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Showing posts from 2011

French Leave … The Indian version

  There was an article in the papers this morning which reminded me of an incident from a while back. I had just joined the work force then.   Some folks had come to work in jeans that day. Not standard regulations. Turned out that they were on leave. They were on leave as they could not claim their LTA otherwise. But apparently had too much work, were too busy, were too important to actually go on leave. Wearing jeans at work was their honour badge. The vacation … only on paper.   It was the 90s.   Kolkata actually. Not Mumbai.   Then a new century started. A new city for me. Mumbai. Another corporate concept… ‘Half day’.   I remember at least two occasions…in two different companies where folks went all the way to the office gate taunting their colleagues, who were leaving just a bit after official closing hours, with a kindergarten bully-like taunt of ‘half day … half day’. A very prevalent form of sledging then.   Luckily I only once worked in a place

Just a little bit over the top

The barber shop traditionally was a  man's last bastion of serenity. A place away from domestic chores and feminine wiles. A place to talk about man stuff. The barber often multi-tasking as a shrink. My genes tell me that haircuts are one thing that I don't need to set aside money for in my retirement fund. A few more haircuts and soon that's one thing that won't need to be ticked on the to do list. Which is how I explain spending a ridiculously high amount for haircuts.  I don't know if I want to name the place I go to. Simply because I am sure they would like folks with thicker manes to be their brand ambassadors.  It's an airy, glass and chrome place, young folks in black, lounge music that I recognize from the gym.    There are no barbers here. There are stylists. I had a 'stylist' for the last couple of years. S was the exact  opposite of the swarthy barbers of yore. Over time our conversations became interesting. The usual stu

The Nowhere Man

Bumped into a few Bangladeshis at Sydney's Miller Street. They were talking in Bengali and I asked them for directions in Bengali. We began to talk. Turned out they were at the 'Uni'. On hearing I was from India, they asked me if I was from Kolkata. Mumbai, I replied without thinking. Got a bit philosophical when I left them. Where am I from?

Chinese whispers go Digital

I saw a tweet at 2 am a couple of nights back. A friend tweeted saying that people were throwing stones on the streets of Bandra and that she had a scary ride home. Soon there were others tweeting about 'riots/ stone throwing' on the streets of Bandra and Khar and asked people to stay home. Some wondered about the relevance of asking people to 'stay home' at 2 AM. But this is Mumbai. I retweeeted some of these tweets too. Then I switched on the TV. All the English news channels were showing repeats from the Grammy Award ceremonies from earlier in the day. Even the ticker didn't mention the stone throwing incidents. Ditto for Aaj Taak, the only Hindi channel I could think of. This was twenty minutes after the tweets started. No surprises that the newspapers didn't mention this the next morning. But 2 AM was well after papers were put to bed. I guess news travels fastest on social networks these days. Within that, possibly on Twitter. I didn't see a ment

How green was my Bandra

This is an e that I got from a twitter friend who only DM's or e's me. Interesting perspective "Really nice to read about your pleasant experiences at good ole Candy's. I witnessed something peculiar a few days ago - was on my way back into town, decided to stop at (big) Candy's & buy a cup of coffee to keep me awake on the drive home. A young lad, possibly in his late 20s - girlfriend in tow, literally shouted at the guy behind the counter. Why? Because they had run out of the items he wanted to order. Reached a point where I thought he might actually jump over the counter and molest the staff. Funny how Bandra has changed. Wasn't like this less than 4 years ago. Ah well, proof that I am indeed, an old fart. Cheerio'"  K: Well, that makes it two of us. When the crowd at Candies gets too much, I walk away. You can't hang them for their popularity