Shoppers

In the past, I have discussed salesmen and their salestalk, that I dislike. But then there are two sides to each coin. If there are salesmen, then it follows that there must be shoppers as well. One may keep salesmen at bay, but what can one do with a shopper ? Unlike the salesman who is a stranger, the shopper is no stranger to you . She is your own spouse ! And try keeping her away from shopping !

Most ladies are not given to reading newspapers, but they open the local newspaper and find out the ads of "Sale" in the newspaper and decide that they need to go there.

I have mentioned while discussing salesmen that salesmen are trained to regard their customers as naive and fools. They may have valid reasons for their belief, I am sure. Most women, for some reason love to shop. And no, a lady does not like to shop alone. She needs to take at least one more female shopper with her. In case of my wife, it is our 11 year old daughter most of the time. So the two go and do shopping to their hearts' content.Salesmen certainly know how to attract shoppers to their shops. Write "Sale" on a board and display it outside the shop and women will invade the shop in droves. Women like to feel that they get items at lesser prices in shops displaying "Sale" board.

I like to tell her that one should purchase things when one needs them, not when there are shops with "Sale" board on them. I also tell her that doing shopping just for the heck of it is like being a slave to the shop keeper. The money that is with you now, ends up in the hands of the shopkeeper, and you end up with a item you do not need. Such logic falls on deaf ears obviously. My logical remarks are countered by sentimental rhetoric like-"Why is one earning money if not for buying things that one likes. Look at Jains (Indian equivalent of Jones with whom one must keep up) and see how they live in style.What would they think about us." There is no point telling her that the Jains suffer from health and psychological problems and they must surely look at us with envy on these fronts. Moreover, why should one bother what others think about us. But to her, it certainly matters.

Once ladies reach a shop,they love to haggle over price. The shopkeepers know about that, so they suitably inflate the price of the item. After some haggling, the shopkeeper "reluctantly" agrees to sell at a lower price, telling the lady how he is selling the item at a loss just because she is a valuable customer to him. And the lady feels very happy that she got an item at a "good" price.

Ladies also love to go to handicrafts exhibitions.The price available there are already low because there one is purchasing directly from the manufacturer, and moreover the sales in these exhibitions are tax exempted too. But ladies do not realise all this and they haggle over price even in these exhiitions.

The shopkeepers think of new ways to outsmart the ladies. One new trend these days is the offer of "buy one get one free". This in fact has become "old fashioned". Now it is "buy one get four free". The ridiculousness of this offer is lost on all the shoppers. Why would a shopkeeper give you five items for the price of one ? The fact that the price quoted for that one item is in reality the price of all five items is not something that the shoppers are prepared to exercise their brains over. And since they are made to belive that they are getting five for the price of one, their tend not to haggle over price at these shops.

And what are the products that these shoppers tend to buy? It is not books, it is not artifacts, it is not gadgets- it is garments,garments and garments 90% of the time- and remaining 10% of the time it is footwears.

The reason why women buy garments and not books is similar to the reason why they watch TV serials instead of reading books, the former is enjoyable and requires no exertion, and the later is sheer drudgery for them.

And what exactly is the modus operandi of shopping for garments ? The lady goes to a garment shop, and asks for garments to be shown. They are not very articulate in expressing what they want, and as a result end up with thirty-forty of even more pieces of items. And how exactly do they scrutinise and choose what they want ? They take the item in their hands, look at it from one side, then from the other side, and ask "intelligent" questions like, "rang udega to nahin" (the colour will not fade, I hope), "dhone se fatega to nahin" (I hope it will not get torn while washing it"). I have yet to come across a salesman who has replied to these questions in the affirmative, so why waste your breath asking these questions ?

Finally, after spending some couple of hours in a shop, the lady may decide that none of the items suited her requirement. But what exactly was her requirement ? She is not able to explain.

And even when she finally likes a piece, she is not able to explain why she liked it.

What is the role of the spouse of the shopper all this while? Most spouses could well be like the shoppers and they too may enjoy shopping. So they are beside their better half, enthusiastically participating and enjoying their shopping experience.

But what about someone like me ? I agree to take her to the shopping place, that is all. I make it clear that I am not going shopping with her.I mostly wait outside. But sometimes, I am forced to accompany her against my wishes. Most of the time, when she asks me whether I need some new clothes too, I say no. But sometimes, she decides that I need them, and so I am forced to go inside the shop.

The arduous process of choosing the garments commences. I half heartedly participate in choosing them. I do not make any intelligent enquires about the clothes. Then comes the part that I dread the most. Try out these ones, I am told. Taking a few chosen clothes, I am asked to go to the change room and try them out. After putting on each of them, I would come out and demonstrate it to my wife that the garment in question is alright, tight, or lose or whatever. After that ordeal is over, and I am back in my original clothes, I finally try to have a say- this pant is tight, it will not do. The salesman states that it would get loose after a wash. That one in loose, so that will hopefully shrink after a wash, I add sarcastically.

Later, the wife admonishes me not to make such remarks as the salesmen are only doing their job. Yes, they are doing a good job because no one applies one's mind when these salesmen glibly talk about these clothes shrinking or spreading after a wash.

It is because of these dreaded experiences that I prefer waiting outside the shop if I can help it. And this wait could turn out to be quite long. Evening may turn to night, and vehicles of other shoppers, who arrived later, also leave, but there is no indication of my two inhouse shoppers coming back anytime soon. And it is not just a question of walking down a shop and finding where they are. In all this while, they may have visited many shops, and may have gone to some shop in the small bylanes, looking for bargains. Good that we have mobiles these days, I think. I take out my mobile and ring her. What do I hear ? " This mobile is switched off" is the message. The feeling is one of anger, as well as concern. Why keep your mobile switched off, when you have one . It is night time and they have gone somewhere to the interior of the market, which is not advisable. This and other worrying thoughts come to one's mind.

Just as I am despairing and deciding that things are not looking good, what with all others shoppers gone, there they are. They are carrying a few purchased items alright, but she states that she could not get what she wanted . Why should it take her so long only to discover that what she wanted was not available. But I wisely keep my opinion to myself. I only tell her that she should have kept her mobile on . My mobile, where is it ? She searches for it, but as usual she is unable to find it. She asks me to call her number, and I tell her that the phone was switched off, so there was no use calling that number.

By now, I have realised that shopping is her way of unwinding. More than buying a thing, it is going to a shop and spending time making enquiries etc is what matters to ladies. Just going there, buying an item and coming out of the shop in a few minutes is not for them. If I have to buy something ( it would mostly be a book, not a garment), I would just go to a shop, locate the book, buy it and come out of the shop, and the whole exercise will not take more than a few minutes. I will not ask for ten copies of the same or similar books and I will not make enquiries like "will the pages of the book get dog eared", "the cover is not looking right, show the cover in some other colour". In fact, if I go to a shop and end up spending some time inside the shop, I feel obliged to buy something. But that is not the case with ladies. They have no compunction wasting their own time as well as that of the shopkeepers. Of course, neither of the parties regard it as wastage of time.

So we come back home, and it turns out that her mobile was left behind in the home. She switches it on, and rings her sister/ cousin/ acquaintance and gabs for half an hour talking about her shopping experience. Yes, ladies can spend as much time talking on phone as they do in shopping. While shopping, they are filling up the coffers of the garment sellers. While talking on phone (they too have the equivalent of "Sale" tag- they call it cheaper talk time), they are filling up the coffers of the telephone companies. Now I realise why the garment and telephone industry in India is flourishing.
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Once upon a time I watched a reality show on TV

Saas bahu serials
When cable TV came into India, they did not have much idea what to do in the early days.Initially, they had song and dance shows like chitrahaar. Then came serials. Then came Ms Ekta Kapoor, daughter of the erstwhile Jumping jack of Bollywood movies, and she hit upon the jackpot- in the form of Saas Bahu serials. Now, Ekta means unity, but her saas bahu serials have actually caused disunity in many families which have been avid watchers of such serials.

Quiz shows
Then came quiz shows.These quiz shows, hosted by celebrity actors,would reward participants who could reach the hot seat. Of course, reaching the hot seat through by dialling the given numbers was tougher than the tasks that mythological heroes were called upon to perform in the past. These quiz shows in turn were often used to launch new saas bahu serials which followed just after the quiz show.

Reality show
Now, these channels have hit upon another formula. It is called "reality shows". In these shows,people typically sing and/or dance,and their performances is judged by celebrity judges. After their performance, jugdes give them marks. A few participants, getting the least marks get eliminated. Not just the jugdes, public is also asked to jugde the fate of the participants. After the performance, the participants has a message for the audience in which he requests the audience to vote for him through SMS.

Presenter of the show takes sadistic pleasure in announcing which participants are in danger zone, and then it is with great fanfare and melodrama that the eliminated participant is thrown out of the contest.

Dissenting Participants/Judges
Often, some participants who get poor marks allege foul play and stage a walk out. Not just that, sometimes, one of the celebrity jugdes also alleges foul play when his favourite participant gets eliminated, and he too stages a walk out.

Vote through SMS
And there are a huge number of audience who enjoy watching these "reality" shows, but the people who really enjoy it the most are the serial makers and the mobile companies, who roll in megabucks through the millions of SMSes that the public sends to vote for their favourite participants. The revenue thus generated in a matter of hours is easily more than what the sponsors of these serials pour into the coffers of these serial makers.

Watching a reality show
I am one of the few who can never watch these kind of shows, and I make no secret of my aversion for such serials.And as if to tease me, every channel has got this kind of serials at prime time. And incidentally,there are quite a large number of Indian channels these days.

Against the best of my judgement, I decided to watch one such show on 26th january.

What was this show
It was a Zee TV show called "Sa Re Ga Ma" where kids special contests were going on. Kids would sing songs and they would be judged by two celebrity judges- viz playback singers Suresh Wadkar and Sonu Nigam. The show, like all such shows had a host too, the host being son of another playback singer (Udit Narayan).

topic of show for 26 january
So, the programme begins with music, and the teenage host welcomes all, like the grown up hosts do in other such shows, using big high sounding words. The show apparently has songs sung by kids on a particular topic. The topic for 26th january was patriotic songs.I had actually managed to find out beforehand that the topic had to be patriotic songs. You see, I have access to a cluster of supercomputers, which we Rocket scientists use to decode such hard to guess information.

Chief guest arrives
These programmes have one more mandatory member- viz the chief guest. And the host welcomes the chief guest- the one and the only Bipasha Basu. She arrives on the stage, accompanied by background music of "back to the future". And before you have any naughty ideas, she was properly covered in a white sari, which, it appeared to me was not washed with Super Nirma. Not surprising, as she, like Mallika Sherawat, does not have any endorsements with companies that have anything to do with garments.

Participants
The kids may be only 10-12 years of age, but they appeared well versed in the manners of such reality shows. It appears that one of the kids had thrown a tantrum in yesterday's programme, like Rakhi Sawant throws in another such reality show, and had walked out of the show. The judge lectured her against such conduct- "buri baat hai", "hamare show me aisa nahi hona chahiye" etc. And if the kid was anything like kids of her age,the message fell on deaf ears ( ek kaan se sunkar doosre se nikaal diya).

Judges
Contest begins. A kid comes, and she sings a patriotic song which was at least 50 years old. I am stumped, because I have never heard this song. The judges are equally clueless, going by their facial expressions. But after the song was over, Sonu Nigam must have found out about the song by googling, and he displayed his knowledge nonchalantly by saying things like" How come you sang this song. You are a girl, this was sung by Rafi, even boys would shy away from singing such a difficult song". The girl mouths some sentences memorised by rote- viz I love this song, this is such a nice patriotic song, I always wanted to sing this song, and the jugdes go, wah wah wah wah, bahut achche, bahut acche, taaliyan. After the song, the girl requests the audience to vote for her through SMS, just like the participants do in other such programmes.

Another participant, a boy this time, comes and sings another patriotic song of equally old vintage. But I could vaguely recall having heard the song sometime in the past. And I feel so pleased about myself.

Chief guest intervenes
Then a girl participant comes, sings another patriotic song. Judges, like me, are on a strong wicket this time,as both have actually heard this song before. So, they start finding fault with the performance, something which they could not do with the earlier songs. You misspelt one word- says one judge. You lost the sur at one place,comments the other judge. Bipasha Basu, unable to take this nitpicking, compliments the girl in Bangla that she sang well, and do not get discouraged by such criticism. And it turns out that the girl is Assamese ! Does not matter, Assamese people can understand and talk in Bangla, but the two jugdes are once again stumped. Sonu Nigam tries to curry favour with Bipasha by trying to speak some Bangla, but not with much success.

Another participant sings, followed by another nitpicking by the judges on the diction of the singer. When Bipasha basu intervenes, Sonu Nigam pulls her leg ( figuratively- you naughty!) saying that yes, the singer at least did not get her "ra" and "da" mixed, insinuating that Ms Basu gets them mixed.

Then one kid came, and he sang the song "kar chale hum fida jaan o tan saathiyon" from Haqeeqat. This was one song that everyone had heard about, and everyone appreciated the singer.

Voting by public
Then audience are urged to vote for their favourites, and it turns out that whichever singers are praised the most by judges are kicked out by the audience. Lovely. I enjoyed this part ( wearing my sadistic hat) to see the expressions on the face of the judges.They express their disappointment that the best singer should be kicked out of the show. Their reaction, as well as the reaction of the public is priceless.

I will let you know when I watch another such show. May be I should watch a saas bahu serial next and present my report. So keep watching this space.
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Mad ads and fads in India in 1960s and70s-part II

After sartorial fashions, we were subjected to a different kind of fashion. It was not associated with clothes, but with physical appearance. People were subjected to the magazines ads of bullworker where skinny 95 pound kids were shown getting transformed into a clone of Arnold Schwarzenegger in 14 days, else your money back. And at Rs 273/- for one bullworker set ( including VPP charges), it was lots of money those days.

But I do not think bullworker ever refunded any money. In case someone asked for their money back, they would point out fine print which the user did not follow which prevented them from bulking up, hence no refunding the amount.

Then there were ads to increase one's height. Lesser the price of the product, higher the result promised. For instance, for Rs 85/-, you could increase your height by 15 cm, where as Rs 300/- for another product increased your height only by 5 cms. Ads showed the heights of the leading film actors- Amitabbh Bachchan 188 cms, Vinod Khanna 185 cms and Dharmendra as 185 cms. Now I agree to the heights of Amitabh Bachchan and Vinod Khanna, but I cannot accept that Dharmendra was 185 cm. He looked much shorter than Vinod Khanna in the movies in which they acted together.

I wonder what has happened to those height increasing ads now a days? Instead of the average height of the leading heroes increasing, now a days, we have the leading heroes half a foot shorter than the heroes of 1970s.

Now a days those ad givers have a much easier job, if they decide to mention the height of the leading heroes of today- something like Aamir Khan 167 cm, SRK 168 cm, salman Khan 166.37 cm, etc. But considering that most leading ladies are taller than the leading heroes, there may not be too many takers for these ads now a days, what with even Rajpal Yadav becoming a celebrity that would make Mukri green with envy.

These days, we have teleshop marketing on TV, in which foreigners tell us, in dubbed Hindi, how they were losers in their lives and how buying the teleshop product made them winners.

I think I have digressed a great deal. It was like going from Bombay to Goa and landing at Kashmir. There was actually a bollywood movie in which it happens.

What I wanted to say was that all these improve your height or get bulky ads required you to sweat out a lot, in addition to parting with your hard earned money. And we Indians being the way we are, we want things for free without sweating it out in the process, and we want results instantly. And "martial arts" offered exactly that. It promised people that they need not improve their height or physique, but they could still thrash big built people by making use of martial arts.

Mainstream audience would not go for "English movies", unless it promised some eye candy. And in case of desi movies, they would keep away from "art" movie. So it was a big paradigm shift for people when they began to throng for movies that were in "English" and moreover they were called art movies- viz "Martial art" movies.

It was the first time in India when tickets of a non desi movie were actually sold on black even in smaller cities, like the one where I was growing up in those days. These movies, called "Enter the dragon", followed by "Return of the dragon" had a skinny hero called Bruce Lee, who was regarded as the best martial art expert in the world. Of course, he was already dead by that time, and that helped add to his legend. Indians could for the first time identify themselves with a hero who was of similar built as compared to most movie goers, and that must have enabled the audience to feel a rapport with him, which they never felt with big built Western actors. Chinky looks suddenly became fashionable.

And believe it or not, people who earlier used to adopt boxing pose while in a street brawl, began to adopt "martial arts" pose while fghting. And in absence of background "dishum dhishum" noise, they would make this noise themselves, accompanied by the yelling, which every self respecting martial artist was required to use as part of his arsenal. No, I am not making this up. I have actually seen people fight in a "martial art" or in more simple terms- "judo Karate" method.

Bollywood too tried to jump into the bandwagon. The resident chinky Danny was roped into a few movies. One new chinky looking actor, Ardhendu Bose, who also had the formidable credentials of being the nephew of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, was signed in a movie. But all these ventures failed.

There was a vacuum in Bollywood movies.Bollywood badly needed a desi Bruce Lee.

In came Mithun da. He proved a package deal. Front stallers could readily identify with him as he looked like one of their own. And he was supposedly trained in martial arts, and looked more convincing in fight scenes than say Rajesh Khanna, Sanjeev Kumar and Dev Saab. And that was enough of a credential for Mithun da to become public's desi Bruce Lee.

In addition, Mithun Da, in between his fights, would also dance ( pronounced as "dense" by him) gyrating around his pelvis. So he got the additional sobriquet of desi John Travolta as well.

Not content with that, his film makers would cast him as top secret agent too. His designation with the word "TOP SECRET AGENT" would be written in big bold letters on his car. In short, Mithun da was Bruce Lee, John Travolta and James Bond, all rolled into one. What more do you want ? His fans simply loved him. The less charitable fans and critics called him poor man's Amitabh Bachchan.

So that sums up my discussion for the day. I will be back for more, obviously.

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India in Olympics-proposed plan

Enough of looking back at Indian sports in the past. Let us look ahead. For the last four Olympic games, Indians have been managing to win one medal each, and the medal's metal is improving too. If it was bronze in 1996 and 2000, it was a silver in 2004 and gold in 2008.

But one medal in one Olympics is just not good enough. It is time when India sports authorities did some thinking.

Knowing fully well that Indian authorities are not likely to exert themselves in such strenuos tasks like thinking, planning, etc, I have done all the hard work for them. So ladies and gentlemen, here is my master plan.

Ancient Olympic games only had individual games. Modern Olympic games too should have included only individual games, but the Olympic movement has been vitiated by the inclusion of team games. With the inclusion of many modern games, each with their own rules, Olympics games no longer offer a level playing field for participants of different disciplines.

For example, look at a team game vis a vis an individual game. In football or Hockey, about two dozen people and officilas huff and puff for many matches before coming up with one medal. On the other hand, an individual game like swimming offers individuals the chance to win many medals. Surely one cannot say that a team winning Hockey of football gold is aless worthy Olympian than someone like Michael Phelps or Mark Spitz. So it makes sense to expend one's energy in individual events rather than team events. If one looks at the most successful Olympic nations, they indeed have adopted this plan.

But even the individual games cannot be said to have level playing fields either. In swimming, we have different events, where you are required to swim differently ( freestyle,backstroke, breaststroke etc) and for different distances and each of these events have medals. Often the same swimmer can participate in many of these events. On the other hand, sports like boxing, wrestling,weightlifting etc have entirely different rules. Here one individual can only participate in one event, but there are many events based on weifght categories, and a team can have participants in all these weight categories. Now, it is not as if the boxing methods are any different for the different categories, so why should we have people of different weight categories take on opponents of similar weight only. Why the same principle should not be followed in atheletics, for instance.In atheletics too, we have huge discuss throwers from European countries having undue adbnatage over small built South Asians. Why not have different weight categories in throwing events too? Then I am sure cricket playing nations from the Indian subcontinent may find a few of their players in the podium in the lighter weight categories.

But I agree that old habits die hard. Indians and their neighbours are so used to playing cricket that they will find it difficult to take to individual games, so instead of turning bowlers with congenitally defective elbows into javelin throwers, why not try and get cricket itself into Olympics. If team sports like Hockey, football etc can be played in Olympics, then why not cricket?

But while trying to get cricket introduced in Olympics, the ICC ( BCCI by default) should not make the same mistake as Hockey or football bodies do. BCCI should try and ensure that there are many sets of medals available in cricket events,like in individual sports. Having many sets of medals in a team game like cricket will be possible, if we can have different formats of limited overs cricket in Olympics. Thus we can have T20, F15, T10 and F5. This is not my idea incidentally. This was the idea of my friend Raja. So I hereby call this idea Raja Babu method of playing cricket ( Raja Babu sounds similar to Duckworth Lewis, and it incidentally is also the name of a tharki Bollywood movie starring Govinda).

OK, if this idea goes through and gets implemented, what is going to happen ? We may find out that India may once again find themselves on the lurch as teams like Korea, Argentina, Netherlands etc may soon catch on and start beating India the way they have started beating India in Hockey these days. Just as England's T20 euphoria evaporated as Chris Broad's over went for six sixes, Indian euphoria with IPL may vanish ( of it has not vanished already) once T20 and its lower variants become Olympic events.

What to do then. I have another plan. and this draws inspiration from events of weightlifting, boxing etc. Just as we have these individual sports based on weight, let us have the team sports of cricket played on the basis of height. There could be cricket events for three height categories- viz short ( players below 5'6"), medium ( 5'6" to 6'), and tall ( over 6' tall players). This will not only ensure that the number of sets of medal will triple ( 3 sets of medals for T20, F15, T10 and F5 each), it will also ensure that India will stand some reasonable chances in the lower height categories. I can visualise Australia, South Africa etc struggling to put up playing XIs in the short category. But Indians should not get complacent. Team like Bangladesh may really become a powerhouse and capitalise in the F5 (short) category.

I would have given this method of playing cricket my name, but I could not come up with the name of a suitable bollywood movie including my name and featuring a tapori set of actors. So I have decided to name this method on a movie featuring another set of tapori actors. Yes, I hereby name this method of playing cricket as Munna Bhai method of playing cricket.
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India in Olympics- In the past

For those who have followed India fortune in Olympics for many decades, Indians used to pride themselves that they were the best in the world in Hockey, and that would cover up for their ineptitude in other sports. In typical India style hype, handed over to us for hundreds of generations, we were also told that Milkha Singh was the best runner in the world ( unfortunate not to win a medal). But the biggest hype that we were fed was that Dara Singh, the wrestler was the strongest man in the world, and if he did not participate in Olympics then it was because he was a professional. Another version was that Dara Singh did not participate in Olypics because it was beneath his dignity to participate among such lowly opponents.

Come 1970s and India stopped winning gold in Hockey too. And in any case Indians were just not good enough in any other Olympic sports. During those days, India had won three test series in a row, and some Indian fans actually thought that India was the number 1 cricket team in the world.

Come 1974, and Indian team was beaten black and blue in England. The fact that Indians did not have a pace bowler hurt their cause badly, as even mediocre batsmen made merry against the Indian bowling attack. Indian spinner Chandrashekhar was the quickest bowler in the side.It is like Kumble being the quickest bowler in the present day team, that is how pedestrian the Indian pace bowling attack used to be.

India sucking in Hockey as well as cricket meant that India sports fans were a dejected lot. The negative thinkers were on to their familiar rhetoric- " We are world's second most populous nation, and we cannot win a medal. Look at small nations, they win so may medals." Others would say that India did not win medals because there was so much poverty, and so much corruption in the country.But there were countries poorer and more corrupt than India that were doing better than India in Olympics. So it would be said that Indians were weak because of their dietary habits, for instance they did not eat meat in general and beef in particular. But then our neighbouring countries which had no such dietary taboos were not doing any better than India in Olympics either. Then apologists would point out that Pakistanis had fast bowlers in their ranks and Indians did not have.

Some fans actually thought that Dara Singh, the strongest man in the world, should be included in the Indian cricket team to bowl fast. Experts said that it was not a wise move, because in cricket you do not have to wrestle with the ball.

Just as there was this myth about Dara Singh being the strongest man in the world, there was this counter myth that Muhammad Ali, the heaveyweight boxer was a Pakistani. My argument that he was an American, cut no ice with my school mates, who simply refused to believe me.

Then there were the proponents of past Indian glory who would suggest that India was the greatest country in the world in all spheres, including sports in the past, and it was the conspiracy of the European invaders like British etc that the native know how and skills in all fields, including sports was lost.

Another suggestion was that India would certainly do well if Indian native games like kabaddi, khokho, marbles etc were included in Olympics.

What about the thinking in the official circles? The IAS babus sitting in the corridor of powers would ensure their smooth and unobtrusive participation in Olympic games as officials, whereas the actual players would be running from pillar to post,first to willy nilly qualify, and then to get the paperworks ready.

Qualifying for the Olympics was the main aim of the players. If players of other teams thought about qualifying for finals in the Olympics,then India players thought well in advance, and finished their thinking well in advance too. The thought uppermost in their minds was to somehow achieve the qualifying mark which was arbitrarily set low enough, something like the mark achieved by third place finisher in the previous Olympics or so. And interesingly, a few of the participants actually managed to "meet" these marks. Of course, once they actually participated in the Olympics, they would come nowhere near the mark that helped them qualify for the Olympics.

The Indian officials and media maintained that participation in Olympics would give Indian sportsmen good exposure that would help them gain experience. Was Olympics about winning or about getting experience and exposure ? Gaining experience and exposure for what ? For Asian games ? But such rubbish was actually bought by all without any murmurs.

There was a "celebrated" case in 1984 Olympics when one Indian weighlifter qualified to participate in a certain weight category, but when it was time for his participation in his event, he was found overweight. And what did the Indian contingent do? They fielded him in the next higher weight category. Simple !

Having discussed Indian Olympic efforts in the past, I will discuss what Indian needs to do in future, in my next article.

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Card games and I

When I was growing up in 1960s and 70s, playing cards were considered bad in many "respectable" circles. In fact playing card games was considered as synonymous with gambling. As a result, I never had any exposure to cards, a nice and properly brought up kid that I was.

I was finally introduced to playing cards in 1980s in my hostel, and the card game that was popular among card players was bridge. Us freshers were given a list containing rules of bridge by our seniors, and we were required to learn them. There were some of us who were already exposed to cards and bridge, and their expertise was much in demand among the other freshers. We would seek these knowledgeable people out and request them to enlighten us. They would condescend to help out, but for a consideration. Their charges were - cad ( cadbury chocolate), double omelette and other such goodies.

Despite the crash course we underwent, there were some who found the rules more difficult to crack than a jigsaw puzzle.They would memorise the bridge rules by rote, without actually understanding them, and hoping that their learning by rote would help them pass muster with the seniors.

And this was not the only thing we were supposed to learn. We were also given the rules of billiards and snooker to learn. But that discussion will have to wait for some other day.

I had great difficulty understanding the concept of suit and colour, bid and trick,deal and trump etc. When I finally managed to have an idea what a suit was, I found myself struggling to remember the terms for them. I had heard of hindi terms like "paan, "eent" "chidi" and "faawda" in my younger days when exposed to such talk by some less reputable school mates. But associating them with their English equivalent terms turned out to be a giant mental step for my limited mental faculties.

Having learnt about suits and colour the hard way, it was the turn to grapple with bidding. We were given the rules of bidding in what was called strong club, semi strong diamond convention, which was suitably amended in house and renamed as CCC. The acronym shall remain unexpanded to public, the hint is that none of the C's stood for cricket.

I was among those who just crammed the rules and managed to pass muster. I never put this "knowledge" to practice.

A few years later, I finally got interested in playing brigde, and I brushed up on the CCC rules once again, and started hobnobbing with bridge players. Initially I would just watch the experts in action from the sidelines, hoping to pick up valuable tips on how to play the game.

After a period of apprenticeship, I was finally offered the chance to be one of the players. Boy, I felt like a debutant Indian cricketer who finally gets selected in the playing XI.

Cards were shuffled ( fentna was the hindi term) and then dealt ( baantna). I got my 13 cards and tried to arrange the cards spreading them into a fan like structure, as I had seen others doing. And I started sweating. The cards seemed to stick to each other and would not come to the V shaped figure that the other participants managed with such ease. Manging to make the cards took like an untidy fanlike shape, with a few cards looking like they would slip off any time, my next worry was to find out what carrds I actually had. All the cards were in left hand i a haphazard way.. Others would bid and I would struggle to make head or tail of my cards.

Keep the cards of one suit together, came the friendly advice. Yes, it was a very good advice, why did not I think of it earlier?

My bidding would often be wrong and my partners, never very patient men, would give me a mouthful of their tongue lashing. In case our team won the bid, my partner would be the active player and I the dummy, literally as well as figuratively, and I had little role in that hand. But in case the opponents won the bid, then I had to be an active player. I would not know which card to play. "You should have played that card, I had such good cards of the other suit to take advantage of, if only you had played that card"- this was a standard criticism I would cop from my partner.

I was always amazed how other players in general, and my partner in particular always knew what card I needed to play, and if our team lost, it was always because of me.

But I was loving the game, and when you love something, you take such pinpricks in your stride.

I began taking interest in the saturday English paper where there was one bridge column and one bridge game would be discussed. I started reading that. I started cutting that clipping every saturday. In fact, I began to look for bridge articles on all news papers and sports magazines. I even bought bridge books when I went to bigger places like say Calcutta or Delhi.

But the published games showed who had what cards, and what cards were left after a few tricks. In real life contests, I as a player had no way of knowing who had what cards. Others appeared to guess the cards of others, and even knew who had what cards left. I could never acquire that ability to visualise the cards.

Once a bridge tournament was held in the hostel, and I too decided to participate. The most dificult part was to find a partner. Seeking a good player as partner When you were not good enough as a bridge player took guts, and it was like an ineligible bachelor going around proposing to eligible girls.Most good players had already formed pairs and I finally managed to convince one person to be my partner.Fortunately he was a decent and a patient man. We managed to do decently well. Of course we did not go too far. I am not aware how we got eliminated. To me we seemed to have done reasonably well.

Cut to present- I no longer play bridge as that needs 4 players and those bridge enthusiasts are now spread over to various parts of the country. But that does not mean I have lost touch with cards. My daughter likes to play cards. She has learnt one card game from my wife ( no idea what it is called) which can be played by any number of players. Here one starts with a card ( say 7 of diamond or 7 of other suits) and every participant has to play the next higher or lower card available with them. The person who disposes off all his cards wins, people left with cards get points depending on cards left with them. Player who has the lowest points after a few rounds wins.

I am not interested in the game, but I am dragged into playing. "We will play only 15 rounds", my daughter assures me.

If I deal the cards, the two would accuse me of giving them bad cards. "I have got two kings", one would say, "and I have got two", another would say, and I could very well see that they were lying because I would have three kings in my hand.

At the end of the 15 rounds, when I invariably finish last, the two have a hearty laugh at my expense. I tell them that the match was fixed, because the two of them were liberally exchanging information about their cards. I also tell them that these card games are like Sharjah cricket tournaments, they were like Pakistan, and I was like India. I would also threaten to pull out of these games like BCCI pulled out from Sharjah tournaments. On rare occasions when I win and one of them finish at the bottom, the loser throws lots of tantrum unlike me, the graceful loser.

Of course, pulling out of these fixed matches has never been a viable option for me, though it is not for want of trying. May be I need to do some introspection why I am so bad in cards- or as they say in cards lingo,Playing cards has never been a strong suit for me.The only way I can finish off their entusiasm for cards is if I start beating them regularly. Just as England's enthusiasm for Twenty20 cricket ended when Yuvraj hit Chris Broad for 6 sixes in an over,I need to hit their card craze for a few sixes.Yes, let me start playing bridge with them.My CCC notes, here I come.
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My encounters with mice- part I

Dogs, cats, horses etc are animals that mankind have domesticated over the last few thousands years, but mice appear to have moved in with them uninvited, like refugees. And these mice have continued to torment mankind ever since.

Conventional wisdom has it that women are afraid of mice, but men are not. I think this wisdom is not entirely true. I am a male and I was afraid of mice as a young kid. Of course, admitting to it was a different matter altogether.

Women can actually admit to it and demonstrate it when opportunity presented itself, that they were afraid of mice, and everybody would accept it as a matter of course.But a man cannot admit to it without running the risk of being ridiculed.

Well, as I said, I was afraid of mice, but I managed to hide it ( I feel) by putting up a brave face when face to face with a mouse. In case there were other men in the house, they would take care of the mouse.

But there were cases when I was on my own, and I needed to act. I would try to ignore the mouse, hoping that it would go away and leave the house on its own. But it rarely happened. I would try to scare it off, but all that would only cause the mouse to hide behind some articles, only to come out in the open as if to mock me.

When I could no longer ignore it, I would be forced to contemplate strong action ( similar to the strong action that Govt of India threatens to take every time there is some terrorist attack in India).

I would arm myself for the war. I would wear shoes, and full trousers, and also full shirt. The head would be left unguarded, because there was good probability that the mouse would not be able to target that high. Another reason could be that helmets were not yet in use either in cricket or while riding a two wheeler. Incidentally, two wheelers those days meant bicycles, not scooters or motor bikes.

I would also wear gloves ( one could not take any chances) and carry a stick which needed to be atleast 4 feet long.

Suitably armed like this, I would cautiously approach towards the battle field which was the space behind some furniture in the house. I would move the stick in air menacingly, hoping to score a few browny points over the mouse. I would detect no reaction from the opposition. I would hit the floor with my stick in the general direction where the mouse could be hiding. No reaction.

I would move the furniture around hoping to clear the room a bit for freer movement of the arm. Suddenly I would jump in the air in a reflex action, and the mouse would scurry around to the other corner of the room, missing me my millimeters. Despite my nervousness, I would manage to have a glimpse of the mouse vanishing behind books.

That would really make me uncomfortable. Mouse eating off my prized possessions viz magazines ( Chandamama, Lotpot, Nandan, Indrajal comics, Manoj Bal pocket books etc) was something too painful to even imagine. I needed to do something and fast to protect the books.

I would move towards the books gingerly, and hit the stick against the wall, trying to make the mouse run away from the books. I would even leave one corner free offering the mouse free passage to escape. Like Indian government dealing with terrorists, I fully respected the rights of the mouse.

It appeared to me that the mouse was not interested in my generous offer. More than the mouse, it would put me a tight corner, as then I would become obliged to carry out my threat. I would go to the book shelf, and remove some books, and then jump up in the air, startled. There was the mouse, hiding behind that very book.By the time my airborne frame would land back on the ground, the mouse would have run away.

Sigh of relief, the mouse has run away from the house, I would rationalise and start relaxing. My feelings would be mixed. Certainly it was a stalemate. It would have been better had I managed to kill the mouse instead of just scaring it away. But just like the Indian bowlers did not know where from their next wicket was going to come from, I too had no idea how I was going to notch my first kill against a mouse.

Just as I would almost forget all about the mouse, it would reappear again. By that time I was in no doubt that the mouse had sized me up and was regarding me as a pushover. Big mistake, Mr Mouse,one should not underestimate one's opponent. Like the Indian cricketers, the mouse would tend to become complacent. I would aim at the mouse with my stick, and miss it entirely. The mouse would run away, and again hide, this time behind a huge box.

I would go to the box, and push the box against the wall with all my strength, and I would continue to keep pushing for many minutes. No movement from behind the box. I would pull the box away from the wall, and search for the mouse. There is nothing on the floor. There is nothing on the wall either. Where has the mouse gone? Suddenly, I would jump up in air, startled, as I would notice the mouse hiding on the side of the box. The mouse would run away again, and this time behind the books.

This time I would not pause, I would go to the bookshelf and push the thick book under which the mouse had vanished. I would keep pressing it against the wall for some time. Carefully, I would release the pressure, and then remove the book. This time, just as I was on the verge of jumping up again, I would manage to control myself. There it was, the mouse had got squashed between the book and the wall. And it was not merely dead, it was most sincerely dead, as they say in the "Wizard of the oz".

My chest would swell a few inches, and I would feel like Vetaal ( Phantom)feels just after vanquished an army of baddies singlehandedly. This time my feeling would be unalloyed. I managed to kill a mouse. A 'mouse', can you believe it. No one ridicules Atul and gets away with it. The mouse learnt it the hard way, let it be a lesson for other mice of the world. Hopefully, this would send a strong message to the other mice that I was not to be trifled with.

I would feel happy with myself and with the world. I would tear a piece of paper from an old newspaper, and carefully wrap it around the tail of the mouse, ready to run away, in case the mouse miraculously came back to life. Luckily it would not. I would lift the mouse triumphantly by its tail, and pose with it for the benefit of non existent cameras. Then I would go out of the house, and give my body a rotation , like a discuss thrower, and in a discuss thrower's motion, throw the discuss.., I mean the mouse, away. It would only lands a few feet away, but that did not matter. What mattered was that I had finally triumphed against a mouse.

(to be continued....)
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Explaining old filmstars to new generation

Sholay may be a blockbuster for people of my generation, but those who were born two decades after Sholay was released are just as unimpressed with this movie as I used to be with Devdas and Mother India, movies that were released before I was born.

I tried to introduce my daughter to Sholay, and she was not impressed. I realised that she did not know any of the characters and as such she could not identify with them. Telling her the names of these actors also did not help matters. Then I got a brain wave.

"Look, that person in the movie is Amitabh Bachchan- father of Abhishek Bachchan."-I informed her.

"But he is Mr Crorepati."- She corrected me.

"Yes, he is the anchor of Kaun banega crorepati but he was a famous film hero before that."- I informed her.

"And look, that is Jaya. She is the mother of Abhishek Bachchan."- I continued.

" Crorepati's friend in the movie is called Dharmendra. He is the father of Sunny Deol,Bobby Deol and Esha Deol. And look, the tangewali is Hema Malini, mummy of Esha Deol".

Adding 2+2=4 ( she is good in maths),my daughter said-"Why dont you just tell me that she is the mother of Sunny Deol, Bobby Deol and Esha Deol."

"Err, she is not,... I mean..Look that is Helen. She is the mother of Salman Khan."

My daughter took a closer look, trying to find any resemblance between Helen and Salman Khan.

"And look, that is Sachin.You know him, he comes in TV serials."

"Yes, I know him", she was pleased to see someone whom she could identify from her TV watching.

"See, look at that bearded fellow Sambha,his name is McMohan and he is the uncle of Raveena Tandon. And that fellow Kaalia, he is the brother of the lady who plays the role of Principal in the serial Zabaan Sambhal ke".

By now she was getting interested by the realisation that these oldtimers were relatives of present day actors whom she knew. She brought me a piece of paper, and asked me to write which of the oldtimer actor was related to which present day actor, so that she could memorise it and later impress her friends with her knowledge of these retro actors.

I started to make entries, but soon I found myself making flow charts, where every film personality was somehow related to everyone else.

I started with Kapoors. See, Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh are the papa and Mummy of Ranbir Kapoor. Randhir Kapoor and Babita are the Papa and Mummy of Karishma and Kareena. Their grandfather was Raj Kapoor, and great grandfather was Prithvi Raj Kapoor.

Realising that such explanations would be boring to her,I decided to show her some movie clips and explain to her who those people were. I showed her a clip of Tanuja, and explained that she is the mom of Kajol and saas of Ajay Devgan. Nutan, well, she is the mother of Mohneesh Bahl and mausi of Kajol. Shammi Kapoor and Shashi Kapoor are brothers of Raj Kapoor and uncles of Rishi Kapoor and Randheer Kapoor.Feroz Khan is the father of Fardeen Khan and father in law of Hrithik Roshan.Premnath, and Rajendra Nath, they are brothers, and they were the brothers in law of Raj Kapoor. Sharmila Tagore is the mom of Saif Ali Khan and Soha. And look this is Jeetendra, papa of Ekta Kapoor, who makes all those saas bahu serials that you watch like an old lady.

" But you too watch cricket on TV,papa."

" Yes, I do, but in cricket you never know the result so there is suspense. But these serials are all similar, where everyone is conspiring against everyone else."

" that is why I watch reality shows." she pointed out.

" Err.. well.. where were we, yes,we were talking about old actors."

"Papa, it means that every film actor is related to everyone else in Hindi movies."- she observed.
Even I was coming to the same conclusion. I realised that Rajendranath was related to Ashwarya Rai, and Mumtaz to Roshan through marriages that took place many decades ago, or many decades later.

When I showed her the clips of Kishore Kumar's songs of "Chalti ka naam gadi", she was hooked. She herself enquired about Kishore Kumar and she quickly grasped the fact that Ashok Kumar and Anup Kumar were his brothers, and that Amit Kumar was his son. In fact, she on her own initiative watched the entire movie, enjoying it to her heart's content. Later I showed her Kishore Kumar's songs from Asha ("eena meena deeka"), Half ticket ("chel cheel chilla ke"), and Padosan ("Ek chatur naar"). She was mightily impressed with Kishore Kumar, and I was pleased that here was one great film celebrity from the past whom even the younger generation finds worthy of admiration.

"Papa, where is Kishore Kumar now ?"
"He died 20 years ago"
"Oh", she was genuinely sorry-"How old was he?"
"He was 58."
"He should have taken better care of his health." She opined, and I wholeheartedly agreed.

"Who were the top hero and heroine those days"- She enquired.

Thinking that now I could sell her on my favourite stars from 1970s, I played a rain song filmed on Rajesh Khanna and Mumtaz.

" See, this is Rajesh Khanna, father of Twinkle and father in law of Akshay Kumar. And this is Mumtaz, mother in law of Fardeen Khan."

My daughter watched the video, accompanied by the song sung by Kishore Kumar and Lata. Then she commented- "Papa, India was a poor country those day, was it not? "

" Yes, it was, but how did you know ?"

"See, Fardeen's saas is getting drenched in rain, but she does not change her clothes even once in the song. These days, people change their clothes so many times in a song even when it is not raining. Twinkle's papa is also dancing in the same clothes throughout the song."

"Well, err.. you see..Look.. here is Joy Mukherjee, uncle of Rani Mukherjee..." I exclaimed.
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My experience with direct salesmen

In olden days, we were confronted by salesmen only in the showroom, but these days they have become proactive, and they come to your home/ office as well.

Door to door salesmanship in India was pioneered by vacuum cleaner sellers and water purifier sellers. Then there are carpet sellers who also do their sales pitch by going door to door.

I refuse to entertain them, saying I do not want whatever item they are selling. So that rules out door to door salesmen at my home.

It leaves salesmen who approach me at the office.

Unlike other people, I just cannot make people wait. I respect everyone's time, and that includes even salesmen. So when they want to come see me, I let them in.

It appears that there is some management college in the city ( obviously nothing like IIMs) and they teach their students various skills. And one of the skills is supposed to be direct selling to customers. As practical, they are sent to various offices where they try their newly acquired knowledge of salesmanship.

It is these management students who come trying to sell things.

Here is how they do it.

Two of them approach me. They start their sales pitch- " We all need to have good general knowledge , and we need to know what is going on around us. You must know who Darwin was, you should be aware how many legs an octopus has, who had written Kalidas's Shakuntala, why sky is blue, how computers work, how a locomotive works..."

I,losing patience, state- "That is all right, but what has that got to do with your visit.."

Salespitch continues-" unless you know all these facts, you cannot answer these questions in interviews, you cannot score high marks in exams, you cannot win Rs one crore in KBC.."

I, losing patience again-" OK, I cannot do all that, and you have come to tell me my limitations ?.."

Salesmen--" One can improve one's general knowledge if one has a good book where all these information are presented in an easy to understand manner. Here is this book "Discovery facts and figures". If you buy this book in stores, it will cost you Rs 1500. But our company is committed to spreading general awareness among public. That is why this book is being offered at a concessional rate of only Rs 600."

And they take out the book from their bag with a flourish. It is a book that I have with me for the past 25 years, and in fact I have many such books with me which I purchased in the past when I was an avid book collector.

I tell them that all this salespitch is alright if you are dealing with a college student or someone who actually needs to improve his GK. All these things that they are telling me- "appearing in exams,appearing in interviews, having to know how a computer or a locomotive works" all that is old hat for me. In fact, these days I am in a position to be the examiner,interviewer,manufacturer of a locomotive etc. Moreover, I know all the facts they want me to know. And I add more information to my memory cells than what is available in these books. The stuff contained in this book are meant for school kids. The information that I seek are far too advanced to be available in a book like this.

"Well, then you can take this book for your children, or for any relatives or friends who may use it".

"I think you did not hear me. I said that I already have this book, and in fact I have similar books from many such publications that I purchased when I was a college student, which was 25 years ago." -I explain patiently.

The salesmen are obviously taught that their customers are fools and they need to be explained things very slowly and in a step by step manner. They put that book back into their bag and take out another book "Oxford English dictionary" and start telling me- " Every one needs to have a good vocabulary in English. They need to know the meaning of difficult English words such as superstition, acrimony, stupefied etc.."

"But I already know the meanings of such words and more. And I do not need a dictionary. I have as good a vocabulary as I need. I think you people did not listen carefully to what I said.I do not need to impress people by using English words memorised from a dictionary. One does not learn words from a dictionary. One learns them by reading books"- I explain.

The salesmen do not seem to believe me. Their training and exposure did not include such information. They take out another book. "We all need good careers in life. And one of the best careers is Engineering. But getting into Engineering is not easy. There is tough competition. One needs to have clear fundamentals so that one can clear entrance examinations of Engineering colleges..".

I lose my composure and ask them to get the hell out of there.
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Horizontally mobile

I believe in progress, because it opens up new opportunities. Since I am a supporter of progress and opportunities, I suppose that makes me progressive and opportunist. I wonder why some people take exception to being described as opportunists, when there are people who feel no stigma on being called "backward" and in fact they agitate for inclusion among the ranks of "backwards".

Similarly, a therapist should not mind being called therapist. Problem arises when it becomes "the rapist" due to a typo. But then that is an occupational hazard for a profession where you designate yourself in this way. A librarian too runs the risk of being called a bookie instead of a book keeper. But I have no sympathy for librarians considering how I saw a librarian stocking books on radioactivity on the shelf marked "Radio and TV". I have not seen a bookshelf where books on sussex,middlesex and essex have been put on the shelf marked sexual literature, but it is always a possibility with such bookies, err librarians, don't you think ?

But I am digressing. Where was I ? Yes, I was on to progress and opportunities. And we have certainly seen lots of progress in the fields of telecommunication. The fact that every Tom, Dick and Hari can now afford a mobile phone is nothing short of miraculous. It was just one generation ago that we needed to have a long waiting list if we wanted to have a landline connection. Of course, the technology for mobile phone itself was non existent.

I recall what happened when the mobile phones first arrived in India. It was too expensive, where you had to pay through your nose not only to make a call, but also to receive a call. And what did the people talk? The caller only talked about the fact that he had a mobile phone, and how nice it was to have a mobile phone costing a fortune, and about the pros ( no cons) of having a mobile phone. All this conversation was in a loud enough voice to ensure that everyone knew you had a mobile phone, and felt suitably jealous of you, and yet admired you too, for your prized possession. Some people carried pagers, and many people who did not know the difference between the two, actually thought pagers and mobile phones to be the same.

Mobile phones, which were the size of a brick when they first came up ( and laptop computers were the size of VIP suitcase) soon became smaller and in fact mobile phone ads would advertise this fact as a feature. There was one ad some ten years ago in which a lady ( Kavita Kapoor) is talking sweet nothings and the bearer thinks she is addressing him. When he approches her, he is mortified to see that she gives an order for some refreshments("one black coffee, please"), and her sweet nothings were being talked into a mobile phone that was too small to be visible outside her palm.

I recall the days before mobile phones when I was undergoing training. As a trainee you are obviously supposed to have a diary/ notebook where you would note down whatever you learnt, and then produce this diary as a proof to show what you learnt. Now everyone had notebooks of the size of a tile ( 5" X 7" or so with 250 pages). I had a notebook/ diary which was 2" x 1" with 100 pages, neatly leatherbound. One of the fellow trainee became so impressed with my notebook that he suggested me how to present the notebook for inspection. Keep the diary in the right palm, and shake the hand of the person saying- "Good morning Sir, I am Atul", and then rotate the wrist clockwise 90 degrees, open the palm to reveal the notebook and say "And here is my notebook,Sir".

In fact, that is how secrets were exchanged by spies in old movies. In James Bond movies,secret microfilm would be transferred by the lady spy through her mouth to James Bond's mouth while ostensively kissing him. One can try the idea of exchanging 2" X 1 " diary containing the names of villain's contacts ( like it was in Don) through a handshake even in Bollywood movies. Of course, do not forget to credit me for this idea.

In earlier days of mobile, mobile phones were unaffordable for common people, so only people with deep pockets owned them. Now that even those with holes in their pockets have mobile phones, we have seen the tendency to save even the last paisa. People would give you a missed call and expect that you would ring them back. It is all right if you know the person, but what about strangers giving you a missed call and expecting you to call them back ? What about wrong calls ? They were there on landlines too, but there at least you have no caller ID in most phones, but on mobile phone you can very well see what number you are dialling and what number you are receiving.

On mobile phone I would receive wrong numbers. As I attend the phone, the person would ask- "Kaun (who)?." Well, it is I who should ask this question. The person calling me should know whom he/she is calling. Ringing without checking the number and then checking from me who is it at that number reeks of poor etiquette.

And then there was this wrong number that I was receiving for a long time. But the caller wanted to save call charges too, so she would not allow me to reply and ensured that the phone stopped ringing by the time I reached it. If you are that desperate to talk to me, then atleast make sure that you are not stingy about paying for one call. Fed up, finally I rang back, and what do I hear- "Kaun (who)". What should I have said-"Silly woman, you are repeatedly giving me missed calls, and you are not aware whom you are calling?". Of course, I do not talk like that to anyone. I just told her curtly to check the number she was dialling.

People have time for idle chitchat on phone, but on the other end of the spectrum, there are those cases, when you want to make urgent calls, but the person refuses to receive the call. It is strange that people will not attend calls on official hours, and during unofficial hours, they will tell you- "but now the office is closed. You should have phoned me during working hours.". Technology may have changed and advanced, but the tendency to pass the buck and shirk work remains intact.

You find that people do not attend your calls? I have an idea. Phone them when they are driving a two wheeler or a four wheeler. People who have no time to talk on mobile while in office would readily take out their mobiles and talk while driving. Four wheeler driver will have his mobile in left hand and steering wheel on right hand. And he would not stop by the side. He would continue to drive and talk. And two wheeler guy will contort his head and shoulder in a weird position, with the mobile precariously nestled between the two, the eyes pointing dreamily towards the heaven, and he will have no clue where he is going on his two wheeler. The worst part is, these people are not even aware how unsafe this is. These people do not know/ follow basic driving rules, and the fact that talking on mobile makes a driver more at risk than a drunk driver is not even known to these people. And if there has been any effort to educate them on traffic rules, chances are that the educators themselves are not very well educated in these matters.

There is this saying that a fool and his money are soon parted.Most people would seriously mind being called a fool, but it is an old saying that continues to be proved right. And interestingly enough, the ways to fool people have become more and more sophisticated. It will take many many lengthy posts to explain how people are taken for a ride ( euphemism for being fooled) in day to day life. Here, let me confine myself just to mobile.

Calling on the mobile is the basic use of this device, and you can also use it as a phone book. But there are so many features on a mobile phone. There are so many features in a computer as well, but no one is after you to use all these features. But when it comes to mobile phones, people like service poviders, TV channels, banks, insureres etc want you to make use of all the features that your mobile phone may have. You are repeatedly asked to download the latest ring tones. TV channels with their competitions encourage you to vote for your favourite participants as many times as you want.Even I keep myself updated with cricket scores by SMS.Mind you, all these sevices cost money to you- something like Rs 5 to Rs 8 per SMS or so.These small looking expenses mount up. One individual may not think much of his three figures bills, but there are millions like him/her doing the same, and that results in 9 figures (100s of croresof rupees) revenue for the mobile companies.If anyone does these maths, the mobile service providers have reasons to laugh louder on their way to the bank, all that by taking you for a ride, which you may not have intended to take in the first place.

Making you buy things which you do not need is a standard practice used by salesmen and mobile service providers are no different. The fact that people lose their ability to think independently, thanks to their repeated exposure to TV contributes in a big way. Radio was different, there you had to make some effort to follow the broadcast that exercised your mind. On TV, you do not even have to do so, and the TV channels find millions of sitting ducks, all vulnerable to any kind of addiction that these channels may serve up- cartoons, cricket, soap opera. If you do not realise them as addictions, then chances are, you are addicted. Personally, I admit that I was addicted to cricket, but seeing how BCCI was taking the Indian public for a ride, I am trying to get myself deaddicted from cricket.

I loved finding about all the features of computers and even tweaking any software and hardware features of my computers.But even I cannot keep myself abreast of the advances being made in mobile technology. And honestly, I do not feel that I need to use all these features. For instance, why do I need to use a mobile like a camera, like a radio, or like a MP3 player,to play games, or to watch movies. Using a mobile to listen to music is a waste of your battery power, if you are on a journey and you do not have charging facility.Why not use a dedicated MP3 player instead ? And why watch movies on a puny 2" x 2" screen ? Have a dedicated equipment custom built for that purpose, if you must watch movies or must play games.

Of course, these are my views and my rants. I do not expect others to do and think like me. After all, the mobile companies,TV channels,BCCI, private banks etc need to make profits, don't they ?
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