I will start to being that shift in my thinking. It wouldnt happen overnight. It may or may not even happen. But I will make an attempt.

I am glad that I went and great that I could see the immense power of Mother Nature. Lets see if this sticks with me.

Oh, and the biggest lesson? That I am we are insignificant. All the stupid things that we attach to ourselves, ego, emotions, all of it is frivolous. Over rated. And hyped. Need to start living in harmony with nature.

Month 1, (of the Four months of frugal life)

Remember this post?

Of course I do. So I said I would reduce my spends and do so without compromising on my lifestyle / travel / hobbies. Its been a month now since I started thinking in terms of frugal lifestyle. And here is an update.


What has changed 

1. The credit card bill reduced by 50%. May be because I had lost my card and I was forced to use cash. But it has come down and I am happy about it.
2. I did not buy any new garments. I have been guilty of buying truck loads of clothes that I would never wear. And especially when they are on sale, I indiscriminately buy clothes. I stopped that. Despite all the offers and everything, I did not buy anything. I used this cheat sheet by Vishal, before every purchase and it has helped me immensely. Thanks Vishal.
3. All the long phone conversations have died. Primarily because I dont have anyone left to talk to. Neo is in Mumbai and I meet him face to face. sgMS is now too busy to talk. 

What did not change

1. I am still travelling like mad. As I write this, I have a trip planned to Goa and SFO. In the month of September. And I bought tickets for Diwali in advance. Apart from SFO trip, I can remove it as one time expense, I am not cutting down on my travel. And I am still using planes, rather than trains or some other mode of transportation to save on money. Like I said, I would save time, not money. 
2. I am still well fed and do things at my whims. This includes travel, meeting people, buying gifts (more on this later), working out of coffee shops and all such things. I want to believe that my productivity has increased as well. I can now write for at least one hour on the stretch. And when I write, I no longer shuffle between multiple pieces. I dont know if being frugal and becoming a better writer is connected but I spend lot more time in the zone. 
3. On coffee shops, I said I would work lot more at home. But I havent been able to do this. I still spend a lot of time at Starbucks and pay for overpriced coffee but I have realized that I work better when I am at a coffee shop. In fact two of my favorite writing spots are Starbucks in R City Mall and Starbucks at the Airport. In fact I am writing a letter to Starbucks. It should be on this blog soon. 
4. August marks birthdays of a couple of good friends. Early September is birthday of one of the most important people in my life. Normally I would have bought something expensive that would be of no use to anyone and it would have made me happy. But this time, I am not. A plain old phone call shall do. I know these guys understand. They know that I am jobless and trying to manage money better. 

What did I do different in last one month?

• Rather than spending by cards, I used cash. Thing with cash is, you can see it depleting and you know how much is left. So when you are nearing the end, you can take corrective measures and reduce your spends. I like this bit. So as a matter of practice, I would start carrying more cash. I dont really like a heavy wallet but I will compromise on it.
• Reduce the amount of times I eat out. Before this, I have been eating out a lot. A lot as in all three meals out. And its expensive to eat out in Mumbai. I have consciously reduced eating out. Now I try and scalp meals off friends. Dont have a lot but enough to keep me well fed. Especially, Neo, AS, NL. Thank you guys. 
• Thanks to this thought about gaming Mumbai, I have reduced my travel bill substantially. I am still paying a fortune to travel but its has come down. I now club my meetings so that I dont waste time or money in travel. I now travel at non-rush hours and that translates into less time (and thus less money) on the road. I have started to fuel the borrowed car with CNG. Like the Pune trip a couple of days back turned out dirt cheap, for I used CNG and ate at non-fancy restaurants. I still havent gotten around to using public transport and I dont think I would ever use it. 

That's it. In tangible terms, my cost of living has come down by 30%. I wish I could make charts and post them here but I dont think they are required. This post is primarily for my consumption. Next target is, reducing 30% from where I am. 

The next month's report would be interesting because I would have spent a large part of my time out of home and expenses would rise like crazy. Id mark the US expenses as an anomaly and extrapolate expenses of time spent in India to over a month. Lets see how it turns out. 

So far, I am loving this idea of a frugal life. I know I love spending money and despite that, I love this new found power that I have over controlling my spends.

The Bus Stop

It was 9 AM when I first noticed her. Though I hadn't noticed her earlier but I am sure she's been on the bus stop for more than an hour at least. She couldn't have been more than 15 or 16. And she was dressed better than most girls that took their buses from this bus stop. She had a small and yet eye catching yellow backpack clasped in her arms. She held it tightly against her chest as if her dear life was caged in it. She was staring intently at something on the other side of the road and was otherwise motionless. If she wasn't waving her hands to ward off the flies, I would have passed her off as a mannequin that some cloth merchant had left behind.

Surprising bit was that that while she was on the bus stop, some 30 buses would have passed by and she did not take any of those. In fact I realized that she wasn't even looking at the bus numbers or making any effort to ask the conductor about whatever destination those buses went to.

She definitely did not belong to the scenery. I have been running the tea shop by this bus stop for almost five years now and I know a local when I see them. I thought that she’s from a well to do family and maybe she has had an argument with her parents and is hiding from them or something. The newspaper was full of reports like that. May be her family has put a large award for information on her whereabouts. This is the kind of luck that I desperately need. I have to pay that damn loan back that I took to start this tea shop. A large chunk of that loan was spent on bribing Pandey, the local constable and his bosses.

Just when I was going to speak to her, I was interrupted by Pandey. He never pays for his tea and I don't like him a bit.

I generally setup my shop by the bus stop by 630 AM. Today was no different. In fact, today I found Shukla Ji waiting for me. He runs the chemist shop in one of the by-lanes and he has been a customer since the first day of my shop. And since then, he has always been my first customer of the day. He says that my tea is like amrrut - the magic potion. He says my tea can infuse life into even a dead man. I think he merely exaggerates. He is a good guy and he keeps recommending me to all his customers and friends. Everything is good about him except his useless conversations. He apparently knows about everything the world has to offer and every day, he chooses a new thing to talk about. Today morning, while he kept me busy with his inane talks about women, their ailments, their whims, I took my time to clean up the place, boil water, brew the tea leaves, pound ginger, cardamom and lemon into a paste and make the first cup. Shukla Ji sipped onto the clay pot with great satisfaction and continued his monologue about women and their shopping habits. At times I have this dying urge of poisoning the tea with a rat-kill and put an end to Shukla Ji's stupid monologues but I refrain myself because I had to run the tea shop and ShuklaJi meant 7 to 8 cups a day and numerous referrals.

Just like that it was 9, ShuklaJi was long gone and it was time for Mrs. Verma to make her appearance. She is the principal of the government school for girls. Though she lives at a walking distance from the school and my teashop, and she can have her tea at home, she still likes to come over, sit here and indulge in gossip about other regulars. I don't mind. 3 cups a day. Mrs. Verma was about 45, looked 40 and considered herself 35. And like all women her age, she was particular and liked doing things her way. Like, she carried her tea cup with her every time she came to my shop. It said "World's Greatest Friend". The cup was too big to serve tea in and I suspect its was a gift from someone. But I am not sure of the greatest friend bit.

I have told her on numerous occasions earlier that since I sit on a bus stop, a cleaner mug makes no difference to hygiene and danger of diarrhea. Anyways I saw her coming and as she was approaching, my gaze automatically went towards her usual place on the bus stop. And I saw the girl with the yellow backpack again. I had almost forgotten about her. She was sitting on Mrs. Verma's place. Of course the bus stop is a public installation and no one can claim any personal rights to a specific bench. But once get used to things, we start getting personal with those things. Now look at me for example. Anyone can setup a tea or a cigarette shop here and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I could theoretically talk to Constable Pandey but I know him. He will take sides with anyone who greases his palms.

Before I could think of a list of deadly misfortunes that may befall Pandey for not helping me, Mrs. Verma reached the bus stop with her large bag and her coffee mug and she headed towards her regular seat. Knowing Mrs. Verma, I was expecting fireworks. I had mentally taken a note to help the girl if Mrs. Verma got nasty. It’s a free country after all and anyone can sit anywhere they want to, as long as they are not doing anything illegal. Mrs. Verma can anyway be unnecessarily harsh. And the lonely girl needs a guardian angel before I can inform her parents and claim my reward.

Mrs. Verma stopped right in front of the girl and stared down hard at her. Mrs. Verma has a huge imposing personality. A little on the heavy side, she always wears faded pastel sarees that are ironed, creased and starched as sharp as knives. To add to the dramatic appearance, she has this huge pair of reading glasses that keeps dangling from her neck. I have never seen her using them. I think they are useless and they are merely in place to add to her strict image. She says that little harshness goes a long way towards fixing attitudes. She always asserts her opinions on things that she has no clue about. I mean who dares calls my cups dirty? The entire world drinks from them and so far nothing has happened to no one.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Verma was still staring down at the girl and she kept the stern gaze for what seemed like the longest minute ever. Anyone else would have seen the signs and would have fled. But not this little one. She kept on staring past Mrs. Verma. I think this was the first time when someone had refused to acknowledge Mrs. Verma's presence and authority. Mrs. Verma stood there with puzzled expression. She didn't know how to react. She shuffled on her feet for a few seconds and with uncertain moves and disorderly steps walked towards me. She averted my gaze and she feigned a search for something in her bag. Talking to no one in particular, she said "look at kids these days. They don't respect their elders at all. Look at the pride on her face. I wonder which school she goes to." When she looked up after the rant, she caught ShuklaJi staring at her. He had come just a couple of minutes back and hearing the rant, his face developed an expression of a man possessed. ShuklaJi ensures that he is here at 9 everyday without fail. I suspect that ShuklaJi has a soft corner for Mrs. Verma. Rather than talking to Mrs. Verma, I have often found him talking to her bosom, her bag, her saree and even her mug. And I reckon even Mrs. Verma likes the attention. May be this is why despite all the trouble and my dirty mugs, she comes over to my shop for the tea.

"Madam, who said what to you? Just tell me and I shall take care of the bastard", Pandey spoke as he walked towards the shop. He had apparently heard Mrs. Verma’s anguish and unlike us, could infer what she was saying.

"Nothing Pandey Ji. Just some kid who needs to be disciplined", replied Mrs. Verma, eying the girl.

Shukla Ji was feeling left out. He looked at me briefly and loped a question in the air. "Arey, wasn't this girl sitting on the bench when I left after my morning walk?"

I replied, "I think she was but I am not sure. But she has been here for more than an hour for sure and she hasn't made any effort to stop any bus. I wonder what’s wrong with her.” Though I stated mere facts, I was hoping to add some fuel to fire and get people talking. My experience has taught me more people indulge into conversations, more time they spend at the tea stop and more tea they consume. And nothing like a mystery or a controversy to get their opinions and hunger for tea flowing.

At this, Mrs. Verma who considers herself an authority on young women added "What are you saying? I am sure the girl is a chain snatcher and is waiting for the right target to come along. I know such girls. Like Hawks, they can sit for hours and wait for their prey and when they spot someone, they are as quick as lightening and before you realize they are gone. Look at her long legs. She must be a good runner. And since she is thin, she must be really hard to catch hold of. Pandey Ji, I think you should round her for interrogation. In fact do you remember when I had to call for you when one of my teachers lost her purse in the school? Dint we find it in a girl's school bag? Didn't that girl confess about her crime and how she wanted money to buy expensive clothes so that she may please her boyfriend? Boyfriend at the age of 15. When I was growing up, girls were married for two years by the time they were 15. Girls back then were so obedient and they respected their parents and in-laws. Now, we have a totally different generation. Talk harshly to a girl and she would have a meter long tear running down her cheek. I am telling you, we are giving so much freedom to these girls. It will not help our society. Our culture is getting lost. I mean look at me. Despite the fact that I am a teacher and I need to keep my mind open, I still adhere to things that my parents taught me. And those values that I learnt back then are still helping me instill discipline in my students. PandeyJi, you at once should go and check with that girl and search her yellow bag. How dare a criminal like that is roaming free on our streets?"

Mrs. Verma was breathless by this time and had to actually sit down and fan her face with the edge of her saree. Before Pandey made his unlikely move, I had to do something about the situation. Mrs. Verma was just being vicious and I had anyways told myself that I would help the girl. I was beginning to like the girl. And if Pandey identified the missing girl, I would lose the opportunity to claim the missing person’s award. I retorted, "Verma Madam, how can you say something like that? Look at the poor girl. She seems to be from a good family. I think she needs help. Does she look like a chain snatcher to you? Look at her clothes? She is dressed better than most of your girls. She is wearing such nice blue shoes. Look at the watch on her wrist. She can’t possibly be a chain snatcher. The bag would not have anything but her books.” I eyed towards Pandey for support. I knew that he is the laziest policeman ever and even if the girl had crook stamped across her face, Pandey would not bother moving his butt.

Constable Pandey wanted to speak up and before he could do so, ShuklaJi jumped in. "How can you talk like that to Mrs. Verma? She is the most educated person amongst us." Shukhlaji paused for a second, looked into the eyes of Mrs. Verma and continued talking. "She has a point. If she wasn't a chain snatcher, why would she be sitting here? If she is lost, can’t she ask people for help? If she was from a respectable family, she would never run away from home and bring disgrace to her family. But what would you know? Only Mrs. Verma can appreciate these things. We should listen to Mrs. Verma. We should check with the girl. If PandeyJi is reluctant to go, I volunteer to go and speak to her." Dropping his tone a bit, addressing Mrs. Verma's dangling reading glasses, he said. "I have even heard that there are girls her age into flesh trade. They look for gullible and unsuspecting people and trap them. These girls would come to you, cook a story and tell you that they've lost their way and they need help. What can an honest and kind man do in such a situation? And moment you offer help, they cling onto you and dont let go. I have a friend who got trapped like that. I am ..."

Pandey cut ShuklaJi short and said, "Your friend? If my memory serves me right, dint you yourself come to the police station a few weeks back and filed a report against a girl who had stolen some money from your shop? And you dint have any witness to support your claim?"

"Uh  ... yes yes it was me but how are these things related? It was a case of shoplifting and this is a prostitute we are talking about here". ShuklaJi tried to dodge the volley.

"Prostitute?” I asked with disbelief. "ShuklaJi! Sir, if we can’t help the poor girl, let’s not throw baseless allegations at her.", I said.

"I think in your report you said that this girl asked you for help and you gave her some money and when you refused to give her more, she snatched money from you and ran away", continued Pandey.

"Arey nahi nahi sir. That was something else. Anyways I took my report back after I spoke to the Station In-charge. Didn't I? And we have a bigger trouble here. We need to know who is this girl and where is she from. We need to know if she can cause any harm to Mrs. Verma and her girls.” ShuklaJi tried making peace with Pandey.

It was now Constable Pandey's turn to put forth his opinion. He said, "We are just making a mole of a mountain. I am saying its nothing. This is just a case of the girl bunking her college. She does not where to go and hence she is just whiling away time at the bus stop. It’s so cold outside. Who would not like to soak up some sun? I think we should leave her alone. Why waste our time and effort on talking to these girls? Anyways once they are old enough to get married, they would be sent to their in-laws house and all they would do the entire day is cook and clean."

I was aghast. I was amidst a bunch of people who were supposedly educated and yet they spoke of women as if they were mere objects. Especially in the age when women were launching rockets in space and running big businesses. I did not know how to react to these comments by Pandey, Shukla and Madam. I sincerely wish I could do something for the little girl and help her. I could think of only one way. I handed a cup of tea to Pandey and told him, "PandeyJi, I know it’s inconvenient to you but could you please check with her? This is the least we can do for her and if she is lost, we can help her find her way to home".

Pandey looked at me with irritation and said, "Ok ok, I will do it."

And moment he turned towards the girl, he stopped in his tracks. So did we.

There was no one on the bus stop. Not even her yellow backpack.

Things to do after an event

Backstage, at an event in Amsterdam, Netherlands

After an event is over, irrespective of how it goes, almost all event managers end up depressed after all the adrenaline that an event pumps into their system. I wrote about this last week. Here read it. Quite a few friends from the industry read it. And a handful of those who read it in entirety (it was a long piece at some 2000 words) called to say that they could relate to it, word by word. Of course everyone had a different perspective. This is what makes life awesome - multiple perspectives, multiple personalities, each as different as chalk and cheese.

But then, everyone who called, invariably agreed on one thing. The thing about post-event depression.

And then I thought may be it would be a good idea to explore this depression in little more detail. Actually not depression but things that people do, after an event, to get over their depression. I mean I reckon that most men in jobs that need them to be on their toes all the time (air traffic controllers, stock brokers, doctors in emergency room, event managers et al) must have their respective (may I say quirky?) ways of beating the blues. And since I have an insider's perspective on events, I can bring to surface things that us event managers do to get back to our feet after a hard hitting blow.

Like the last post, I would stick to just 7 things that event managers do, after a hard and a long day at work comes to an end.

1. Get drunk. Simple. Really. Nothing is as potent as alcohol to loosen you up. I think those taking acting classes must get drunk before they face the camera. Whoever said that alcohol helps lose inhibitions was spot on. Spotter on than the dart hitting the bull's eye.

So we get drunk after an event. And no sir, since we are the flag bearers of style AND adrenaline, we do not do it at some shady bar. We end up at either the most happening club that that city has to offer, most of the time teeming with teens and other older people who believe that they are still in their teens.

Or we shut ourselves in the confined misery of the expensive hotel room that is not accessible to anyone but the closely knit event team. After all, nothing breeds camaraderie and brotherhood better than a calamity. The decision between that exclusive club or the hotel room is pretty simple. Actually the decision happens by itself, depending on how the event went. No points for guessing where do you go when.

If you go to a club, you will always grind the section that plays electronic music, for you are an event manager and you ought to like EDM. Everything else is either too boring or too slow for someone who needs a regular dose of excitement. If you voice your dislike for EDM you may be thrown out of the company. You dare not.

Oh, you "check-in" on Facebook places AND on Foursquare. And tag everyone else present at the club with you. More importantly, Like and Comment on the check-ins of your colleague who borrowed your phone a while back, to register his check-in at the location. You see, we love spreading love. And this love-spreading is like a ritual that we hate to break. An event company without rituals is like a human without a soul. Yes sir. There. I said it.

And coincidence, love also brings me to the next thing that event managers do after an event. When I say next, these things are NOT in any order fyi.

2. Try and find love. Like drinking, we have two distinct places where we hunt for love. Either we KNOW, for sure, that that performer (read dancer, manager of a celebrity that we hired, singer, crew member, DJ's friend etc) is the end of our long and torturous search for true and eternal love. If not that (all such potential targets loves are "taken" by your seniors or they are too cute for you to have any chance with them), you simply scourge the red light districts. Especially if you are from India.

You see, despite coming from the holy land of KamaSutra, true unconditional love (read sex) is something of a taboo in India. Yes, even if you are married or going steady or into a secret live in relationship.

So, if you are from India and you are managing an event at the likes of Thailand, Russia, Netherlands and other such liberal countries, you do not miss any opportunity to scoot to a "legal" club. I am using the word club for the lack of a better word. Is there one? I can call my mom and tell her that I am at a club and she would be as care free as if I am at a temple. Its a temple after all. Temple of love.

Love, you thought was that item dancer that you accosted for three days, that you got coffee for (from local Starbucks), that you took for long walks along the beach and that you paid for a meal consisting largely of raw fish eaten with thin sticks, at the most expensive Japanese restaurant in the town (and you are a vegetarian come to think of it). And you knew you loved her, till you see her cooing blissfully with your boss.

And then what do you do to get over the depression (of the event and the love betrayed by the dancer)? You goto the temple of love. To find your true love, that can not last longer than two hours, because you would be tired of all the action. And what do you do when you are tired? Sleep!

Sleep in next in my list, list of things that we do after an event.

3. Sleep. Yep. We are boring people. Really we are. And since our job requires us to be on our toes all the time, we hardly manage any sleeping running up to the event. So when you get over the event, get into you room, to take a shower before you head out, do NOT look at the bed. The thing with these beds at expensive hotels is that, more often than not, they have these white sheets that are as inviting as true unconditional love is.

You know that if you get between those sheets, you could disappear from the face of this world. You would then be by yourself, along with your depression. Its a sure shot way to get over it - by drowning so deep in your sorrows that every other problem (negative feedback from client, betrayal from that item dancer, lost opportunity to scalp a couple of Euros from the production money etc) seems trivial.

Sleep is like a superpower. You've always had it but it takes a jolt, a shock, for you to realize that you posses it. And then once you become aware, you use it to your advantage and use it to save the world (by not firing your light engineer because light was too harsh and was right into the eyes of the client, by not giving a piece of your mind to that item dancer for her betrayal, by not putting in your papers because your boss is being an asshole for no reason etc).

Of course there are days when sleep in far. Even though you have tried hiding in the sea of tender white foam sheets. You dont want to the step out either (because you couldn't scalp some money of the production budget). So what do you do?

Use the bathtub! Next on my list.

4. Use the bathtub. That bathtub in the fancy hotel room that you were booked by the client, has been inviting you ever since you came in. Its been four days and you've hardly had any time to sleep, leave alone a shower. And now that event is over and there is nothing to do and everyone else is either getting drunk or hunting for their love or sleeping, you fill the tub up, make some lather, get a beer and just lie down in the tub.

Ideally you would have your true love in the tub with you but since today you are out of luck you just make use of your fantasies. No, no, not those fantasies. But fantasies of owning your own event company some day. Yes ladies and gentlemen, every event manager worth his salt wants to own an event company at some point in life. Sooner the better. And since he has been managing events for so long, he knows that he can trust a couple of his clients to give him work to get started.

So you drown in your fantasies, in your bath tub. And since fantasies don't really last long, it gets boring to just soak into water, you login to Facebook and start Like-ing and Comment-ing on check-ins that your colleagues posted a while back, from the most happening club of the town. And you curse them for not even mention-ing you in their posts. If you do get bored of that as well, of course you could read this series of posts (shameless plug) but you may find these too hard hitting and you may want to ignore these.

And you put your favorite music in background to help you relax. Music and beer. Mmmm.

5. Dance. Ever heard a drunk man dancing naked next to the bath tub? Well, I have had the pleasure of stumbling into bathrooms with such men least thrice in last three years. Averaging one per year, I would say its not a rare occurrence. Diwali happens once a year and its certain that it will come around each year. And I am sure I would stumble on more drunken revelries of the "free" kinds near the bathtub sometime soon, for its been some 8 months since the last incident.

And even if we dont dance in the bathtubs, we do shake a leg at that expensive club. Just that at those clubs, chances of finding better dancers are slightly higher and we detest competition of any kind.

We would rather not do it, than compromise on quality and output. Wait, is that line even valid here? It may not be. But its the safest line that we can rattle out in even our dreams when anyone talks about competition or money. Money? We would rather not do it, than compromise on quality and output.

Get the point?

No? You think its a gamble that you are taking by paying us so much? 

So much?

We would rather not do it, than compromise on quality and output.

Ok ok! Fine I'd gamble. 

Gamble? You too? Its next on the list of things that we do after an event to get over the depression!

6. Gamble. We are men of vice. We are vice-er than the vice-est of them all. And they say, there is no vice like gambling. Thing with gambling is that it gives you an opportunity to get over your sorrows by fast wins. And along with the opportunity to get even more adrenaline in your system. And these wins are tangible. You can hold them in your hand. Or put them in the bank. Or spend those wins to get you more love, more alcohol and more sleep at an even more expensive hotel.

Wins also make you the celebrity that you have always craved to be. All your life you have seen film stars, businessmen, politicians, cricketers, speakers from very close quarters and you secretly wish to be like them. You want to get phone calls at 3 in the night from random people. You want to be stalked. You want police protection bodyguards. You want it all. And since you cant sing or dance or speak or hit the ball as cleanly as Sachin can, you cant really get famous. You can only hope that you win so much money at the casino that the casino is forced to give you a security cover that make your celebrities envious of your stature.

And most importantly when you win, you can then go to the item dancer, ask her to perform exclusively for you and you can ask her boyfriend to manage THAT event. Figure it out. Exclusive event for an event manager, managed by the manager that event manager reported into, where the only performer is someone that the manager managed till a while back.

But then thats not how life operates. Does it?

In real life, rather than winning truck load of money, you end up losing your one year's savings. Because you knew last year that the client you manage will host their next event at Amsterdam, you saved for one full year to get that one shot at freedom, richdom and celebritydom. And there you are, all your money, now in pocket of, who else, the item dancer, who also likes to dabble into casinos when she is not having coffee or Sushi. You swear to never buy any other dancer any coffee. Life is after all about lessons learnt hard. And you also promise to yourself that when you own your event company, you would not give any work to that dancer.

And when you have lost all your money and hope, there is nothing left but to go back to your hotel room and write about your day.

Did I say write? Do event managers and writing coincide?

7. Write. Yep. We are not merely about yelling out loud in the walkie-talkies or reading from run-orders or saying yes to every demand from the client. We are lot deeper. We are better than your average Joes. We have emotions. We have perspective. And better still, we love to put them forth on paper. In black and white. Mostly on hotel stationary (and sometimes on the Internet as well).

And you must thank heavens that everything we write does not come out in open, especially what we wrote after we were drunk and we were betrayed and we lost money at casinos. If any of it was in open, the world would be a far worse place than what it is. After all we are privy to everything that goes behind the scenes in the entertainment industry, travel industry, hospitality industry, across international borders, offices of local administration and most potent of them all, our client's organizations.

We have more dirt than Paparazzi, NSA, Wikileaks and Baba Ramdev put together. And we have more means to spread it than India TV, Rajeev Masand, Arnab Goswami and Narendra Modi put together.

Just that we use discretion while making our thoughts public. Of course there is a little matter of saving our jobs but thats trifle considering a good event manager is always in demand. Dont believe me? I have been offered thousands of jobs and I have made millions since I quit my job a month back.

No, serious!

In the end 
Thats it. Thats all we do after an event is over. No one talks about it. Because we wants things here and we want them now. After an event is over, the event manager is left to fend for himself. Someone had to talk about it.

And a disclaimer to end it all, if you are a prospective employer or girlfriend or bride (or a dancer, only if you are vegetarian). Even though I know colleagues who do all of the above, in one night, I am slightly boring. After an event, all I do is item N3. And at times 7. And nothing else.

Believe me.

And thanks to DJ Killa for the post idea. And, you, drum roll, hope this is not apologetic?

Originally posted here.