If I had 2 extra hours in a day, how I would spend it

Let’s accept it that one would never have two extra hours each day (literally speaking), unless time is calculated in a different manner.

To a certain extent, I agree with people who say that one can make any amount of time for things that one really wants to do. Yet, there are enough moments when I feel the need for a few extra days before an examination, a few extra hours with my girl, a few extra moments when people shower praises and a few extra seconds to be able to catch the local train back home.

There is really no rocket science here. It’s human to desire a bit more each time.

In this piece, I shall touch upon a few interesting phases from my life and the way it led to a shift in my priorities. How these changes along with a new environment around me, led to different kinds of desires that I wanted to fulfil with two extra hours each day.

Single status stage: These were my initial months in the City of Joy when I had just come out of a relationship. On one side I was struggling with living along and new city blues, on the other side, there were so many girls in my college I wanted to be better friends with. Time was the key investment required here, so that I could locate a spark to help me move on with life. Sadly, something would always come up to eat into the precious little time I got to interact with the fairer sex. As days passed and the gloom in my life grew, all I wanted was a stretch in college time. Every evening, I would look back at the day and wonder if only I had a few more hours.

Bitten by the love bug stage: Then life took a turn. I entered into my first fairy-tale relationship with that someone special. With her next to me, I often felt like walking in the clouds even at a noisy traffic junction at Park Street. We were complete foodies and would spend hours exploring nooks and corners to satiate our taste buds. However, the Cinderella in my life had to return home before it was dark each evening. Though it was painful, I could never undo this eventuality. Our conversations would continue over text messages till it was time to meet up once again the next day. While we were certain about meeting the next day, all we wished was the sun spend a couple of more hours in the sky.

Working like a dog stage: No, I didn’t want two extra hours of work although it was my first job and I wanted to make an impression. I had my complete commitment till the time I was at work, even if that extended late into the evening. However, once I left office, I had no bandwidth to think of anything remotely work related. I would enjoy the remaining part of the evening with my friends, playing games on the computer, roaming around the ‘para’, having those endless ‘adda’s’ over tea, hogging on ‘puchkas’, etc. I would sleep late and would die in no time. But the damned alarm would buzz the next morning to wake me up into reality. In those moments, I would agree to pay anything if someone would give me two more hours to sleep.

Becoming the DJ phase: Yes, I had this phase too in my life. I was learning the tricks on the Denon pitch-control in a club in Kathmandu, thanks to a friend who was the resident DJ there. Every evening after completing work, we would meet at the club and play tracks alternately till closing time. People hardly visited during the weekdays but the weekends were packed to capacity. In a matter of days, I started getting a lot of attention from the regulars as well as occasional visitors. In those days of a different kind of high, playing the last track of the evening was the worst feeling. Often, I would put the last number on loop and dance along with all those few who were still around. A few more hours to spin my favourite tunes is the feeling I slept with each night.  

Current phase: Life is a lot more sorted these days except the commute to work which remains as a pain-point. Traffic in Mumbai and the sheer distance I travel each day, eats up almost four hours of my precious time. Reading and writing are the two passions I have currently. It is not always possible to read while using public transport. It is impossible to write. There are moments when thoughts pass by and all you want is to pen them down instantly. That moment if lost rarely returns with the same intensity. I feel like losing out on so much I want to express. I feel like losing out on so much I want to learn. Wish I had just those two extra hours each day.

Of all the phases I have had till now, this seems to be the most intense. But I do know that each phase had equally intense desires when I was in them.

There are people who end up finding time against all odds for things they want to do. Honestly, I am struggling to match the standards of these people. All I wish is that I had two just two more hours each day in the literal sense. Life would have been much better.

Do share what you would like to do if you had two more hours each day. Would love to read about your desires and where they emanate from.

Follow me on Twitter Rahul Chawra on Twitter

You should not be the weighted-average of people around you

This article might come across as a loose point of view on a serious subject about human psychology. Blame it on my lack of knowledge about the subject. I would appreciate any further inputs to better develop this piece.

One thing I have observed lately, thanks to digital media, is this tendency of people making an immense amount of effort to be seen around other people. This can be because of a genuine acquaintance between them. In case of both the parties being in good interaction terms (such as friendship, relationship, etc.), we would see them together socially without either forcing itself to be seen with the other. However in several cases I see one person trying hard to be seen with other people that he doesn’t share such relationship with.

One of the methods of inquiry into human psyche that I have learned is the one developed by Geert Hofstede. In this, one observes the symbols, rituals and role-models surrounding a person to gain a deeper understanding about him. In this case, a role model is not a single person that the subject looks up to. The role model in this case is the sum total of all those people that this person gets influenced by. Thus, we can assume that we are influenced by people in our surrounding, including those whom we consciously verbalize as our role-models along with others that we might not actually name as our role models.

The combination of these three factors is what defines our identity, says Hofstede. This is where argument lies. I am not saying that Hofstede is incorrect in his theory. What I am trying to say is that people don’t realize that they are being the weighted-average of others who are around them. While there might be merit in certain cases when they try and emulate others and inculcate characteristics like others, it is critical for them to find out who they are by themselves.

To give it a name, I would call it as 'unconscious borrowed identity'. Some might argue that why call it unconscious as the subject is actually making an effort to be with people around them and be like them consciously?

What I feel is that while the person might make an effort to spend a greater amount of time around people he wants to be inspired from, he is not always doing this with the intention of borrowing their identity. While he might feel that he is like them or could be like them, it is always in an external visible form that he wants to be seen or behave like others. A person would always feel that once he arrives as such position as others, he would be able to use his own identity for decision making.

Sadly, I feel that in the process, he becomes nothing else but the weighted-average of the people around him.

This is the reason for writing this article. I request people to look into themselves and check if they are themselves or just a reflection of others. There might be a lot of merit in understanding the reality behind this question. In case one manages to discover the true answer to this question, it could make a lot of things in life much simpler and better.

P.S.: Thanks to Puja Agarwal for pointing out that it should be ‘weighted-average’ and not ‘sum total’ or others around us.

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Even cynics Tab

The most difficult task for marketers is to convince the cynics. They usually avoid this step and move to the low hanging fruits instead. However, if one manages to convince the cynics the acid test is cleared.

Being naturally gifted with cynicism in abundance, I decided to test the Samsung Galaxy Tab 750s myself.

Unlike me, there are other kinds of cynics as well. Thus, the effort in this article is to run this product through this entire gamut and understand if even cynics Tab to the tunes of Samsung Galaxy Tab 750s.

My experiences and observations from this activity are as follows:

The first type in cynics is what I call as Truth-Deniers. For them, even Tide’s cleaning is not white enough, Mumbai locals are not crowded enough, Sony’s LCD Televisions are not flat enough, Amul Butter is not tasty enough, etc. They conveniently deny what others accept. If the world decides to stop at the red signal, they would want to walk. Even after their phone’s talk-time gets over, they would want to talk. If a contest were to decide who-is-the-greatest-cynic-of-them-all they would surely win.

Fortunately, this population is negligible in size as well as potential within the cynic universe. Their opinion on any matter is least important. Over a period of time, people realize that they need to believe the opposite of what this group suggests.

So, even if these cynics call the 750s as not good enough, we all know what the take-out should be.

Losers-of-all-hope is another variety; found in greater proportions as compared to the previous one. The word ‘hope’ got mistakenly deleted from their dictionary in school. When they grew up, even Google did not generate any search results when they would type this ‘hope’ as the keyword. According to them, nothing good can ever happen. There is no merit in making an attempt.

Their issue lies in their insulation from the world more than anything else. Since I know one such Gentleman, I decided to test things out myself. I showed him what the Samsung Galaxy Tab 750s was all about. Surprisingly, there was a momentary twinkle in his eyes before he went back into his shell of hopelessness. This change in expression, though for a brief moment, was enough for me to figure out what I had been looking for.

Another interesting lot within cynics is what I call as Screw-drivers. Found in decent numbers, they are driven by the desire to screw other people. They begin every sentence with a ‘But’, maintain a question-mark-expression forever and often end up displaying violent physical movements.

Maintaining a safe distance, I decided to begin a conversation with a female screw-driver. She said, “But it’s not slim enough”. I said it’s the slimmest. “But, it must be heavy”. I stated the fact once again. “But it definitely can’t be the fastest.” I held up a sheet of paper with evidence. Expectedly, what followed was an eruption. Since I was prepared, I made an exit at the right moment. Once again, I got what I was looking for.

A recently growing category of cynics is what I call Omni-Knowers. An encyclopaedia caught in human flesh. The truth however is that it’s only they who perceive themselves as such. Others don’t.

Their objective in life is to show that there is a little bit more that they always know. Whatever be the subject of discussion, whoever be the person during the argument, their knowledge and opinion is always marginally greater.

When I asked one such type if he knew about Samsung Galaxy Tab 750s, he said he did. The expression on his face showed otherwise. I was passing by after an hour when he stopped and asked me why I had disappeared in the middle of the discussion.

What followed was a long monologue about how the Samsung Tab was the best. I could make out that he had read up every single word from the website within that short period. He even used a couple of phrases from the promotion page while I happily giggled within.

The last type of cynics, according to me, is something that reflects my personality the most. I call this type as the Reason-to-believers. For people like us you need to substantiate your promises with valid reasons.

We are the types who end up suffering as well since advertisers keep feeding us with imaginary reasons to believe. If you tell me that a dandruff shampoo contains ZPTO formula, I would think of it as a wow and trust you. We keep sifting through loads of information to check if the claims are substantiated. We are the research types. We are the read-consumer-forum types.

I did my share of due diligence about Samsung Galaxy Tab 750s. Most of this analysis can be credited to fellow bloggers participating in this contest and who have painfully gathered all minute details.

At the end of it all, I feel convinced to own this Tab. What remains to be seen is whether I win it or buy it on the next increment.

Follow me on Twitter Rahul Chawra on Twitter

Void Moments

There are these moments of complete limbo which have increased in their occurrence lately. An effort to describe what I go through during such times would never provide a complete visualization to any other person. This is because my description emanates from my incomplete realization of the moment as it occurs. On every such instance, I am aware my being in it yet unaware of what I am going through. I guess I could describe it as a period of lack of complete awareness.

As I sit to write or rather meditate over it (post-occurrence), I am making an effort to arrive possible areas/ subjects which would have taken charge of my mind. Is it personal relationships which I am thinking over? Is it issues in my environment (immediate and distant) that worries me? Or is it a matter about existential questions? To be fair, I must confess that there are shades of grey that exist in each of these areas. However, how dark these shades colour my void moments and not the post-void-rationalization moments is the real question.

During a typical void moment, I tend to detract from everything, including thoughts about any of the above three scenarios. I don’t have a choice to physically distance myself and so I drift away mentally. While I am present, my mind is elsewhere. While I am listening, I am actually deaf. While I am seeing, I do not register. As I keep walking, I arrive back home without realizing or trying to get there. Guess the sub-conscious takes over and runs my functioning on an auto-pilot mode.

I am not irritated or worried with any burden. Nor do I make an effort to arrive at answers to questions that plague my senses at other times. These moments are certainly not about inquiry.

What does happen is: a manifold increase in my observation power. Things which are typically sheathed during the conscious observation process begin to show up. Yet, I see them only to see something else the very next moment. Without spending time over the discovery, I move on. Without making an effort in any particular direction, I ramble. Heading nowhere and being least worried about it.

As these events keep repeating, I feel that either causal theory doesn’t is incorrect or there is more to it which is beyond my comprehension and which only an external agent can analyse for me. Whatever be the case, I am never less surprised by the sheer lack of purpose of it.

Samsung Galaxy Tab 750 Launch - Live Webcast

Me and The Bag

As a kid, I used to hate bags. They reminded of school & studies and were heavy to lift. I got bored of the ones I ever owned and used to like those that my classmates owned.

Once in college, I got rid of them and carried those bits & books in my own hands. For occasional days with excess load, a carry-bag would suffice. Over time, I attended fewer lectures which wiped out the need for carrying a bag as well. A notebook folded and tucked in the rear pocket along with a pen borrowed from some friend was just enough.

Then I started to work and things changed.

My eyes opened up to the existence of the opposite sex and their mannerisms. Amongst other things, I observed how a bag was their faithful companion. My interest in bags revived, however this time they were women’s bags.

The expert that I considered myself in matters related to women, I took up the challenge of exploring the contents and the need for a bag to a woman, upon myself.

The exercise however was futile as it lead to no meaningful conclusion. Here’s why:

On covert observation, I found a whole world emerge from of these bags; much more than what came out from the churning of the ocean in Indian mythology. Some of the items that I had listed down were: a hair-brush, a bottle of milk, milk-powder, a bottle of Bournvita, a tetra-pack of juice, make-up set, nail-cutter, silk scarf, money, books, hand-towels, mirrors, laptops, hard-disks, torch-lights, deodorants & perfumes, sun-glasses, Tang, chewing-gum, dry and wet tissues, sinus tablets, asthma-pumps, mobile chargers, cigarettes, lighters and match-boxes, biscuit packs, chocolates, Maggie, credit & debit cards, a full length kurta, music-players, CDs & DVDs, etc. The bag could easily qualify as a bedroom in motion, without the bed.

The next round of investigation, which was more overt, was a complete failure. On asking these women about what all they carried inside their bags and why, I realised that I had breached the line of chauvinism and acceptable diversions. I resorted to ‘plan b’ which was an immediate stagnation of interrogation.

My inquiry about this mysterious object so close to all women had to be terminated midway, however my intrigue in the object remained. It was at this moment that I decided to buy a bag for myself.

However, there was nothing that I actually had to stuff inside this bag.

Time passed. I started with keeping the two books which I always read alternatively inside it. I also decided to re-unite with my passion for music and started carrying my head-phones. I had avoided them since they would entangle and break when I would keep them in my pockets. Next, my wallet and my access card went in. Then, it was the turn of loose change to find a place for itself. My cigarette case and lighter fitted in as well. So did the ugly black umbrella which I hated to carry around. A bottle of water and a deodorant were the latest additions.

With time, there were more and more items being added to the list. My journeys to work and back are now marginally better. It is still less than a month and I am already dependant on it. It is my little world which I get back to for every little adventure outside my cocoon.

This bag made me realise that I have taken up a futile endeavour to figure out what went inside other people’s bags. What is important is what you want to keep inside it and make out of it.

There might also have been a few men like me who would have made similar efforts in the past. In case there was more that came out in their process of discovery, please feel free to share. As for me, I have given up.

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My review of Chanakya’s Chant – By Ashwin Sanghi

Historical fiction is one genre where my exposure has been extremely limited. The only other book that I have read in this genre is ‘Cuckold’ by Kiran Nagarkar which was a fascinating read. Some of the other books which I have read fall under the mythological fiction and would not qualify as appropriate points of reference.

My expectations from Chanakya’s Chant were limited when I started reading. The book had a long list of recommendations from various people. I did not want to set my expectations too high and then find the text difficult to live up to it. However, as the plot began to unfold, my expectations kept rising. As it moved from one plot to the other, I began challenging the author’s skills to upload the suspense to some up with scenarios which were deeper. Thankfully, he managed to keep the excitement up till the very last page.

The book runs two parallel narratives: the first which is set in the modern day politics of India and the other which goes back around 2300 years when Chandragupta was crowned as the emperor of India. In one there is Pandit Gangasagar Mishra from Kanpur as the master plotter who guides a young slum girl from being nobody to acquiring the highest position in the Indian democracy; in the other we recount the story of Chanakya who trains Chandragupta and also plots the situations around him to make him the emperor of Bharat.

While one is historical fiction created around an actual person, Chanakya, the other plot is completely a figment of the author’s imagination. It is interesting to note that at no point in time does one understand the difference between reality and fiction in both the narratives.

Most India’s are aware about Chanakya and his ruthless intelligence either through reading the multiple books/ translations or through watching the television series which was aired. Bringing Chanakya’s narrative alive was a challenging task. However, this is nothing compared to the manner in which the author has brought alive the character Pandit Gangasagar Mishra. He is a person whose story is set in the modern day India as we know today, with people whom we relate to, with politics that we have seen or at times find difficult to believe and a sense of reality in the manner in which he behaves. Not even once did I think that this person is any less capable than what Chanakya had been. This is where I feel that the author has done a remarkable piece of work.

I guess that everyone believes that politics is a murky affair and that nothing tends to come in the way of ambition to achieve power. In the course of our lives, we do come across such politics in limited form in our own surroundings. However, the manner in which it is illustrated in this book, that it runs so deep, is like an eye opener.

It is also interesting to see how human beings have the ability to predict what other human beings think and thus manipulate their actions, is something that this book demonstrates fabulously.

I am all praise for the Ashwin Sanghi after reading this book. The language is extremely easy to read and the plot development is logically so strong, that one cannot think of it as fiction. That is the ultimate victory for a good author I feel.

My best wishes to the author and all success on this book. As I look up on the internet to place an order for his other books, I would like to recommend this to everyone who reads this article.

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