How do you explain this whacky coincidence?

"It's just unbelievable; carefully listen to what I will tell you now ", I told my friend as I took my seat behind the wheel. My car had just been hit from behind, but the statistical odds of what had happened had given me a bigger jolt. While the rear bumper was spotless, I was mentally wrung.

I had stopped my car at a traffic light. Then I had felt a push, more than a nudge, less than a crash, from behind. Mentally cursing the driver behind me for the potential paperwork arising out of potential damage caused from this dash, I got out of the car and proceeded to inspect the damage. Turned out it was nothing. But I still had to give a piece of my mind to the guy who had eased his car into mine. He had already been apologizing as I had been checking for damage. Then out of habit my eyes ran over the registration number plate of the car.

What the? As I read the number the second time, I could not believe it. Wasn't this the same number for which I had placed a gate pass request this morning? I had had a couple of official visitors and my workplace needs prior requests for all incoming vehicles. Then the description of the car given to me by Ms. P played back to me mentally; White Ford sedan. We use the descriptions to help the pass-carriers to quickly spot the cars at the gate. This was a White Ford. Out of requirement, I also needed to place the pass request for the driver. So, I knew his name. But what is happening here. This guy and I are in a completely different part of town, late in the evening, and he has to accidentally dash my car! I know this driver and the car simply because I remembered the details from the morning. Ok, I just proved to myself that I have good short term memory and was able to instantly make the connections. But, what are the odds that a person somehow connected to me, but unknown to me, dashes my car out of the blue later that day in a remote part of town? Doesn't Mumbai nest 20 million people or am I missing something?

Stumped as I was by the flood of recognition that was hitting me combined with the realisation that this was among the whackiest coincidences I have faced in my life, I thought I should share the surprise with the other driver too. I was smiling mentally, but frowning on the outside when I said to the driver in colloquial Hindi "Aren't you Ashraf? And haven't you been driving Mr.B all day? Were you following me? Couldn't you have found another car to hit?" He instantly apologised once again (totally unnecessary, I should tell you), but suddenly became silent. I could see the realisation of what I had told him drawing on his face.The look on the face of Ashraf was a sight to watch; not something money can buy.

Letting Ashraf deal with the absurdity of the coincidence, I walked back to my car and proceeded to tell the unbelievable story to my friend.

Can someone explain this to me? While I see no larger scheme behind what happened, I am unable to comprehend the odds of this happening.

PS: Ashraf is not the real name of the driver; for protecting identity I have changed the name
PS: I am a little kicked about the first PS; I have always wanted to write one like it.

Mysterious Four

Sometimes, it takes a while to see a pattern. And when you see a pattern there is a natural tendency to fit everything that you encounter into that pattern. I am not sure why a string of coincidences should, firstly, cause us to weave a pattern around it. But we do it all the time. Maybe it is natural (like the seasons). Maybe it is thousands of years of mental evolution that has brought patterns to bring comfort to humans. After all, there are festivals aligned to events that no one has witnessed and then there are those that are created by men; the new years day for example, which are directly linked to our annual trip around the sun. In any case, patterns comfort us; trying to find a meaning each time might be vain task. The fans of numerology may shower a satisfied laugh on us, but that's a matter of faith i cannot dispute until i know better. At least, watching in anticipation is very much entertaining. All it takes is a little effort to spot the markers. A small story follows.

This evening i flew back after a long-weekend trip. The number of the flight i took began with a 4 and the remaining two digits added up to 4. I requested for a window seat and was given one on row# 4. I had dinner at the airport, the bill amount was a multiple of 4 . We boarded from Gate #4. I had seen the pattern by now and was watching intently how far this went. We landed ahead of time, as usual it is for this 'sexy' airline, anyway. There was a brief announcement prior to disembarkation that our luggage could be collected at belt #4.

My bag was the first to arrive (not fourth) and i promptly proceeded to the fleet taxi counter. I was assigned a cab whose registration number had digits that added up to 16, square of 4. When i stepped off at the end of the short trip and paid the bill, the amount was a multiple of 16. I walked into our home and did my little routine of bringing the house back up. One of the last things i did was turning  the microwave on (better keep it off the 16 amps outlet when away for a few days). This meant i had to reset the clock and while at the exact instant it was 3 minutes past midnight, i thought there was no harm in waiting for a minute and setting the clock to 00:04.

PS: By the way, i did not pay attention to the number of the taxi that took me to the departure terminal, but, i am willing to bet & even lose a  few bucks (reasonable multiple of 4)  that the number might have been a multiple of 4.

In Mumbai, there's lot of drama...(Part 2)

(Continued from here)

Scene#1 Take#2:

It's late on a Saturday winter afternoon in a winterless Mumbai. It is very crowded today as I drive from one point in the suburbs to another. 'When isn't it crowded?' are my thoughts as I pull into a traffic light. Trance is playing on my car music system just as I notice that I am surrounded by autorickshaws.

A face peers out of the auto stopped to my immediate right. The sweet looking girl gestures me to roll down my car window. And I think, 'Don't I know this girl? I am dreaming? This has happened to me before. Is this deja vu?' Mind races back to the last time this scene was played out. Four months back, rainy night, traffic, same gestures... 'Oh, I know what is coming. Damn...my instincts were on the dot! I am glad I did not fall for that trick last time',are my thoughts as I cut the music and roll down the window.

Looks can be deceptive. But I feel a little proud for having judged it right the first time around. I need to get this girl to understand that she cannot get away with it all the time. A meek 'Sorry!' wouldn't have the punch. I need to say it like she cannot forget it for some time. But, I cannot make a scene. If a guy shouts at a stranger-woman (by now, all the sweetness about her has metamorphosed into wiliness) who is asking for help, those around you will likely trash you verbally, or physically, before listening to your story. Then there will be lot of honking from those behind me who are not interested in seeing where this goes. The inanity of the potential chaos makes me think we'll settle it the simple way. I only need to get a point across.

So, by the time she says it, I am saying it in my mind, smile on my face 'Sir, can you please do me a favour?'. My smile widens, as I lift up my index finger and say ' Ma'am, I know what you are going to say. But you have asked me for this favour once before, remember?'. I think she does not recognize me. But, I am sure that she knows that I know. She knows that she has slipped this time. She also probably cannot believe that she has tried to trick the same guy twice. What are the odds, isn't it? There are some things money can buy, but the look on her face was priceless.

Anyway, I am glad I had recognized that confident delivery of the request the first time around. I see that confidence again, when she recovers her poise and with sufficient stoicism, responds with 'OK' and then withdraws into the auto rickshaw.


(To be continued)

In Mumbai, there's lots of drama...(Part 1)

Called by many names, Mumbai, as a film city, ensnares people's imagination like no other. Does life mimic cinema or cinema mimic life here? In the continuum of what imitates what, the answer must lie only somewhere at the center. You'll find all flavours of life on the street -romance, fantasy, adultery, violence, deceit, drama, comedy etc- as long as you care to step back and observe. When the regular Mumbaikar cannot escape the real virtuality of the city, how can a simple guy like me? Here's are a few scenes from my life in the past few months...

Scene#1 Take#1:

It's late on a rainy evening of an otherwise quiet Saturday. You might have noticed that when it has been drizzling continuously, things kind of quieten down. I am driving alone from one point in the suburbs to another, cutting across several busy junctions. Now, I am stuck at the same signal for the third time that the light changes back to red.

Just as I am cursing the traffic congestion, the autorickshaw that was , directionally speaking, hanging around my five o'clock pulls ahead to my one o'clock. A sweet face of a girl in her early twenties or late teens cranes out of the auto. Her hand gestures to me to roll down my car window. As I see her eyelashes blinking away rain drops, I wonder whether she is looking for directions. But she is in an auto and usually, it is me that goes to an auto for directions, not the other way round. Anyway, my car window hisses halfway down and I wait for her to speak.

She says,in perfect English, "Sir, can you please do me a favour?" I am all the more unsure about what to expect now. "Sir, I do not have money to pay to this autorishaw guy. Can you please give me 80 Rupees?" My mind races. Something is not right about this scenario. Her sweet voice wants me to believe this is a genuine request. Her immaculate private school educated accent tells me she must be coming from at least a middle class home. I cannot make out what she is wearing, but, someone in her position, I assume, must have a cellphone. Even if she does not have one, why doesn't she wait till she reaches her destination and arrange for money with whomever she is meeting? Maybe, she is even going home now. Either way, asking money, publicly, from a stranger, is not a smart thing to do in my opinion. Doing so exposes her vulnerability. Why is she asking me then?

A couple or three seconds pass as I consider all this. My thoughts are interrupted by her voice again, "Sir?". I have to decide whether I want to dig into my pocket or not. Would it be OK to not give her the money? 'Come on fast', I think. I go with my instincts and decide that the straight face and the confidence with which she delivered her request tells me that she is used to making such requests. Maybe she is just wanting to bill her ride on a stranger willing to help. Circumstances do not seem to be dire. So, I just shake my head and say "I am sorry!" and roll up my window. Her face disappears into the auto and I look around to check whether the light has changed. It has not.

In the background of raindrops falling on my car roof, I think about whether I did the right thing. She did seem sweet, after all.


(To be continued)

No Discounting New Year's Eve

The Christmas to new year's week is usually filled with tension among those who want to put it on sale and those who come to buy it. On one hand are those willing to start their new year with a bang. They will shop till the ball drops. On the other, there are those who want bang for their buck. Bargain hunters will make sure they start the new year with 'new everything' with nothing more than a pinch on their wallet. Then there are those who will, each year, shop one last time before they step into the new year with a resolution to stop splurging altogether. The malls have something for all categories.

The weird thing, though, is if you want to stay at home on the new year's eve, you will not get an offer in just the right places. I was asked to register and sign up for promotions before I could access the downloadable coupons from a couple of top pizza houses in the country. And when I did download them, the fine print did not help my appetite- "This offer is not valid on 31-Dec-2009!" I am trying to recall if this is the case in the United States too. I guess they have special discounts on the turn of the year. Is it because the same chains in India think people here are less imaginative on new year's and would order more pizzas no matter what? Why then pass the opportunity to fill the orders, at full price, from home parties?

Hearing about New year's eve parties is one of the traditional catching up activities you do in the first week. After the first week, it's as boring as talking about last year! Anyway, as you'd have guessed ours was a 'nice' one at home. Sit at home, play with our son and order pizzas at full price; no offers! Don't get me wrong, for a bargain hunter is not really about money. Just like for a kleptomaniac, it is not about the item. Think bigger, it is a middle class value; more like a value game.

But for many the eve went better than they expected it to. For some it almost did. Here are some stories I heard...

One of my colleagues regretted that she and her husband could not go to Goa to one of the progressive trance parties where they ring every new year in. Later, on learning that, this year, the place got busted with a lot of drugs on site they thought it was a good sign of times to come.

Another colleague ushered new year in a resort and for unknown reasons (he thinks it is a case of mistaken identity), he and his wife received more than their share of hospitality. They could not believe their luck when they received as gift a 'three days all expenses covered package at a beach resort'. It was given as a reward for their loyal patronage. But, this was the first time the couple had even been to the city. Would you call that lucky start or what?

You have reason to be happy when you have free couples pass to, I was told, one of the coolest places to be in Mumbai. Named after an exotic amphibian, the place charges a high fee for its new year's party. If all a guy has, to take to the party, is another male friend, then he does not want to use the pass as a couples pass, lest he send out all the wrong signals. So, he should feel luckier that he gets two free passes to cover both the stags. Economically, as one colleague pointed out, this is a loss to a potential couple who could have instead gone free to the party with those two half unused passe. Anyway, this guy lands up and finds himself among TV celebrities and really cool crowd. Or hot crowd as he later corrected himself.

Having the time of his life, he lands up at the bar next to an attractive woman (his description was much risqué). Adrenalin and new years spirits propel him to ask her, harmlessly, if she would like to dance with him. He, however, is faced with the dilemma of answering the question- "How much will you pay me?" Got to give it to the honesty of the guy, unfazed, he replies "What are the standard rates at a place like this? I am new here." 'I charge twenty five thousand' pat comes the reply. Still maintaining his presence of mind and also trying some fishing, if not getting some more free airtime as well as taking a big risk on his reputation or judgement on class (But, no mincing words in Mumbai, they say) he says 'Isn't that a little too high even for today?'. Looks like this woman is ready for anything, she says 'For you I will give a 10% discount!'. That response, to me was simply Manoj T Shyamalan-esqe unanticipated. Tell me if you hear a better one than that in all of 2010!

Like I said, if you are into buying something, there is someone selling it for a discount on new years. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case with pizzas delivered home on New Year's eve.

Up and down in Mumbai

Mumbai, the big city of India, teaches you something new every day. The last six weeks have been full of hopes rising up and hopes falling down, traveling up and down, moving up and down and looking up and down.

For the most part of last three weeks, the small talk has revolved around the delayed onset of monsoons. Wiping beads of sweat off their foreheads, people glance up at the sky and shake their heads down in disbelief that rains have beaten them in to the sultry mid-summer. Kids though too happy to go back to school, also probably wonder when it will be called off for a day or two when the waters enshroud the roads and bring productivity of the city down.

My second day in Mumbai was spent learning firsthand the vicissitudes of life on a ‘local’. My local batch mates from IIMA-PGPX had planned a meeting, it so happened, on the day after I landed here. Living with a few relatives until I moved into the company guest house, I was left to figure out how I could negotiate the forty kilometer distance from uptown Borivali to downtown Colaba. The first evening I watched trains at Borivali station cough out people in a hurry and suck in people in a hurry. Two and a half decades back, as a kid, watching trains was apparently an obsession with me. After work, my parents would take me to the nearest level crossing where we would watch trains until they got bored or I stopped jumping with joy, or both. Watching what was going on in the Mumbai local station did not bring up any of those fond memories. Anyway, I had a task to do the next day and my wife’s cousin and uncle had one of their own that day. They had to ensure that their esteemed (tch! tch!) relative was well taken care of and trained enough to travel safely up and down the busy chest of the big city. The next day, while I had no problem getting to Churchgate, on the way back, I learned not to underestimate statements made with respect to the local. I had been warned 'let the Virar local go, you have to take the Borivali local'. But, I thought that warning was too much to be taken seriously at midnight. The Virar passengers take it to their heart that someone would take a Virar local to Borivali when the latter has a train all to itself, last stop Borivali. And they showed this to me the hard way. The carriage full of people standing on each other’s feet, would only allow people in and refused to let me out. (Stepping out and into locals is not how it works in India's city that never sleeps) Jumping out of a train slowing gathering speed, I learned it is never too late (read as never too restful) on a Mumbai local, time of the night notwithstanding.

Lifts, the ones that take you up and down, of all kinds is another thing that one needs to get used to in the Big Apple of India. Tall buildings are not built to impress; they are built to sustain. Sustain the ever growing population of the city that shelters (or not) the fourteen million aspirants and the arrived. But unlike many other cities, Mumbai had learnt many decades ago that it needed high rises. Hence, the variety of lifts in the variety of buildings. The modern one in our office is not always as predictable as the old collapsible-grill kind in the guest house building. The former, though computerized (ahem!) has a mind of its own. Back at the guest house, one has to remember that the lift is not automatic. And this learning did not come to me automatically. One evening, a bunch of kids rushed in shouting ‘wait, lift, uncle, wait’ (or was it ‘wait, lift-uncle, wait’?). I smiled and opened the door. The little people took over the charge of lift operations. They pressed some number and I said ‘Six please’. The little girl did not respond. So, I looked down at her and said ‘Six please’. A little irritated, she looked up at me and said ‘Uncle, this is not automatic. You press Six after we go out’.

Like I said, Mumbai (small or big) teaches you something every day.

'Life in a Metro' review

Full entertainment in the middle of the week. This is how I would describe my experience with this movie.

The theme explored in this movie is not new. Rajat Kapoor's 'Mixed Doubles' dealt with the emotions and feelings related to adultery in married life in a largely comical way. Anurag Basu has taken this a step further in dealing with adultery in married life, in work life and in alternative lifestyles all put together in one story.

The Indianness of characters is very evident from the first few minutes of the movie, starting with Monty's (later we find out, harmless) leching. 'Passing the apartment key' (though I remember this from a Hollywood flick I cannot recall) is another facet of Indianness when it comes to the sheer number of people using the key and the efforts put in by Rahul in managing everyone's 'needs'. The use of a BPO company, where Rahul works, for the background of the movie, may be not coincidental after all, since this group of people is the young upwardly-mobile face of Indian society. Without being judgemental about it, this group of people does have the benefit of opportunity as well as means when it comes to 'enjoying life' as shown in the movie.

The storyline has very intricately woven into it, two complex yet relevant issues faced by young working adults. First is that of that of marriage - a pull between love marriage and the arranged one and the confusions surrounding the choice of a partner. Second is that of hassles faced by gay people in leading their lives
normally. Basu has dealt with them lightly but without losing focus.

I would personally call this a practical film, in that the situations shown in the movie are close to real life. That a parody has been constructed out of multitudes of such situations including that of revival of lost love (Amol and Shivani) demonstrates Anurag Basu's skill in putting together an enjoyable adult movie. Tracing nine intertwined lives leading to a rather preditable ending, this movie entertains with inanities of young work life, lightsided portrayal of insecurities of the youth and gays and significantly the pointlessness of the search of perfect partner by young men and women. Shikha's character balances the film by raising (and partly answering) serious questions about guilt, fidelity and responsibility in married life.

Irfan Khan, playing the ever-eligible bachelor shows class in acting. One moment a lech another a valued friend to Shruti has played his part in style. Konkona Sen Sharma playing the traditional-wannabe-modern-but-confused-30-year-old-bachelor searching for the 'right partner' does justice to her role with her sensitivity; sometimes reminding you of Bridget Jones with her reliance on chocolate. Kangana Ranaut, Shilpa Shetty, Dharmendra, Nafisa Ali, Sharman Joshi and Shiny Ahuja are memorable.

If a message has to be taken out, then it would be 'reconciliation'- Shikha's with realities of her married life, Amol's with loss of loved one, Shruti's with practicality of finding love and Neha's with recognising love.

Some of my friends who watched this movie stressed on the exploitation in BPO industry. May be they are overly sensitive about the issue. This is a light-hearted movie and aptly certified 'A' since it deals with complex issues appreciable by adults. And this list of issues does not include exploitation in BPO industry, unless I missed by miles the point of this movie. My advise to them would be to focus on the fun element, sit back, relax and enjoy the show.

Parting note: I liked the music in the movie and the situational appearance of the band while the story is running. Thanks to 'no running around the trees approach'(director gave no scope for such inanities), I found the songs light and relevant to the story. The music would be quite enjoyable while driving, if you ask me; Silk-Route-ish.

All in all, two hours well spent after dinner!