The business of education

A comment by Alexis on the last post triggered this post. In the last post I described a typical working day anecdote. Small events that sometimes make you laugh. But behind this particular event lies a sad truth that is going unnoticed by the students and parents of today.

When I joined my first job in an IT MNC purely on the merit of my track record as a copywriter, there was a rush of girls in my family in Kerala to do English, Journalism and Mass Communication. Everyone thought that my present professional status was due to me taking English. Thank god for some frantic phone calls from me, which made them change their minds.

What a lot of people didn’t realize was that I have years of reading behind me that embellished my English. I am sure most people who write English have been through the same evolution. Copywriting, Content Writing, Creative Writing like Fine Arts is a talent-based profession. And the people who are now working in the communications arena are people who can pull it off. I mean make boring technical manuals into attractive and readable brochures, make website content appealing so that a potential customer goes through it and enquires about your services leading to sales. But there are thousands of students pursuing a course in Mass Communications, English and Journalism without even knowing what it entails.

Consider this. The other day a Journalism trainee was working with the Corporate Communications team as part of her College Project. The poor girl had never read any notable authors, nor could she write a line of English properly. She was near to tears when told to make a simple bulleted ppt presentation on a PR exercise done by the Corp Comm team. Over coffee I chatted up with her. She is graduating next year from a high profile private university. What she told me appalled me. She, like many others were ‘counseled’ about the scope of taking up a ‘Journalism Course’ without even checking if this girl could write English well. She is one among the 90 odd students doing this course paying almost 2 lakhs.

Another incident: My friend runs a small design studio. When she advertised for Graphic Designers, a lot of freshers turned up. All of them had been through the Multimedia course and knew the mandatory Photoshop, Corel Draw, Dream weaver etc. As I went through the process of testing them I stumbled upon another startling fact. None of these guys were artists. All of them were regular graduates who were attracted by the thought of becoming hotshot 'Art Directors’. What they didn’t realize was that Graphic Design is for artists and these softwares is just another means to transfer their art onto the computer monitor. What’s the point of giving a paintbrush in the hand of a guy who does not even know how to draw??? These poor kids knew how to operate the software but did not know how to ‘create works of art’ with it. And they too had shelled out 50 K apiece for their courses. In companies like mine only Chithra Kala Parishad or Art graduates with a Multimedia Course are allowed in as Graphic Designers. Which leaves scores of ‘Multimedia’ students out in the cold.


Students in the non-technical streams need thorough counseling so that they take up courses suited to their skills. Regular colleges don’t bother and the private universities and institutes entice students with visions of promising careers only to fill their coffers. The result, a large amount of money wasted in useless courses. These Institutes promise placement too, which is a clever arrangement with certain companies. For example students who pass out Travel and Ticketing courses are placed with small travel agencies for a pittance. The institutes have thus honored their promise, the travel agency gets cheap labor and the student soon quits, due to the abysmally low pay.

Once my Dad remarked sarcastically looking at the mushrooming institutes, that if car washing was a paying job then we would have an “ABC Car Washing Institute, 100% placements guaranteed!”

Vocational courses are big bucks now. And no one is bothered whether you have the vocation or inclination for the course.

Proof checking?

Today I got a mail from the new trainee in our team, a bright girl, fresh out of college : It said…

Hi,

Just wanted to let you know that I have completed proff chekcing of the mailers. See attachmnet.

Regards,

PM

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

A quiver of quills

I was tagged by Jina thought I mistakenly thought it was Quills after reading her tag. Apologies Jina :) Wot to do, am growing old :p So here my tag dedicated to both of you lovely ladies :)

I am a very confident person and care two hoots about what others think except my family

I said be happy with what you have yet do not stop giving your best to everything in life

I want a world devoid of hunger

I wish that every child and dog have a loving home

I miss childhood

I hear “song sung blue”

I wonder and hence I Google

I regret nothing…yet!

I am deeply affected by human tragedies like the Tsunami, I lashed out at God and asked “Why?!” I lost a little faith when it happened. Then regained it back all over again.

I dance very well

I sing all the time

I cry at the drop of the hat. I am an expressive and demonstrative person

I am not a person who beats around the bush, am brutally frank

I write for my bread and butter and clothes, shoes, cosmetics and perfumes… :p

I confuse between Kannada and Tamil. I tend to use both while talking.

I need to have my family around.

I should stop being so friendly and open with people I meet for the first time.

I finish what I have started ...never leave things undone

I pass this on to anyone who wants to take it up.

Down under to Vailankanni and Point Calimere

Every year we go to Vailankanni in January. It is a sort of a New Year pilgrimage. My parents came here soon after they were married and then with each one of us, as we arrived. Since then we have been coming here every January. I must confess that I am addicted to this place. Apart from the visit to the shrine this place is an amazing world in itself. The whole family looks forward to the trip.

Since the beginning we have always driven down to Vailankanni as having your own transport is ideal for a family like ours, that likes to explore. The drive till Trichy is uneventful. From Trichy the sights change suddenly, as banana plantations line the road on either side of the way. Somewhere along the way, the river Kaveri joins you. It flows calmly and steadily along the way and the sight is beautiful. We always take the bypass from Trichy, which means narrow well-maintained roads via green paddy fields and more banana plantations. After you reach Thanjavur, the rice bowl of India, you enter a sea of green paddy field broken only by the narrow road. The drive is sheer pleasure and you feel you are going back in time as you rapidly leave civilization and enter a very sparsely populated agrarian region.

As you near Vailankanni, the geography changes. You can smell the sea air and the earth looks like a lumpy green blanket dotted with lots of small ponds. The bird population too changes and you see a lot of fish eating birds. The land is empty save for a few cattle grazing here and there.

There is a variety of accommodation here, our favorite is the MGM Resort bounded on three sides with green paddy fields and the main road in the front. The view from the room is breathtaking. The IT boom can be seen here too. Air Conditioned busloads of families from Kerala coming in by the hour. Last year a big family joined us as we sat with our drinks on the lawns and it became a big pot luck party. They were a group of techies from Bangalore who had joined together and taken their families from Kerala and come here. And you know when Achayans get together what happens!! Some serious vellam adi :p

An hour of driving towards the south of Vailankanni takes you to Kodikkarai also known as Point Calimere. It is bounded by Bay of Bengal on the East and Palk Straits on the South. The wildlife sanctuary here is home to bluebuck, spotted deer, wild boar, semi wild ponies, bonnet macaque, water birds like flamingoes, ibises, herons and spoonbills. Also some of the endangered reptiles like olive ridley turtles, starred tortoise, vipers and marsh crocodiles. If you go around the evening, you can see the birds returning to the beaches and scrub forests to their nests. A truly wonderful sight, and they are quite tolerant of humans.

The drive itself is a delight. You drive through a forest road with an occasional village in between and on the way you suddenly come across clearings, with the sea on both sides. The sudden appearance of the sea takes your breath away. There is intense security checking here due to the proximity to Sri Lanka. You also get to see a rock with Rama's footprint, as he is suposed to have traversed these forests during his Vanvaas.

What strikes you about this place is the silence...save for bird calls and the sounds of the sea. We stopped near a scrub forest to photograph some birds and saw an old man patiently catching small fishes for dinner in the backwater. He caught about five fishes and then folded his net and walked away. My brother who was talking to him gave him ten rupees, which he declined politely. With a straight face he told my brother that if accepts the ten rupee he will drink and hence reach home late with the fish and then his wife would beat him up :)) If you know Tamil, then you get to enjoy yet another aspect of this land…Tamil humor :)

All around you see birds, that you get to see only on Animal Planet or Discovery Channel… and silence, blessed silence all around. You feel like you are the only people on the planet.

We take the hour-long drive to Point Calimere every year. The year of the Tsunami devastation was the only time we didn’t visit Vailankanni as it was not advisable due to the outbreak of diseases. Somehow down the years, going to Vailankanni has become more than a pilgrimage. It is a time of family bonding and having our otherwise busy Dad all to ourselves. Nothing like walking with him on the beaches of Kodikkarai, listening to his gyan or just being one with Nature’s silence.

(Ideal time of year to visit:December and January)

The Sivakasi of the West

I have heard a lot of derisive comments about India and the Indian IT scene by relations who are settled in the US and are US citizens. They scoff the so-called development saying that we are the sweatshop of the West. Do I smell a hint of uneasiness or are they aware of another reality, something that I don’t see?

We have foreigners arriving at our office everyday. They are picked up from the hotel by the taxis and bought to the office. Some are our US counterparts, some are customers, some are stake holders. Sometimes the Taxis come via a circuitous route to avoid the traffic on the main road. This means going via lower class neighborhoods. Over the years I see less exclamations on the level of poverty and a more accepting attitude. As soon as they land, they are at the office and work systematically to finish their business so that they can go back as soon as possible. There is visible relief at the thought of going back. I don’t blame them. The level of pollution in the air is exhausting and the dust and grime outside can sap even the hardiest among these people. They plow through each day with methodical efficiency so that they can pack as much work as possible during their stay and go back in time. They side step dirt, overflowing sewage lines and crap like practiced veterans, ignore the filth and squalor stolidly and go back the same way they came.

Which is what makes me wonder if we really are a sweat shop of the west. I am not talking of the IT companies and the scores of people working there. I am talking of the whole set up. The rush of investments to Bangalore inspite of poor infrastructure and the resultant overcrowding, lack of basic amenities. Bangalore now reminds me of the Sivakasi, where maximum work would be extracted out of cheap labor with minimum resources. While we enjoy the firecrackers and watch the sparklers as it lights our nights with a thousand stars, we blissfully ignore the filth and squalor in which it was made. And the little children working there and their parents thank their lucky stars for the blessing of a job.

Yes, it definitely reminds me of Bangalore.

Happy Independence Day to all who stumble here...

Peddler of woes

There seems to be a war declared on humanity, by terrorists. The recent uncovering of the mass annihilation plot doesn’t surprise or shock me. What do you expect when you arm and breed terrorists for your selfish purposes and even promote terrorism in some places to meet your economic agenda? And then they express surprise when the snake they have kept as a pet bites them!!

During the US invasion of Afghanistan, the TV footage showed the terrorists handling some very sophisticated regulation army weaponry. How did arms like these and that too in such huge quantities reach these people? There is obviously a munitions industry that makes and supplies arms. Why aren’t they regulated? Why aren’t the raw material used to make arms and ammunitions regulated? If a strict worldwide embargo on Nuclear weapons can be positioned successfully, then why not for munitions?

Instead of the exhausting and costly task of using the army to fight terror why, can’t the countries of the world get together and lay down strict regulations for arms production and sales? Guess that would shut down a lot of arms factories and be a big blow to the western economies.

If an alien were observing us from up above, he would perhaps be befuddled by the species called ‘Humans’. Always fighting, killing, scheming and aggressive over territory, water, religion and just about everything. We seem to thrive on conflicts.

From what I see, it is possible to stop escalating terror if the Western democracies have the political will to do so. You can’t peddle peace and arms in the same shop.

Untouchable

Last week I had to go to Chennai for a day. I took the morning flight and got back by the evening flight. On the way back, the flight was crowded. I had an aisle seat, seated next to me was an elderly lady and on the window seat, sat a foreigner, a white gentleman in saffron robes. As soon as we had boarded the flight and taken our seats, the white man called for the hostess and told her in no uncertain terms that he could not sit next to a woman as it was against his dharma. He had apparently checked in late and couldn’t get a seat of his choice. He asked the hostess to either find a place for him elsewhere or shift the lady to another seat. The helpless girl looked around and could not find any seat for him nor was she able to convince any male passenger to change the seat …maybe because it was a middle seat.

The white man became rather rude and told the hostess that he could not possibly sit next to the woman. I found his behavior appalling. Then he turned to the lady in the middle seat and told her that she should respect his ‘dharma’ and find a seat elsewhere. He went on to admonish her that as an Indian she should respect his ‘brahmacharya’. The poor lady was perplexed, as she was clearly not a regular traveler and got up. By this time I had had enough and told her to sit down. But she was clearly intimidated by the white man who was looking at her like she was a worm. So I told her to sit on my seat and with vicarious glee, I took the middle seat. The sight of the young and hence more ‘sinful’ woman moving next to him incensed the white man, but my don’t-mess-with-me attitude was very evident and he refrained from making anymore noises. I had planned to ‘accidentally’ touch him if he didn’t behave himself. I put my hand on the arm rest deliberately and he shrank away from me as though I was an untouchable. He remained in that position till we landed, cowering against the window like a trapped animal. He even refused the food given because it was offered by a woman and not prepared according to his strict vegetarian beliefs. Throughout the flight he kept his gaze stolidly out of the window.

When the plane landed and came to a halt, he remained seated and waited for people to disembark lest he touch a woman while disembarking I guess. He finally got up, took his cloth bag and walked out from the front exit, ignoring the hostess who stood smiling and wishing people on the way out.

I have met some of the strangest people while flying, but this guy takes the cake er …eggless cake.

Not an ad mad world anymore

This week we had advertising agencies ‘pitching’ for our product launch in some markets abroad.

Going through each presentation, I noticed something striking. Most of the creatives presented were similar. The thoughts were similar and the approach was similar. Not a single agency impressed me. There was not a single out-of-the-box kind of thinking anywhere. I cursed the time I had wasted sitting through the patronizing presentations, the loud laughs at the weakest joke that my boss made and the ingratiating attitude to please.

Nothing much has changed I realized. People still trying to pass off shitty work with well worn platitudes and hyped up PPT presentations. In fact the hype is so arranged that when they reach the part where they show the creatives or the ads, you feel so let down…..like when you open those promisingly puffy Lays packet and find two and a half pieces of potato wafers. In plain words, crap packaged in glitzy materials.

Where have all the copywriters gone? In my team of seven, all seven of us are ex-copywriters. Someone rightly called the drain of advertising talent to IT companies as, ‘talent hemorrhage’.

At present there is no panacea to stop the hemorrhage. Hope the morrow brings better news for the Indian advertising scene. Till then the 'talent hemorrhage' will go on unabated.

The ‘returning’ Malayalees

There is something I have noticed amongst us Malayalees, right from the time I was as a kid. Something strange, that perplexed me very much. On our regular visits to Kerala, we would inevitably bump into a lot of NRK’s who were also down for the vacations like us. Whether it was the usual meeting at Church, weddings or visits, what struck me as strange was a refrain that was said very eagerly the moment you met an NRK. And this was “We are going back in 10 days” or a week or some number. This was perhaps the most common thing you heard from these people. It was said very eagerly, almost as if they were reassuring themselves. The reason it perplexed me was because I knew that all NRKs looked forward to visiting Kerala.

Perhaps the visit sparks off memories of realities that were theirs not so long ago and the thought of returning back to their place of employment is kind of reassuring. I don’t know. I found an interesting article today in
The Hindu. It answers my query somewhat. Any other plausible explanations?

Teachers

Today I saw a couple of lovelorn earthworms, wriggling together in the throes of passion near the kitchen. I picked them up with a dustpan and placed them gently in one of the pots to carry on with whatever they were doing. Hope they give me lots of babies for my pots. Earthworms are good for the earth as they aerate the soil. My maid always looks at me oddly when I do things like these.

It was much later that it struck me that what I had done was a direct result of a lesson taken by a science teacher long time ago in school. I guess all of us have gone through the ‘earthworms are farmers friends’ kind of lessons. What is amazing is that these lessons taught to us during our school days impact our lives even today. And Teachers made a big impression on most of us.

I remember being told regularly to brush my teeth in the night, without much effect. But the day teacher started a lesson on dental hygiene I was more regular at brushing my teeth than the clock. And then lessons in Nutrition...and I finally started taking an interest in vegetables. The lesson on intestinal worms and how they are contracted, made me rabidly fanatic about washing my hands. I still do it religiously. Taking baths daily, combing hair, eating right et al…everything was influenced by lessons and teachers than by a million lectures from my Mom. Such is the power that teachers wield.

I was lucky to have some really good teachers in school. Many of them were unmarried spinsters, totally dedicated to their profession. Many are still serving, the last of the genuine teachers left in the city.

Teaching is a Penguin act. Teachers have to understand complex subjects and regurgitate it so that students understand it. Therefore it is imperative that people with the right aptitude and attitude for the profession be selected for the post. Children emulate teachers sub consciously. Good teachers make for good students and I am not talking about the subject knowledge of the teacher but other subtle things, like the way the teacher interacts with students, the respect or dignity with which he/she handless his/her students.

And lessons in matters like respect for girls etc in school, will go a long way in shaping the way young boys look at girls and women in general. Teaching and school curriculum is a huge opportunity for the government to bring in radical social changes, but how many governments are using that opportunity? Not many I am afraid.

Peddling for fools

What is happening with Radio advertising these days? Consider this IDBI ad I heard today.

Voice over (VO): Sir, what number do you like?
Punjabi Accent: No 9
VO: Sir, what number do you like?
Tamil accent: Aiyyo No 9
And more crap…and finally
VO: Everybody likes No 9 because now IDBI gives you loans at 9% interest


Consider another gem:

Woman 1: XYZ bought jewelry from Ddamas for her wedding
Woman 2: Really??? And where are they going for the honeymoon?
Woman 1: Her hubby wants to go to Timbuktoo but XYZ wants to go to D’damas
*Indulgent laughter from the ladies*

And they call it ‘jewelery for the living”??? It’s more like jewelery for the (brain)dead.

Do these ad makers or the marketing team that approves of these ads really think that we the listeners are that dumb? God, this is an insult to my intelligence and makes me mad. In one fell swoop you are condemning all Bangaloreans as morons.

This is the crap that I get to hear in the car everyday to the office. Nowadays we preempt the ad with our own words and giggle our way to work. Quite a change from the sleepy silence that used to hang like a blanket inside the car. In the process we have all become good friends and have forged a common bond as the car pool fraternity.

Now if that was the intention of the ad maker in the first place then he has succeeded. These atrocious jingles, though an absolute personal attack on your intelligence, grab your attention due to its ludicrousness.

But if I am going to apply for a loan in the near future then I will make sure that I give IDBI the skip, because I don’t want their marketing team to think that the ad has bought them revenues and go ahead and make more such brainsick jingles. And neither am I shopping at D’damas, because they have insulted me and the entire female populace of Bangalore.

Musing

"I wan't afraid of being born, then why should I be afraid of death."

This is what I told a friend when she asked me if I was afraid of death. Come to think of it both are the same isn't it? A journey into the unknown. Now that I am here, let me make the best of it. Dunno if I will get to have a blast after death.

Life and times of an Indian kid

Today we had some visitors over. It was a couple with two kids, a boy and a girl. The children were well behaved. My Dad doesn’t like well behaved children. It’s not like he likes brats, but he hates the regimented children who sit like trained circus animals, answering your questions perfectly. Apart from the mandatory wishing of elders he never believed in strictly controlling our every move. He would rather leave us at home than taking us along when my parents went visiting because he knew that sitting down while the adults made polite conversation was torture for us. My Mom didn’t agree, because she thought we should learn to move around in society. But my Dad was in no mood to make us trained animals. That’s his viewpoint and I know many people will disagree to it. But I am thankful that unlike my friends we didn’t have to go through the painful process of ‘visiting’ people. And for all purposes we have turned out alright.

I cannot but help notice the strange relationship of parents and kids because there are a fair number of young parents in my family circle and among my colleagues and neighborhood etc. From my observations of parents and kids I have noticed something.

From the time the child starts walking he is taught to sit down quietly, behave himself viz do things according to the approval of his parents and not give them to much hassle, do home work, sleep early etc. It is a military barracks kind of life style for most kids nowadays. Parents seem to go through the motions of parenting and kids are trained in such a way that they don’t hassle their parents too much. You rarely see parents and kids sitting together for a game of Scrabble or cards, or parents getting involved in their child’s hobbies or interests. In fact these are discouraged or encouraged with an eye to a career in the same field like say music. How many Dads play football or cricket with their children on a weekend? ( Mine did in case you are wondering) How many families talk?

Most Indian parents I notice, are like caretakers of their kids. Children are herded and directed like sheep in a strictly controlled environment of school, homework, TV sleep routine till they get a job. After which the parents, feeling all accomplished take a break from parenting. And in this routine the child’s individuality, hopes, ambitions, desires etc is mercilessly brushed aside and he becomes just another person joining the workforce, earning a living, paying his house EMI marrying, having kids and restarting the parent/kid cycle.

Just another day

Today I read a thought povoking post by Quills at Save Kerala and the subject is related to something I was planning to write for a long time. Then I decided against it because I thought it was futile to write more about something that all of us read about regularly and have even begun to ignore as it one of those subjects like, outdated laws that does not have an immediate remedy.

But after reading Quills article I thought I will write about an ordinary day in the life of an Indian girl…something that most guys in this country don’t know about.

From the time we girls grow up and start looking like women, life becomes hell. Till then life is carefree, at least for most of us. We learn very early in life that ‘Men” are bad. We are warned about ‘Men” and we learn by experience that these warnings had better be taken very seriously. From walking on the road to shopping, is not a routine activity for us as it is for guys. From the time we step out of the house, our life is fraught with danger. We have to bear with men trying to brush against us, or touch us or follow us, making lewd suggestions, cars slowing and keeping pace with us to have a good look etc. We learn to IGNORE these with practiced efficiency from a young age. We learn to steel ourselves and walk by with our eyes away whenever we pass a group of guys. We learn never to walk alone. Which is why you see girls walking in pairs or in groups. The conditioning begins very early.

Our mothers are on tenterhook from the time we are born to the day we get married. They cannot leave us in the house alone and we rarely move around after dark alone. From birth to grey hair we live on high alert. There are so many unwritten rules and regulations that we have to follow to see that we do not become yet another statistic.

One of my memories from college, is keeping books and files or bags in front of us as a shield and walking, to avoid the painful hits on the chest by men coming from the opposite direction. And this happens daily if you are not alert and it is a painful and humiliating experience. And these are decent looking guys, not the illiterates who are better behaved than their ‘educated’ brethren.

I nearly get run over when I walk on the road by Auto fellows, bikers and car ridden men trying to get their thrill by driving as close as possible to me. And this happens “daily”. And this is not because I am a Miss India look-alike, but because I am a girl. We learn to walk on the footpath because on the road we are open game for bikers to brush past. Our reflexes are razor sharp while driving because of bikers who try to scare us by suddenly coming in front of us making us to brake hard or swerve wildly. And this too happens daily.

When I look at the elderly ladies walking on the road I feel so much envy and I long for that day when I too will walk like them without being brushed against, stared and whistled at. And that is not happening for a long time I know.
For the girls working in IT companies, strict laws against sexual harassment keep us safe. For the girls working in other places, life and career progression is very difficult unless they have the dexterity of a Matador to avoid male colleague’s predatorial designs.

And all this happens in a free, democratic country famed for its family values. This happens in a country where a woman is the honor of the family.

And this my dear gentlemen of this country, is just another ordinary day in us girls lives.

For the women of India who make up 50% of the population, democracy does not exist.

The needle in the haystack

I was watching the Guinness Book of World Record yesterday and one of the amazing feats that they showed was the first successful Craniopagus separation of conjoined twins Vilija and Vatalija Tamulevicius. The procedure was carried out by a Russian surgeon who specializes in brain surgery and later, the reconstruction of their skulls was done by an American surgeon. As I was watching this programme I could not help but feel tremendous admiration for these doctors. They are the Robin Hood and Gulliver’s of modern day world. They fight intricate battles that require skill, presence of mind and oodles of experience.

And then it dawned on me suddenly that had these guys been Indians, they would not stand a chance getting a medical seat let alone acquire the level of expertise they have now. Their skills and aptitude for the profession would be ignored. They would have to buy that seat or be a Reserved Caste person or be lucky to clear the entrance exam from among the multitudes. Their talents would be lost to the world because being a doctor is just another job in this country. And because it is just another job, just about everybody wants to be a doctor. And in this melee many people genuinely interested in being doctors and treating people are lost.

This is not a rant about Reservation. If there are people in the reserved category who can make good doctors then more power to them. I for one frankly don’t care whether my doc is high caste or low caste. When it comes to my health I want someone who knows what he is doing and is sincere about helping me. But let’s face it, when I go to a doctor today all I see is an individual who was lucky to get that seat while the doctor regards me as just another consultation fee and if he is business savvy then more money by sending patients to cooperative labs and hospitals for unnecessary medical tests and caesareans. It is an unhealthy vicious cycle.

How many of us will here go to an unknown doctor without enquiring about him or being referred by someone who trusts him? He is an MBBS and is registered under IMA. Then why do we hesitate? Because we are not certain about the doctor and his intentions or his antecedents. Because have heard horror stories of doctors who overcharge or kill or maim their patients. We do not trust a doctor implicitly. Ironic isn’t it that a man who has cleared his exams and is a certified doctor has to pass another test i.e. the trust of the people? If the selection of medical students was fair and based on merit and aptitude then all of us would blindly trust anyone with a Dr. prefixed to his name.


The fact that I am sitting here in good health and typing this post hoodwinking my boss into thinking that I am writing a brochure is because there is a Doctor Mathew who makes sure of that. A man who is perhaps more qualified to be a doctor than most of his brethren because ‘medicine’ is not a mere profession for him and the crowd that throng his clinic is testimony to that fact. His consultation charge was only Rs 10/- till protests by patients like me made him revise it rather apologetically to Rs. 20/- for people who can pay. For the poor he gives free medicine or charges a token fee. The result? He gets a plethora of patients with all kinds of problems that an upmarket physician will never see in his lifetime gaining him experience and expertise far beyond what most doctors will get in their entire lifetimes.

Another doctor nearby, sits swatting flies because he charges Rs 50 for consultation alone because of the word MD after his name. Guess who makes more money? Guess who takes his profession as a calling and who takes it as a mere money spinner?

Ask those doctors joining Call Centers by the drove where they failed. They will give you many reasons but if they were to only act as doctors and not business men by taking a genuine interest in their patients and lowering their consultation fees, maybe, just maybe they could have survived as GP’s. But most of these gentlemen are in a hurry to make money and end up frustrated when that doesn’t happen. Today doctors who have climbed down their high horses and charge lower consultation fees are doing well. Because there are patients out there, enough for every doctor to make a decent living that is if they are willing to be satisfied with a decent living.

But then you cannot blame them entirely can you? He joined this profession because it was a job and not because medicine excited him or the thought of alleviating people’s suffering moved him.

Counting my blessings

“Women have been the bane of my professional life and men of my personal life”
SP

This eloquent sentence was uttered by my friend SP as we sat talking about nothing in particular.

What she meant was that she had hell with women bosses in her professional life and some really mean men in her personal life like her father and husband.

SP always speaks from the heart, as you can see from that quote above and nurtured that habit in me when I, as a rather wet behind the ears trainee copywriter was placed under her charge. SP was my Creative Director and mentor and the most beautiful person at heart I have ever met. Within a month of joining the agency she removed the ‘trainee’ tag and made me a regular Copywriter, even though I would drop into the agency only on Saturdays. She is an amazingly talented lady and now serves in a ‘Communications’ post in an IT company like most ex copywriters. Her exit from the advertising scene is a huge loss for the ad world, a world which is not even aware of it, or if they are aware, they don’t care. We became the best of friends despite the difference in our age. The friendship continues to this day and it is something that I never forget to thank God for.

SP was the force behind ‘Poomanam’. She is the one who pushed me into blogging. She would watch me goofing around in the agency, making caricatures of ads and people in our weekly newsletter and would tell me, “You must blog”. When I asked her why, she would say “A blog is the perfect medium for you. You are spontaneous and do not follow any fixed pattern in anything …you do your own thing and blogging will give you the freedom to write without censure that you crave so much. So for a person like you a blog is the perfect medium.”

In fact she suggested “freespirit’ as a name for my bog, which I ‘characteristically’ turned down. She was not surprised! :p

When I finally made my blog under the name ‘Poomanam’, she said dryly ‘ I don’t think even God could have guessed it!”

She monitors every single post of mine and gives her comments quickly and mercilessly, but with a clause… that I don’t react to criticism or praise. In my profession where writing dry marketing collaterals can sap even the most gifted individual, blogging has recharged me and kept the creative part in me alive. I may not be the best, I may be the worst, but I can proudly say today that I have always written for myself.


I realize that over the years, I have adopted her as my elder sister and like close biological siblings I can trust her blindly. She is Gods compensation for not giving me a sister. I have always admired the bond between my mom and her sisters. They are always there for each other through thick and thin and I realize that I would never have that because I don’t have a sister. The bond between sisters is very unique.

SP is also the only person besides my elder brother who can give me a ticking off when I do something that may not be potentially right. Between the two of them they have managed to give me enough freedom to do what I like, reserving the right to intervene when they think fit. And it is these two people, whose judgment I trust implicitly.

Today I am counting my blessings and SP I am sure you were my sister in my last birth, because I cannot think of plausible explanation for the kind of relationship we have.

Thank you!

Prepared with love

Angel Doc tagged me. I am supposed to list ten dishes that I miss from my moms cooking. However since I live with my parents I will list ten things that is my favorite amongst her preparations.

My Mom is a workaholic. She loves to putter around the house and will be doing something even when she is watching TV …like cleaning garlic, or skinning baby onions or knitting/embroidery. You will never see her idle for one minute. She is the first to get up in the morning and last to sleep in the house. She has enormous amount of energy and spends all that energy into looking after the house and cooking for us. She has an envious collection of Cookery Books many of them sent by one of her sister abroad, besides the Tarla Dalals, Thangam Philips, Karen Anands etc.

I think I get the stubborn streak to master stuff from her. She doesn’t mind walking into restaurant kitchens and asking for recipes and would attend every single cookery course in town when were little kids. And then she would try out what she had learnt at home. You can call her a Jack of all cuisines, master of some :)

However it is her naadan cuisine that I like best, because she makes it the traditional way. She still uses the grinding stone (the maid does the grinding though) and she cooks everything from scratch. This means dry roasting the Coriander Seeds and Chillies etc. and then grinding it to a fine paste on the grinding stone.

So some of the stuff she makes that I love are…

Kerala Egg Curry

This is made with coconut milk and the main flavoring is Aniseeds. I like it with lots of potatoes. As a kid I was a fussy eater with no appetite, but this curry would somehow stimulate an appetite in me :) It still remains my all time favorite with rice. This doubles up as an accompaniment for Appams too.

Payasam

She will sit for hours stirring the third extract of coconut milk, then the second and then the first, the traditional way to make the most delicious prathaman. Whether it is pal payasam or prathaman, she makes it just perfect.




Kuzhalappam

This is another back breaking thing to make if you are doing it the traditional way. Rice is soaked, powdered and roasted and flavored with garlic and coconut and rolled out into discs which are folded into a cylinder and deep fried to make a thin and very crispy savory snack. Yum!!

Fish Curry


The traditional Kerala fish curry with coconut milk and kudampulli. No matter how much I try, it never comes out the way she makes it.





Jackfruit and Tapioca

She makes the most wonderful jackfruit and tapioca preparation which is a main course that you eat with her yummy Fish Curry or Kerala style Beef Curry in coconut milk. *drool*





Vattayappam
Mom uses tender coconut for this melt in the mouth cottony delicacy. And she makes it with both Jaggery and Sugar as my brothers like it with sugar while me and Dad prefer the traditional jaggery sweetening. For Maundy Thursday she makes these vattayappams with a Cross, cut out of the Palm that is distributed on Palm Sunday. Dad cuts the appam after the Maundy Thursday service and it is eaten with the traditional Pesaha Paalu. This denotes the bread and wine that Jesus shared with his disciples. This tradition is enacted in all mallu Catholic homes as a re enactment of the Last Supper.

Christmas Cake
She is an expert in making Xmas cake. I do the honor of making the wine every January so that it is ready by December. The dried fruits for the cake are bought in October and we all help to cut the dried fruits, which is then kept in a plastic container with a bottle of rum poured over. By first week of December it would be ready to be added to the Cake. The cake would be traditionally made in the first week of December, as it crumbles when cut soon after baking. After Christmas Mass, the cake would be cut and then only do we open the Christmas presents. It takes oodles of will power to keep off the cake till then. But then Mom cheated and made a small one for us to have before Christmas day :) This cake stays forever and ever if prepared hygienically. Every bite is sinfully rich loaded with raisins, figs, dates and other goodies soaked in rum.

Tandoori Chicken
I am not very partial to baked goodies so I will bypass the Cakes and Bakes and go into the meatier section of this tag :) My mom marinates the meats for our barbecues and the marinade is the best I have tasted. Her Tandoori Malai chicken is world famous in our house.



Chicken Biryani

My Moms good friend, a Mangalorean Muslim lady taught her to make Biryani. And my Mom makes it really well. It is the typical Bangalore Biryani and not the Hyderabad type where rice and meat is layered and cooked. The Bangalore Biryani has a strong taste of garlic and the ingredients are cooked together. Delicious with Raita.




Appam and Stew

My Mom makes the softest Appams. She makes it the traditional way, i.e with Kallu which is freely available in Bangalore. If the Kallu is not available then she uses Bakers Yeast and never dried yeast. Since we are a big family, Appam making is a collective effort. A four burner stove and four Appam chatis makes sure that no one has to wait. I get mine with an egg on top :)



All this is making me hungry, so let me tag a few people to do this mouthwatering tag before I go in for dinner.

I tag Mind Curry, Ganja Turtle, Aashik, Dhanush, Pophabhi, Jiby and Mathew

You dont have to post pictrures guys, just a mouthwatering description will do. Heck...you just have to describe, we will do the mouthwatering :)) :)

Little somethings about myself :)

I took up this rather interesting Tag from Aashik.

1. How tall are you?

5' 6"
2. Do you own a gun?

Does a water gun count?

3. Rehab? Counseling?

Yes please, I need rehab and counseling for "overwork" :(

4. Have you ever killed an animal?

No

5. Are you Irish?

I can be anything you want me to be baby ;)

6. What do you think of hot dogs?

Yummy with my additional garnishings

7. What's your favorite Christmas song?

O Holy Night

8. What is your favorite smell?

Mangoes and Jackfruit :)

9. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?

Tea

10. Do you do push ups?

Yes... I push myself up from bed every morning :p

11. Have you ever done ecstasy?

The drug: No... but the feeling I have experienced many times ...like when I get my Salary :)

12. Have you been shot?

With a camera... many times

13. Have you ever been hospitalized?

Yeah

14. Do you like pain killers?

Yes, when I am in pain :p

15. What is your secret weapon to lure in your preferred sex?

It won't be a secret if I reveal it would it? ;)

16. Do you own a knife?

Plenty

17. Do you have A.D.D?

If it is Attention Deficit Disorder..then my teachers would say “Yes!!!”

18. Do you love the pain a tattoo brings?

I don’t have one and am not gonna get one. The pain my mom would bring me would be far more excruciating than the pain of the needle brrrr

19. Name Five Drinks You Regularly Drink:

Water. Tea. ,Coffee., Musambi Juice, Milk, Lassi

20. What's In Your CD Player?

Yanni

21. Who is your best friend?

Aiyyo!!! You want me to get lynched?

22. What's Under Your Bed?

My doggies, till I am asleep, then they get on the bed and push me under :(

23. Current Hair?

I am having a bad hair day grrrrrrrrr

24. What are you wearing?

Jeans and Tees, today is Friday yipeeee!!!!

25. Current worry?

I have several deadlines today, Sales Newsletters, Customer Newsletters, Internal Newsletter, Dealer Newsletter... shall I go on? *bawl*

26. Current Love?

My neighbors Labrador puppy

27. Current Hate?

The monsters who blew up the Mumbai trains!!

28. Favorite Place To Be?

Home!

29. Least favorite place to Be?

On the road when it is raining.

30. If You Could Play an Instrument, what would it be?

Violin

31. Favorite Colors?

Blue, Green and anything according to my mood

32. Person From Your Past You Wish You Could be with Right Now?

Sunitha, my best friend and my Grandpa

33. Where Would You Like To Go?

Home, wish I could stay at home today.

34. Where do you want to live?

At home now, later near my parents.

35. Favorite food?

Anything Mom makes, plus Italian, Chinese and Salads

36. Color of most clothes you own?

Black, Browns, Reds etc

37. Number of pillows you sleep with?

Two

38. What do you wear when you go to sleep?

Shorts and Tees in summer and Pajama set other wise.

39. What were you doing 10 years ago?

Bunking classes and having loads of fun!!!

40. What do you think you'll be doing in 10 years?

Probably working full time in my Dad’s business.

41. Are you paranoid?

In certain matters...yes

42. First piercing/tattoo?

At age 8 months I think. Got my ears pierced.

43. Last person you yelled at?

My doggy for rushing in and out of the room, and getting entangled in the computer wires.

44. Latest crush?

Crushed some peppers today :p

45. Last thing you ate?

Breakfast

46. If you could be a pirate, would you?

Oh yes!!!

47. Do you have an Ipod?

Yeah!

49. What's in your pockets right now?

Nothing...pants too tight :p

50. What color are your bedroom walls?

Shell pink

51. Last thing that made you laugh?

A sarcastic remark on Achumama by my Dad

52. Any pets now?

Three dogs

53. Inny or an outty?

Dunno what this means.

54. Do you have any piercing?

Ears

55. If you were a crayon what color would you be?

Pink

56. Have you ever won any awards?

Yes

57. How many TV's do you have in your house?

Four

58. Have you ever sprained/broken/fractured a bone or gotten stitches?

Broke my hand once.

59. If you could live next door to any one person of your choosing, who'd it be?

My relations in Kerala. I want them closer.

60. If you could have any one wish granted, what would it be?

That all terrorists blow themselves up with the explosives they are carrying

61. If you could pick one person to make out with who would it be?

Someone I love

62. What do you think of the person who posted this before you?

He is my blogpal whom I harass from time to time on Google chat :)

63. Your Screen Name?

Silverine

64. What's your middle Name?

Teresa

( anybody who laughs at No. 64 will meet with a gory end I PROMISE grrrr)

:)

Home is where the heart is...

Down the street from where I live, live an old couple. Mr and Mrs George. After retirement they had settled down in Bangalore, as their children were studying here. Uncle is 86 years old. Aunty died last month. They have lived a better part of their retired life alone after their kids migrated to the US. Since there are so many mallu families in my area, they never felt the pinch of not having anyone around them. Then age began to catch up and soon, they were unable to go out and visit friends and relatives or for their evening strolls.

A son came back and arranged for an elderly Anglo Indian lady to look after them. We rarely saw them out as they were mostly confined to the house. On our visits to check on them, they would talk wistfully of Kerala, their childhood and happy times there. Uncle used to regale us so many stories about his childhood, the thrilling adventures that he and his friends embarked on and the naughty childhood pranks. Their ardent wish was to be buried there, next to their parents and siblings. But that was not possible as they had left their village many decades ago. A visit to Kerala was ruled out because they were too frail for the journey. Aunty and Uncle's last wish was always to go back to their village one last time.

Nowadays when I go for my evening walks with the dogs, I can see Uncle hunched in front of the TV or being served dinner. I drop in from time to time with some Pavakkai thoran …uncles favorite and his eyes will light up. He hates the soup, the lady makes. When I say my byes shouting goodnight into his ears, I feel so helpless to see the loneliness in his eyes. When I got back from Kerala last month, he was so excited to hear about the place. I didn’t tell him of the rampant construction and fast vanishing greenery. I told him that the place was the same and his bleary eyes glazed as he imagined the Kerala of his childhood and youth.

For aunt’s funeral, there was a large contingent of relatives from Kerala to bid her final farewell. After the funeral I did what I like most, i.e. walk around the peaceful cemetery. The place is so well kept with so many trees. The atmosphere is peaceful. There is a fair sprinkling of mallu names on the tombstones. People who had left their home and hearth many years ago to find work, respect, dignity and a productive life outside their home state, wistfully hoping to return in their lifetime.

How many such dreams are buried here I wonder.

The spirit of the game...beer!

There is deathly silence in my house today. Quite a contrast to yesterday, when a whole bunch guys landed up here, the two friends circles of both brothers. So, there were the married types (eldest brother's friends) trying to pacify disgruntled wives over their mobiles and the merry bachelors (second brother's friends) making numerous sorties to liquor shops and stacking the fridge with beer. The occasion? The Quarter Final matches that they were going to watch on the giant screen installed in the lawns.

Normally my house is crawling with guys but yesterday there were too many. Two diversely opposite groups who normally avoid each other by having their Friday get together in opposite ends of the house. There were guys looking at the skies and fretting over the cloud formation while there were some who kept opening the fridge from time to time, as though by checking up on the beer would make it chill faster. ( and they call us gals fussy!!!)

The roads were deserted by 8 pm and me and the doggies had the full run of the street for some quality time together. I got back to see Portugal and England battling it out in what seemed a really tough game. What was interesting was the crowd watching the match on the giant screen. Everyone was wearing the colors of the team they were supporting. So both teams had fair support. My Dad and his card group were sitting timidly, a safe distance away for they risked getting crushed by guys jumping up and down and cursing and shouting and spilling beer. The general atmosphere was charged and one could feel the tension in the air. It was interesting to watch the match and the emotions it evoked and the emotions in the wake of the aftermath of the match. The English supporters were dejected while the Portuguese supporters were jubilant and doing some kind of dance to celebrate on the lawn.

The crowd had their food and was ready for the next cliffhanger...Brazil Vs France. By this time I decided to sleep. However sleep was interrupted by sudden shouts and I rushed out from time to time to see that the score was still 0-0. Somewhere in some ungodly hour I was shaken awake by my brother telling me that the match was over. I went out groggily to see one section of the crowd sitting in stunned silence while another was jumping up and down. France had won *Yawn*.

I went back to sleep and got up to an unnatural silence today. Except my mom and the maids everyone is fast asleep. There are bodies everywhere, there is one guy sleeping outside in front of the giant screen bottle still in hand. And there are some on the sofa, while most of them are stretched out on the verandah on the mattresses hired for the day (they thought of everything).

Guess it will be a peaceful Sunday today.