Social networking - take 2!

Ever so often I "still" hear people complaining about facebook. So decided to list some of the complaints down with my humble responses. Do you have any of your own to share?

1. "I don't get facebook."

You are seeing the glass half empty.

2. "Why do I care if someone is eating their lunch, or catching a nap or tieing their shoe lace"

Someone doesn't care if you care.

3. "I don't need to know what people are doing every minute of their life"

Keep it up, your kids will be very happy.

4. "I don't understand why someone would want the world to know what they are thinking every minute of their lives."

It's the same urge that made you think I wanted to know what you are thinking of this minute of your life!

5. "If someone really wanted to know what I have been up to, they would have called"

Maybe you are one of those "so what else is new with you?" types.

6. "It is rather ironic that we communicate so much on facebook, yet hardly ever meet"

That's what your parents think when they are speaking with you on the phone.

7. "Facebook is a passing fad"

In this world, so are you. Enjoy it while it lasts!

Post-Mumbai jitterbug

I arrive at the Mumbai airport, sick, from exhaustion of month-long non-stop shows, and of traveling from SF to Mumbai all alone. On the flight from SF I get the one broken-sound-system seat on-board; I am in no mood to reminisce the silent era. The next flight to Mumbai has a completely broken sound system on-board. Thanks Cathay Pathetic! Mumbai airport has had a facelift - pleasant surprise! On our way home, the Mumbai traffic gets me over my flight of fury in no time - no surprise! Two days to Show 1, I restrain the urge to splurge on food.

Friday October 9, the rickshaw pulls into Somaiya campus, which has also had a facelift. My professor takes me to the "faculty lounge", an area that I'd be apprehensive of standing in and dreamt of sitting in if I was in college. Next stop, the Red Auditorium. As I am led in by the faculty head and my professor, rows upon rows of students quieten down and stand up to welcome us. My sis, walking with me, finds it all quite amusing - she is not alone! We take front row seats. I am presented with a bouquet of flowers. The proceedings begin with a "Prarthana", followed by a slideshow about Samson Koletkar the ex-SIMSRite, and an intro by my professor; in the middle of which I grab my notebook and start jotting things down, my sis grinning at my comedian-ness.

On stage, I am handed the mic and I look at the crowd looking at me, "What do we do now?" going through both our heads. "Scream, whistle, clap, jump, do whatever it takes, let's make some noise" is my call and the students, some readily, some hesitantly, oblige. I feel better. I start off by pulling my professors leg, and I hear the first not-sure-if-we-should-laugh-at-our-teacher laugh. A few more observations and I jump into my material, exhilaration running through my veins. I see the eagerness in the eyes of the audience...to experience their first live standup comedy performance, to see someone stand up there and talk in his own voice, to listen to views and opinions of India and America and Jews and Bollywood and Family and Relationships and all that you talk about in private. I am constantly gazing the crowd, trying to understand if they understand me, do I take some time to explain a little, are they with me, am I losing them, am I making sense, am I relevant, what should I do next, what should I skip. The regular bursts of laughter, sometimes at unexpected junctures, keep egging me on. With the worry of "connecting" long gone, I start conversing more. As an alumnus who worked in Mumbai and is living in US, I have a lot to converse. I talk about my college days, my Mumbai days and my initial days in the US. Story telling is my forte and who wouldn't want to hear the story of a shy Indian Jewish boy, born and raised in middle-class Mumbai, working in computers in US, turned standup comedian!

60 minutes on the clock, a big closer and a thank you speech from the host marks the end of my first show in my hometown, or so I thought. The students gather in a separate classroom for a little Q&A. One student takes over the mantle, mimicking some professors, reminiscent of my own college days. Handshakes and thank yous and pictures and friendly jibes and a lot of new facebook friends completed my first show in Mumbai. Post show, ritualistically, I rerun the whole show in my head, what I could have done, what I should have done, what I did do , what I didn't do, what clicked, what didn't, how I felt and what I learned. Immensely satisfied, I celebrate with my first food splurge!

Two weeks fly by, it's time for Show 2 with a fellow San Francisco comedienne amalgamating an intresting theme - An American Jew in India & An Indian Jew in America! Alicia Dattner made a trip to India last year and a complete act out of it. She called me, spoke of her plan to visit India again and the idea of doing a joint show struck us. Sunday October 25th at the Jewish Community Center, the stage is set, the crowd is in, seats are full, some folks are piled up on desks, others on couches and office chairs. I wait impatiently for my turn as Alicia performs her act. 45 minutes later the impatience gives way to adrenalin, the rush of being on stage in front of my people - fellow Mumbai Jews (with some American & Canadian Jewish volunteers present too)! My opener, "This is the only crowd where my most frequently used opener - Hi, my name is Samson Koletkar and I am an Indian Jew, which makes me a rare species, so if anybody wants a picture with me...5 bucks - won't work", works like a charm and I'm on my way. No gazing the crowd, no need to explain anything, no worry about being understood...being relevant...making sense, nothing to skip. Every joke, every story, hits its mark. Why won't it? Who can better understand the predicament of an Indian Jew!

At the end of 45 minutes, there is only 1 regret, I had only 45 minutes to perform. Not that anyone would have minded a longer performance, but it's always good to leave folks wanting more - and in this case, both, the audience and the performers, were left wanting more. Handshakes and thank yous and pictures and friendly jibes and smiling faces beaming with pride all around marked my second show in Mumbai. Delirious, I celebrate with my umpteenth food splurge!

Whether I ruffled some feathers with unconventionalism or I triggered some minds with it, one thing's for sure: Performing standup comedy in India - been there, done that and will definitely do it again!

Anatomy of a desi gig

Not saying that all of this happens at every single desi event, but...

1. You have to perform "Indian clean" material. In the American standup world you have 3 types of comedians - Blue, Clean & TV Clean. In the Indian world, there's a 4th type of comedian, beyond TV clean - Indian clean. What's clean comedy for American TV may not be clean comedy for an Indian event.

2. If I had a dime for every Indian event that started on time, I'd have a penny.

3. The Indian event motto is same as the boy scout motto, "Be Prepared". You never know when you will be thrown on stage. Just when you think it's your time, the previous speaker on stage will test your patience.

4. Even after instructing verbally and putting it in writing in your signed contract, you will have to perform with a Karaoke machine.

5. Deal with all shapes, forms, sizes and types of hecklers. First and foremost - kids - because Indians believe in 3 million gods but not in a baby-sitter. Be prepared for kids running all over the place, right in front of the front row and even on stage. Don't frown at the kids, they are your biggest alibi. They, if you can't, will certainly utter something that will make everyone laugh. They also, more than the grown-ups, will give you the biggest laughs out of their own mouths. Next, the uncles and the aunties, who always have a thought, a reference or a callback to your joke, to share. They aren't heckling you, only "helping" you. And last but never the least, the smart, sophisticated, seld-designated people's representative who will voice their disagreement at every opportunity. Deal with it with a smile.

6. You can make a joke about guns, but you can't make a joke about condoms (if you twitched as you read that, you are probably Indian). You can get away with uttering "bullshit", "asshole" and even "bastard", but never ever utter "sex" (did you twitch again?).

7. Be prepared for post performance inputs from members of the audience:

- Here's a joke I heard that you can use in your act...

- You are good, it is really hard to make Indians laugh (you hardly saw me laugh)

- You are good, I really liked your comedy (which I showed by nodding my head in approval instead of laughing)

- Why don't you perform on Last Comic Standing

- You are a comedian? I love Seinfeld! (& the other comedian name that I am going to throw at you during our conversation is Russel Peters)

- I used to watch a lot of comedy (but don't anymore because I have kids now, and remember, no-baby-sitters-for-Indians!)

Pre-Mumbai jitters

5th Oct 2009, Monday night at SFO airport.

It's October 2009. Exactly 9 years since I landed in USA. I arrived in US with the mindset of a really long camping trip. I had been away from home so many times before, this one is just like an extended trip, is what I convinced myself. I wasn't really excited to come to US, since I had never really intended to. As my fellow computer folks started jumping the body shopping train I used to sit and wonder if something was wrong with me for not wanting to jump. Then opportunity came knocking at my door and I decided to not let it pass. In hindsight, perhaps one of the better decisions of my life. I know I say better and not best, because the best one was yet to come. For 5 long years I struggled to understand what I was doing, in US, in life. I was living carefree, not a damn concern about anything. I lost my job 3 times in the very first year, during which I managed to make 2 trips to New York, 1 to Chicago and countless ones to LA. Lost a job, who cares, lets enjoy the time off. Sunnyvale wasn't that enjoyable to live in anyways. I moved to Los Angeles, spent a few months, worked with my uncle for a few months outside the Software realm, not fun, worked for a startup, with 3 guys, in the back of a computer repair shop, for no pay, got a project up in the bay area and moved back to.....Sunnyvale!

After staying at my friends place for a month while my friend was traveling, I moved into a small apartment with another Indian roommate. It was a small room, a shared bathroom and only $500 monthly rent. For the first time in my life money mattered. For the first time in my life sharing a bathroom bothered me. But it worked well, since my roommate was a morning person, and I, a perennial late starter. I made my first trip back home after 2 years and Mumbai was just the same. I ran amok, meeting whatever friends were left behind in the city but had moved on in their lives. It felt a little strange, but it was a big turning point in my life. I realised that living life is like a driving a car - you should look in the rear view mirror every now and then, but you can't drive if you keep looking in the rear view mirror. My first trip to Mumbai helped me focus back on the road, what was ahead, and leave behind what went behind.

Here I am sitting at the SF airport waiting to board my flight on my 4th trip to Mumbai, and how the last 9 years flash in front of my eyes. 4 years ago when I was thinking about venturing into standup comedy, my biggest concern was how will I be able to relate to American audiences. Sitting around with Indian friends and cracking jokes with shared backgrounds filling in the unspoken words and the unexplained references was so easy. How do I explain it to the non-Indian audiences. But I found the first month that I spent doing shows to be very rewarding. There were things that made no sense to anyone when I uttered them on stage, but there was that addictive laughter that cracked up consistently through the month to keep me going. The next 4 years have been the most rewarding years of my life. I had found my identity. The one question that I could never answer before was - where do you see yourself in 5 years. Today I see myself on stage, in 5, 10, 50 years from now. Standup comedy is my MBA, my Yoga, my meditation, my relaxation, my drive, my life.

The irony is that here I am, an Indian, born and raised in Mumbai, who came to America, and jumped into the world of comedy, going back home to perform in front of my home peeps, and concerned, while exicted, about how will my hometown audiences relate to my material. I will find out in a few days. I have always consciously worked towards material that's not highly American centric, finally a chance to put it to the real test.

I love you San Francisco, but for now I have to attend to my first love - Mumbai, here I come!

My 11-Apr-09 Syracuse Comedy Show Experience

10-Apr-09, Friday evening, I get back from work a little early. I have to fix my camera, I have missed recording my performances for quite some time now. I "play" with it, a while later, the camera starts recording again. I rush for a haircut, rush into the shower, gobble dinner, put up tapes in the bathroom for my wife's weekend-bathroom-painting-mission, choose my performance clothes (most time consuming activity), pack my bags, gulp a cup of hot Indian masala chai, grab the car keys and we head to the airport. The airport traffic enforcers ensure no time is spent outside, so after a quick goodbye to my wife, I head to the JetBlue terminal, check my bag in, breeze through the security and camp myself by the gate much earlier than expected, compounded by the fact that I mistook the boarding time for the flight time. All along I keep chirping via twitter.

I plug the power cord in, open up my laptop and start working on the movie script for my friend. 3 notebooks to retype into a soft copy and I have decided to utilize this trip to finish it all off. The annoucements are non stop and irrelevant. So I keep typing. Before long, I am done with 1 book. Time to let the world know - tweet. Start book 2, keep an eye on the gate, everyone has boarded, pack my laptop, board the plane. A pleasant surprise as Katie Compa, a fellow SF comedienne makes her way through the aisle, we have a quick chat, and she moves onwards to her seat. One last tweet, the phone is off, the TV screen is on. I had planned to continue working with the books on the plane if I had an empty seat besides me, but the crew confirmed that the plane was full so had to contend myself with TV.

I don't remember what channel I was watching (HGTV?, Travel?), but it was about home remodeling, home staging for sale, home buyers seeing 3 and picking 1. A few notes to self, and an hour later its time to switch the TV off and the sleep on. Landed at JFK and started working on the book again, but the itchy, watery eyes and some ceremonious sneezing forced me to stop. I grab a cheese pizza and watermelon box, and head back to the gate. Waiting..., watching the overhead TVs, and after some serious mind wrenching patheticity on the idiot box, I tweet my frustration! On board the short flight to Syracuse, an hour more of TV - this time a few minutes of Lacrosse, 3 out of 10 mega structures of the world (the program is called 10 mega structures of the world, and all 10 on the list are in the US - according to the program preview - sooo American!) and a lot of channel surfing. Some turbulence, a hard landing and then the announcement "Welcome to Syracuse" with an assurance of 33 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I get my jacket on. walk out of the plane and in to a furnace. The jacket is quickly off, a quick wait for the checked in bag, a quick call to the hotel for the shuttle, a quick chat with wife and 60 minutes later I am in my hotel room.

First things first, plug in the laptop, connect to the free wifi, and reply to all the facebook comments. Check email. Check cricket news - nothing exciting there. Get a call from the organiser that Rajiv has just arrived at the hotel, call Rajiv, meet in the lobby in 10 minutes and head out to lunch. Syracuse, a nice little town, much bigger and more crowded than I anticipated. Our hotel is right across the university, amidst all the shops and restaurants. Rajiv, in his peculiar jacket and muffler, and I walk to Samrat Indian Cuisine. A nice buffet and chai along with nice long talks, am meeting Rajiv in person after months. We notice our faces on the posters in the restaurant and Rajiv mentions it to the owner. She looks a little bedazzled as she tries to match the studio shots to post-flight-trauma-syndrome-faces of ours. We get our bill, Rajiv expecting some discounts, me, wondering, after looking at the amount, if we got a celebrity-status-bill. We walk back to the hotel, and plan to meet again around 5.30pm for another quick munch with Paul.

Back in my room, I change into something more comfortable and smelling awesome. My after-shave bottle cap is broken! Oh tweet! Groom, hot shower, relax, watch some more TV, get ready, run over the set list, tweak a little, down to the lobby. Paul is there, good to see him again, long time! Rajiv arrives too, and we all head over to the auditorium. Paul decides to brave the Syracuse cold with no jacket. As we are walking up the stairs I point out the rarity of the occasion - I am the buffest guy on the lineup!

We enter the auditorium, a lot of people, a lot of noise, looks good! We settle in the back of the auditorium, I setup my camera. The announcements begin, the dancing acts unfold, the crowd is loud and cheerful to see their friends on stage. Its time for the 1st comedian of the evening. I stand in the wings, the bar stool and a water bottle is set, the mic is set, the stage is set, they announce my name and I walk out to a gracious welcome cheer. Feels great! I grab the mic and greet the crowd. The mic works - great! The crowd settles in, I jump right into my first joke "vegetarians", it's risky, in a room with majority of Indians. The crowd, expectedly, goes silent on my first opinionated line. I am calm. I continue. I hear laughter building up as I get to the 1st punchline. Then comes the 2nd punch, it gets a bigger laugh and an applause break. The crowd loves it! I love it! A good start. I move on to my Indian Jewness, towards the end of which I am again pushing a little with my aethistic view. The crowd likes it, I like it! I try my new political bit about taxes and bailouts, and it doesn't fly with the crowd. No worries, switch back to the more fine tuned Mahatma Moses bit.

While going through the set list before the start of the show I was debating between my SF-centric Blue Angels bit and 2 tech jokes. I do the Blue Angels bit. Works in bits and pieces but at the end of my performance makes me wish I had done the 2 tech jokes instead. I have a new tag for my Airport Security bit, I try it for the first time, and it kills! Half way through my set I mention that I notice the crowds peculiar pattern - laugh/clap and get back to the listen only mode very quickly. I carry on with my set, keeping an eye for the 5 minute signal. I don't see it. I quickly glance at my watch. Enough time to finish up with 2 more bits. I do my new bit about the Indian accent, this one, so far, is reserved only for Indian events. I finish my set with my Salt & Pepper bit and walk off the stage to another loud cheer and feeling good about a pretty decent performance.

Back at the back of the auditorium, Paul and Rajiv acknowledge it. I sit down, gulp some water and start analyzing my performance in my head immediately. The one bit that sticks out is the Blue Angels bit and I mention to Rajiv that I should have perhaps gone with the tech jokes instead. The next dance performance starts & I settle back down. Rajiv is getting ready for his stage time. Paul is scribbling away in his notebook.

2 dances later Rajiv is up on stage. I set my camera recording. Rajiv moves around a lot during his set, and I notice at times he is off the camera, so I zoom it out a little. Then Rajiv decides to sit on the stool, now I can zoom back in. Rajiv starts of a little slow but gets into top gear soon. The crowd is with him. Rajiv finishes very strong. Its intermission. Three of us are still in the back of the auditorium. Some of the crowd members shake our hands and talk to us. Some of them give specific feedback. "Dude, I was laughing in the wings on your bailouts joke, not sure why the crowd wasn't!", says one. Another mentions, "I am a Vegetarian, but I totally get your joke, my friends do the same to me sometimes." A couple of Jewish kids walk up to me and agree with my answers to the general questions about my Jewishness. Some just shake my hand and say, "Good job" or "You are funny" or "That was great" and even "Thanks for doing this". It's a little awkward watching everyone talk to Rajiv and me, all along Paul is standing quietly on the side. He goes up in the 2nd half.

Rajiv and I settle into the seats on the right side of the auditorium, closer to the stage. Paul, is on stage, being...Paul! I am delighted that he decides to do the Indian food ingredients joke - my favorite. I have learnt a lot from Paul over the years, and it was good to see him on stage again. The crowd loves him, and is sure to let him know at the end of the show.

We head back to the hotel, Rajiv, me & a jacketless Paul! I put my bag in the room, we gather back down for the after party. I am a little hesitant, but then Rajiv and Paul manage to coerce me in. I remember when I partied through 3 clubs in 1 night, that was a long time ago. The college kids are having a good time. Rajiv limits himself to 4 shots. Not sure what's Pauls count. 2am the party is over and we are back in the hotel lobby. Chatting about everything under the sun in the comedy world, we end up staying awake till 4am. Paul decides to rush back to his room, pack up and leave for his 6am flight. Rajiv has no idea what time his flight leaves, so he goes up to his room to check his schedule. I am in a limbo. I have 2 hours left for the airport shuttle. Enough time for a quick nap, but risky!! I try to watch TV but that doesn't help. So I pack everything, check out at the front desk and fall asleep on one of the chairs in the lobby.

I hear some voice. After hearing it for a while I open my eyes to find the shuttle driver asking me if I was going to the airport. I gloat how smart I am for napping in the lobby instead of my room, thank him for waking me up, and get into the shuttle. In no time we are at the airport, I check in my bag, walk through security and am at the gate in no time. Back to napping. I hear some annoucements, open my eyes slightly to see everyone queued up. Got time for some more nap. Then I hear some announcement again. This time I open my eyes and there is only the crew at the gate. I get up, get on the flight and go right back to sleep. I feel someone nudging my shoulder. It is the air hostess asking me if I was continuing to Dallas. I pick my backpack and head out of the flight and in to the Philadelphia airport. The Philly airport is a little weird I must admit, Their entry gates have a walkway that takes you a level down. One side is the walkway to the plane and other side has stairs - strange! As I am walking through the airport to my gate I notice "The Obama Shop" selling various merchandise with Obama's face on them. I reach my gate and am looking for a seat to nap. I find a lot of torn seats, reminiscent of some airport in India. I settle into a corner seat and am napping instantly. Wake up to another announcement, walk down the aisle, get into the plane and right back to my napping. This time though I am awaken a few times by my hurting knee. US Airways not anywhere close to JetBlue in comfort. I also hear their not-so-friendly announcements every now and then. The only thing good that US Airways did that day was an early arrival in SFO so I could get the hell out of that cattle carrier.

Back home, time for another quick nap, which duly turns into a nice long sleep. Woke up late in the evening and started working on the video. Have to cut Rajiv's copy, its now or never! I review my own video with Saylee, she notices a few changes, a few new ones and a few missing words from certain bits. The video suggests a much better show performance than my initial self-evaluation. Don't remember much of what I did in the zombie state for the rest of the evening, but after a little restlessness, it was a good-night-after-two-nights sleep!

Google Latitude: What's in it for me?

I was 25, my cousin 15. We decide to let him drive my car around the neighborhood on a weekend. Saturday morning my cousin is ready to take the wheel. I hand him the keys and get in on the passenger seat. He gets in the drivers seat. As soon as he is in, he adjusts the steering wheel tilt, all the mirrors, the seat height and back position, turns the ignition on and without missing a beat, realizing that the radio station that just turned on is not so desirable to his ears, extends his hands to tune his favorite radio station, when suddenly he sees my hand approaching his and preventing him from touching the radio. He has a look on his face that changes from surprised to questioning to perplexed to confused to uncertain, just as fast as all the settings in my car changed. Then I sound him my words of wisdom, "Just drive the car! Why are you changing everything? In a few minutes I will have to change it all back!" The look on his face did a quick second lap of all the emotions only to be interrupted by a verbal comment, "So?!".

I flash back to the time when I was about 15. We had just gotten cable TV at home, unstable, outages ever so often, and then when it started working, all the channels were mixed up. Zee TV, used to be on channel 5, is now on channel 26. ESPN, used to be on channel 6, is now on channel 9. Star Movies changed from channel 7 to channel 20, and Zee News, from 4 to 7. One cycle through the 30 channels on our TV & I know which channel plays what. A few days later, another outage, another service resumption, and another channel jumble, another cycle through 30 channels & I know exactly which channel plays what. But with every service disruption and resumption, my dad got more and more frustrated, because he had to "try" to re-memorize all the channels all over again. Every time I heard my dad complain "the *#$%&! cable guy jumbled the *#$%&! channels again", I had this look on my face that changed from surprised to questioning to perplexed to confused to uncertain, "So?!" After the first few months of inspiringly-creative-expletive-flinging, my dad found a solution - I was to manually set all the channels as per his taste. If the service disruption jumbled the channels, I will manually re-set all the channels back - every time! It seemed to work well for him. He now knew exactly what was playing where. He liked it that way.

Flash forward to my cousin's "So?!" comment, I realise I have become my dad - resistant to change!

The reason I remember these incidents from my life is because every time I am faced with something new that I need to adapt to, something that I have been comfortably doing for a while that needs to be done in a new way, I resist. Even if its something trivial like readjusting the settings of my car. I have this habit of getting in my car and starting to drive. Everything is set, everything is in place. Its a habit. I don't want anyone to force me to change my habit.

Sometimes, its a bigger challenge. Trying to figure out whether to adapt to technological advances that don't make immediate sense. I recently wrote about facebook and twitter. Today's topic is Google Latitude. Some time ago, my friend suggested me to start using it and, as per my habitual-sense, I found it absurd. Why would I want to let anyone know where I am all the time. Moreover, why would I want to know where everyone else is all the time! Here is a totally selfish, hence reasonable and logical and acceptable, explanation of why I adapted.

Ever so often, I bump into friends, at restuarants, shops, movie theaters, on the street, least expected places. It feels great to see a friend completely randomly. We generally bid farewell promising to meet soon again. And then sometimes we actually do, accidentally bump into each other again, soon! I also like to stop by at my friends places if I am in the neighborhood. Share a cup of tea, a few words, and on my way. Then there are days when I am some place all alone, couldn't plan anything with anyone, no random luck, looking eagerly for someone to show up from somewhere, wanting to call and check on everyone but not sure who to start with. A good opportunity for me to open Google Laitude on my phone to find out that a friend of mine is in the neighbourhood restaurant, just a few blocks away. I then pick up the phone and call him, but obviously he doesn't answer it, so I quickly post on his wall, "Hey I see you are in the neighborhood. Lets meet." Voila! We are sitting at the restaurant, discussing how technology makes such a thing, unthinkable till not too long ago, possible!
----------
To learn more about Google Laitude: www.google.com/latitude
To add me on Google Latitude: samsonkoletkar@google.com

Capitalism, Socialism, et all

I received the following email today:

***Start***
An economics professor at Texas Tech said he had never failed a single student, but had once failed an entire class.

The class (students) insisted that socialism worked since no one would be poor and no one would be rich, a great equalizer. The professor then said, "OK, we will have an experiment in this class on socialism."

"All grades will be averaged and everyone will receive the same grade so no one will fail and no one will receive an A."

After the first test the grades were averaged and everyone got a B. The students who had studied hard were upset while the students who had studied very little were happy.

But, as the second test rolled around, the students who had studied little studied even less and the ones who had studied hard decided that since they couldn't make an A, they also studied less. The second Test average was a D.

No one was happy. When the 3rd test rolled around the average grade was an F.

The scores never increased as bickering, blame, name calling, all resulted in hard feelings and no one would study for anyone else.

To their great surprise all failed. The professor told them that socialism would ultimately fail because the harder people try to succeed the greater their reward (capitalism) but when a government takes all the reward away (socialism) no one will try or succeed.
***End***

I think this story is imaginary and hence not right. There are just too many implausible assumptions. I'll list some, making one of my own assumptions, that this story is propagated by an anti-socialism capitalist.

1. It assumes that everyone slacks which is the worst case scenario. In the best case scenario, everyone would have studied harder cause everyone would have realized that by studying a little harder everyone would get an A.

2. Since the entire class believed in Socialism, chances are the A graders would have helped the others to improve by "sharing" their knowledge and tricks and tips for exams, etc. It assumes that students gave up their beliefs altogether after just 1 test.

3. It also assumes that most students in the class were A graders and a few few slackers, how else would they average B in the first test?! So with 1 + 2 + 3, this was the perfect class model for socialism to succeed.

Here's another implausible capitalist scenario for the class. The teacher likes the A grade student. So he pays more attention to them and ignores the F ones. He answers more questions of the A students and less of the F ones. He spends extra time with the A students after school hours to make them A+ where as the F ones suffer due to negligence and become F-. Since the professor already likes the A+ students he forgives a lot of their follies, and gives them a lot more opportunities. He also rewards them more handsomely for every little achievement. Infact none of their achievements are little any more. He also alters his teaching style to suit the A graders so that they can become A+++. All the time the F graders are being constantly ignored and becoming F---. The professor himself looks like a Professor+++ because he has some really bright A+++ students. Other Professors quicly learn the reason behind this Professors success and start replicating the same in their classes. So what we now have is a bunch of A+++s all over the place, who are, in fact, simply As, but think of themselves as A+++++++s, only hang around with other A+++++++s, and are completely oblivious to all the F----------s around them. The F graders grow up to envy the A graders, and the envy grows to envy++++++++ (or envy--------, if you like it that way) and eventually declare an all out war against the A graders. All the A graders and F graders fight each other all the time, and eventually everyone kills everyone, and everyone dies!

Delusionary POS

Every now and then I like to cross-check the meaning of certain words on dictionary.com. Todays word is delusion. Here are the first two explanations of the word delusion on dictionary.com

de·lu·sion [di-loo-zhuhn]
noun
1. an act or instance of deluding.
2. the state of being deluded.
(http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/delusion)

How brilliant! Explaining the meaning of a word by using the same word! That makes me think that dictionary.com is a POS. Now, I know POS is an acronym, and habitually I also like to look up acronymfinder.com, which I promptly do for POS. 79 results returned and closest one to my intent is

*** POS Piece Of Stuff (polite form)
http://www.acronymfinder.com/POS~3.html

That makes me think that acronymfinder.com is also a POS!

Facebook, Twitter, et all

Earlier today, my good old friend asked me - whats the deal with twitter. I, a regular (not ardent) user, explained to my friend what twitter meant to me. You have 140 characters to tweet whats on your mind, and there are followers out there who are interested in following your tweets. Twitter seems like a good business idea e.g. if Toys R Us (my friend has a toddler) tweets a special discount at a neighborhood store, and you pick the tweet, you could get a deal sweet. Twitter is also good for celebs, where fans can get an inside peek into their day to day lives, whatever they are willing to share. So for a teen that is totally infatuated to the next American Idol winner, it is possible to keep up on the gossip because of all the tweets coming straight out of the horses mouth.

The talk quickly turned to Facebook, and my explanation was easier. Facebook is to me what Orkut is to my friend. A site that keeps me up-to-date on my friends (via status updates, posts, pics, etc). Inevitably the idea of losing real touch and inability to make new close friends took over the discussion. We seem unable to develop deep connections with anyone. We yearn for face value; everyone is busy in their lives. We want to meet friends more often, but alas we have to contend ourselves with the more passive ways of keeping in touch. All these thoughts have occurred to me before. After fighting them for a while I gave into the idea of - just go with the flow. That's when I joined twitter and became really active on facebook. I thought I had two choices - either sit and grumble about how we have lost those good old days OR do the best I can with whatever the new trends are...while not losing all the (g)old ways. I figured it's a phase of life that many before me have been through and many after me will, too.

I remember how my parents struggled to understand how I could talk to a friend on the phone for hours tonight and another few tomorrow morning. What could I possibly have to talk about so much so soon?! They never understood. Just like I don't understand why some kids today SMS and tweet and FB instead of simply emailing, chatting or best of all telephoning. But the one thing I understood was, my parents never had a phone to chat with friends for hours, I did. Then came emails, and I could write to more friends more regularly. It was so much easier than having to call each one - to give the same invitation over phone for example. Then came Instant Messengers, and that was a boon, cause now I could keep in touch with friends all the time, real time. I chatted for hours at a stretch, sometimes even going overnight.

Today I know a little more about a lot of people that I would not have, had it not been for facebook/orkut. I may not be in touch with all my friends regularly, but atleast I am not out of touch.

My latest addiction is updating my facebook status and seeing how many folks like it and how many have responded to it. I don't follow others as much as others seem to follow me. I figured that there are 2 kinds of people in the world - those that like to talk and those that like to listen. And no matter what the medium, those 2 kinds continue to co-exist for and because of each other. Needless to say I am the tweeter. Extending that idea further, I think that's why I am a standup comedian. I go up on a stage, in front of strangers, and like to talk to them. The audience, likes to listen to me, a complete stranger. We both co-exist for and because of each other.

The mediums may change but the purpose is the same. Staying in touch, and voicing your opinions, and the likes. Now the dilemma, should I post this on Facebook or publish it in my blog?!

Oh, and for all the talk about quality time with friends, my good old friend and I had this deep, long, philosophical discussion on GTalk!!

A nonsensical email forward...

Some time back I was forwarded the following email:

We can lower the price of gasoline if we work together. Please view the attached PowerPoint presentation and believe we can make a difference.

Then, the powerpoint goes on to elaborate how, by not buying from Shell/Exxon, we can create price wars and bring the price of gas down. Here's my question:

How about we choose to not purchase from Chevron instead? Since they are not the biggest they will feel the impact sooner. Or how about Arco? The extra transaction fee on the debit card purchases will also be cut down and then we can target 2 birds with one stone - Arco Gas and the ATM profiters. But wait, what if someone has begun a parallel chain to reduce the consumption of Chevron or Arco already? Maybe someone from Shell/Exxon.

How about we start another campaign, to drive hybrids only, so the gas consumption goes down automatically? But then, will Toyota, Honda and other hybrid manufacturers rule the market? In that case, why not start a campaign to stop driving altogether? But then there will too many people onboard the buses, which means the buses will consume more power to transport these people (and if an average American is to be accounted for...holy jeeragoli!!!). This also means that more buses more frequently will be needed to carry the passenger traffic, which in turn will increase the consumption of Gas. CRAP! We are back where we started!

O what the heck, its much easier to forward an email to 30 people. Now, i think i should forward this to everyone i received it from - as a reminder - just in case they forgot - dont buy from Exxon & Shell - even if you are on I-5 in Lost Hills en route LA and your car is running out of gas and the only gas station in the vicinity is a Shell. Push your cars and you can push those buggers to succumb into reducing the gas prices!

I am definitely boycotting Shell, as soon as i get a Chevron Mastercard that gives me 5% cashback on every gasoline purchase, and as soon as i am finished showing my folks from India around. Shell, you can make all the money you want in the next month and a half as i rent bigger vehicles and drive more and more, but come September...i mean July YOU ARE GONNA CRY!

(Originally emailed in May 07)

Rear-ended by a BMW

Every time I drive past a few bumped cars on a crawling freeway I think to myself, "Why can't people focus on the road while driving." I have never bumped into a car in front of me (did get real close one time in Mumbai when I almost ran into a stopped truck, but that is a different story, the truck fella was stopped in the fast lane and changing tires), atleast not yet, and I hope to keep that record intact. But this time, I am sitting in a stopped traffic jam on the freeway, I see a car's headlights in my rear view mirror, the car breaking hard, and immediately sense that it isn't stopping in time. Sitting like a lame duck, there is nothing I can do except embrace for the impact. How do I prepare myself for it? What am I supposed to do? I do what I've seen and felt is the most common thing to do - clench my eyes, hold on to the steering wheel, and await that dreaded metal-on-metal impact sound that is all so familiar with the number of accidents I have witnessed.

And then it happens, THUD! Followed by another THUD! This time from my car bumping into the car in front of me because of the force of impact from behind. Then there was a third THUD, the sound of me bumping into the car in front of me again, and I realise my foot is off the brake and my car is in motion. Slamming down on the brakes my first thought is, "Wow! No airbags!" I see the guy in the front car get out and try to walk to my car, but the cars around us have started moving again, and he does what seems most sensible at this moment - gets back into his car. The traffic around us is moving, and I sit here not knowing what to do. Looking back & forth I sense that everyone involved wants to get off the freeway, the fastest way being pulling over to the shoulder. We manage to maneuver ourselves there. Everyone steps out. I move the 3 of us behind the last car in order to keep us from getting smashed between one of our cars and the center divide, in case another car decides to join the party.

No one is hurt. I call 911. After confirming our location and no injuries I am asked the description of the 3 cars. A Mitsubishi Mirage in front, my Toyota Solara in between and a BMW behind it all. Wait a second, a BMW?! Over the past few years I have this thought brewing in me about BMW drivers. Driving a BMW seems a pompous proclamation of one’s recklessness. I once heard a fellow comedian comment on it, and I distinctly remember laughing hard at it.

I own a BMW myself, the difference - it's a motorcycle! I bought a touring bike. I remember the day I first walked into the BMW motorcycle dealership. Lo behold, the dealer offers me a 40 minute test ride. I ask him, "How come you allow test rides when no other Motorcycle company/shop does?" He said, "It’s because guys who come to us, who are thinking about a BMW, are a matured breed. They understand the thrills and frills of a motorcycle and have become responsible riders." What a paradigm shift! As a BMW Rider I am a mature, responsible person on the road; a BMW driver - rash, abrasive, reckless!

At the scene of the accident, we all exchange information and drive on. In the days that followed I heard quite a few people mention, "Thank God, you were not on your motorcycle at the time." WRONG! If I was on my motorcycle at the time, I would not be stopped in the traffic behind a car; I would be splitting lanes and passing all the stopped cars. Somewhere along the way I would probably see a few cars stopped in the middle of the freeway, bumped into each other, and think to myself, "Why can't people focus on the road while driving?!"

America or India?

Though I don't have one yet, I keep thinking (worrying?) about where to raise my kid. Do I raise him in America, where I now live and have made it my home, where I get to be what I want to be, and where he gets to be what he wants to be. Will he grow up any smarter, wiser, with the option to study and pursue anything under the sun right from an early age. He doesn't have to study chemistry if he doesn't want to. Nor does he have to become a doctor or an engineer or, for that matter, a cricketer. But that's not the concern, is it? Because all of that is dependent on me, and my wife, and how much pressure we put on our son to live up to our expectations. The concern is, will my son grow up Indian enough?

What if my son grows up with all the vices - weed, speed, meth, marijuana, alcohol, racism, uncultured, disrespectful, careless, reckless and what not. After all there is no one to keep an eye on him while he grows up in America. In India you got a thousand eyes watching you closely every moment of your life. There is no escape. Everyone is self policing, keeping you in check, all the time. They tell you what you can do, what you cannot do, what you should do, what you should not do, who you should befriend and who you should not. They don't have racism, they have cynicism. Cynicism because one has to look out for his own, because everyone else is hardly trying to improve their life, because everyone is trying hard to immiserate yours.

One of the things that I have read, and heard, and to a certain extent seen many many times, is how an Indian behaves spick and span outside his country but forgets it the minute he returns home to India. But in India he behaves spick and span in his home. Which means an Indian behaves right in his home and the rest of the world. What is it that makes him disregard the rest of India? Is this where I want my son to grow up? Where he keeps his house clean, and the rest of the world clean but litters all over India? The India where my son can't get by his life without bribing someone in some form, willingly or unwillingly. Where he has no clue when he will be left stranded without water, or electricity, or gas in his own home. Where he doesn't know when his next holiday is coming because the bus-wallahs or the taxi-wallahs or the teachers or some political party called a strike.

In India I have no control over circumstances but should manage to keep my kid under control (read fear). In America, the circumstances are pretty well set, and yet I may not be able to control my kid (child services?!). But is that the truth or is that the illusion? Are kids in India really under control? If I look at my childhood, youth and adolescence, I remember being the only one that didn't smoke, or drink, or do anything vile. I remember friends and neighbors that ran away from their homes, hit their parents, burn cars. I found it very disturbing that a lot of my friends were more willing to lie to their families than speak the truth; perhaps the pressure of living up to their expectations was too much.

More recently, everytime I made a trip back home I felt like a stranger, left behind, left behind by todays young generation that lives Hollywoodish and MTVish. I remember once walking along a popular "town side" college, seeing how the young college girls dressed, enough to put the Sharon Stones and Demi Moores to shame. I remember my own youth, where speaking double negatives like "I ain't not know" was cool. I would watch only English movies, and listen to only English music, because Bollywood was bakwaas and Hollywood, with its Rambos and Commandos, was jhakaas. Its a stark contrast to what I see in America today. The Indians, no matter where they were born, are more inclined to watch a Bollywood blockbuster on the opening weekend, watch Zee TV & Sony TV, speak to each other in Hindi, and those born in the motherland, gather together for Cricket World Cup. The festivals are celebrated with more culture and tradition than theie Indian counterparts, and wearing Indian clothes signifies a special coolness. And Indian food....ahh nothing beats it!

It seems like the Indians in America are more Indian than the Indians in India. Oh the dilemma!! I hope to find an answer before my kid shows up, because I have to decide where my kid grows up.