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Thursday, October 23, 2008

I, Stammer

After an extremely long orientation period, I finally begin to work on my job, and it isn't as easy as I thought it was. There was a time I used to pride myself for the choice words and ingenious metaphors I used whenever I spoke.

Part of my job is to get contacts. Networking. This requires me to pick up the phone and call up influential people and tell them about myself and ask them if they are interested.

Today, I made my first call.

Watching Will Smith talking on the phone to various customers in "Pursuit of Happyness" makes tele-comm look easy. But today, after 15 minutes of preparation, All I was able to do was stammer and slip through a sorry explanation of Shalom and what I do.
Thankfully, the person on the other end was patient and listened (I felt an incredulous smile) and asked direct simple questions that would make me feel better.
After I finished with the call, my heart-rate at twice the speed, I thought to myself. I'd get better...

I'd better...

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

721

he mini-van I used to take to work burst a tire on the way, delaying me five minutes. The only option was to get into another bus, to make it at reasonable time. The only bus available was the 721. Reputed for the most irate conductors and the densest crowds.The bus was packed beyond compare. The Mumbai locals at rush hour are DEFINITELY more comfortable than the 721 (emphasizing my opinion in the previous post.) It was this young short, loud-mouthed bus-conductor who tried to push people into the smallest crevices that made all the difference. I guess the more people you can squeeze into the bus, the more you're are respected as a bus-conductor in these parts.I climbed in from the rear entrance amid the usual clamour. Once in, I decided to stay near the rear-door because my stop wasn't too far. The conductor issued the ticket. He was standing on his 'conductor seat'! (guess, he was a little short) and yelling at everybody to move into the already crowded bus. He began pushing and shouting at me in unrecognizable Hindi - I figured he was asking me to get into the mass of flesh in front. I just stood there, and quitely told him that I would be getting down at a few stops. He again said something in loud Hindi that I couldn't understand. He began pushing another person who refused to move. The conductor's unrecognizable hindi was buffetted with another tirade of unrecognizable Hindi - this time on the part of the indignant passenger. The passenger later berated the conductor about the pushing. The conductor quickly justified himself.
"I am the conductor. I have every right to push you. If I don't push you, who else in the bus will?"
I need to check the "right to push" part with the Judicial system. Anyone have the time to file an RTI to check if the conductor does have a right to push?
After that conversation, the conductor cooled down and began to collect tickets normally. Suddenly he looks at me and says.
"Remember, I won't let you get down this entrance. You'd better start making your way to the front, or you'll never get down at your stop"
(And I thought ragging got over after college!)
I tried politely making him understand. But he didn't seem to be in the mood for explanations. I'm not the sort that makes a lot of noise and puts up a fight, so, I put my tail between my legs began my journey to the front of the bus.
With a barrage of excuse-me's and sorry's I pushed, jerked and shoved past indignant old people, understanding and co-operative young men and disgusted young women. There is no place to put your feet down. Even the hand-rail is full of people's hands that it is a rare opportunity to actually touch that rail! I was so surprised I reached the front just in time for my stop. The conductor in front gave me a glare and asked said."What are you doing here?"
I really felt like giving him a good dose of my sarcasm, (the question was sooo tempting) but he had quite big arms, and I was already late for work. I smiled and told him that I was there so I could get down. Disarmed, he stepped aside and let me down. I breathed fresh air and instantly knew it would make a hell of a post!If I ever meet that conductor again, I would definitely want to thank him for letting me tour his bus for free even in the peak season!

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Bombay vs Delhi

Another Delayed Post (Was supposed to post this in Bombay, but I am not famous for being organized)
As a guy living in Dwarka, travelling in a mini-van to work, shoulders touching the low roof, my neck, back, knees and every other part of my body bent double, and eyes in a perpetual frown, concentrating on not bumping against that low tin roof everytime we hit a bump, I thought I had seen it all. (If you thought that was a long sentence, brace yourself.) The noise of some constant fight in the vehicle, the sweaty shoulder against your chest, the stench of his hair in your nostrils, tells me that this is the most uncomfortable way to travel.
Bombay gave me a new perspective. Watching hoards of people with different goals walking in the same direction at top speed, managing not to bump into anybody though even lifting an arm to scratch your head would mean elbowing the guy next to you. There is an extremely loud silence amidst all this rush (only experience can tell you what that means) at the VT train station. The crowd is bigger than a Delhi one, and could be very uncomfortable if it was a Delhi crowd, where there would have to be someone shouting at the other for some obscure reason.
People in Bombay walk twice as fast and talk at around the same pace. While you are focussing your mind on trying to keep up with what people are saying and what they mean and how you can keep up, someone's hand has already been in your pocket and has left it empty.

A true Mumbaikar can do anything from setting up a shop on the roadside to making friends to bargain with the guys at fashion street without any emotion. He sets a goal for himself and will not let emotion get in the way. Even if he is accidentally pushed by someone in a crowd that he falls on his nose, he would get up, wipe his shirt, maybe hurl a few abuses and move on.
A true Delhiite however, lives on emotion. One cannot drive a car, or get into a crowded bus or haggle with the auto-guy without a display of emotion. (preferably aggression). The emotion itself is a fierce sort. Love is expressed by fighting against the friend's enemies; Jokes are cracked with an angry faces.
While Bombay has evolved into a cut-throat cosmopitan, Delhi is still a giant village, in many ways. There is no sense of anonymity. Sure, some mumbaikars stare (sometimes I think they're actually Delhiites on vacation) but not as much as the Delhiites. My female readers (who've visited Delhi) will agree with me. Forget the usual sexually-frustrated male lechers, numerous as they are. Even a 7th Standard Delhi girl in the bus would stare at you constantly for five minutes (or more) sweeping you from head to toe with her eyes, making you wonder if you have worn your shirt inside out.
In conclusion...
I don't want to draw any conclusion on which is a better city. Each city has its flaws and its strong points. I prefer Mumbai to Delhi (guess it's because I've been there first) but I would love to hear someone with differing opinions.