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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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‘Kissa’ of my Car #3 (when I became the consumer)

This is the third post in the series of entries detailing the mental turmoil I am going through while convincing myself to buy a car. You can figure out the earlier entries if you try hard enough.

After having convinced myself, my parents and the people around me about my decision to buy a car, I experienced this feeling of extreme calm. That night when my parents teamed up with my decision, I dreamt of myself sitting in a 70mm theater watching myself drive a car all alone on the screen. It wasn’t a slow motion sequence. It was extreme slow motion. I saw my hands on the steering wheel, the road was endless without any sign of any other vehicle and the sky slightly overcast. As I rolled down the windows the heavens wept in joy. Chilled droplets of water gushed inside and touched my face creating a sensation throughout the body.

And since it was a dream, I have no clue when it got over or led to another figment of imagination. When I woke up what remained, was a pleasant memory and a question: what car was I driving?

I tried really hard to recollect. I could afford to spend time on trying to think over my dream as it was a weekend. I took it a step further and decided to sleep off once again hoping that I would dream the same dream all over again. Sadly, I didn’t.

So the question remained. For a moment I felt that my situation was similar to that of those young girls who would imagine their knights in shining armour driving down from the heaven on a white stallion to set them free. In their case, there would usually be a bright white light that would make it impossible for them to see the guys face. In mine, it was just memory lapse.

However, as I kept thinking more about the car that I had seen in my dreams, my vision of the world around myself with the cars in it changed.

As I stepped out of the house for the first time that day and walked past the cars parked outside my building, my speed slowed down. Till now they were just vehicles that belonged to others in my building. From now on, they were cars. They had probably always been in existence, but now they were alive for me. Now they were a part of my world.

Before I reached the end of my lane, I felt that my eyes were moving along with every car that was passing by. It was as if a magnet attracted some piece of iron.

I smiled to myself and looked enjoyed this new way of looking at life. I always thought that I could observe things closely. However, I had never explored this dimension of my faculty. The days that followed, saw me observing more and more cars. Asking questions such as what is a beautiful car and what is an ugly car? While travelling in the bus, I would stare outside the window more than concentrate on my reading. I tried to understand why a car was named what it was and how cars were different from each other?

This new phase of calm was an eye-opener and let it pass slowly. I enjoyed each moment as I always saw something that I had not explored before. This was my trip.

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‘Kissa’ of my Car #2 (when I became the consumer)

This is the second post in the series of entries talking detailing the mental turmoil I am going through while convincing myself to buy a car. The earlier post can be accessed here: http://advertisinginsight.blogspot.com/2011/06/kissa-of-my-car-1-when-i-became.html

By now, I felt that I had convinced myself. Or was it really?

Arriving at a decision is anyways difficult for Librans (that is me). My sun-sign aptly visualises my mental conundrum using the beam-balance, which keeps oscillating between two opposite sides.

On top of this, taking decisions about important events such as career, matrimony, purchase of an expensive asset, etc. in India; acquires a completely varied dimension. In such cases, your choice needs to be tabled before the family, friends and peers in the social and professional circles for approval. A thorough analysis is then carried out by these experienced and opinionated ones who most often are not even a part of the Google+ circle; yet hold the position of key influencers in your life. The matter is duly considered by them. Somewhere in this process, they also ensure that your choices are conveniently forgotten. Over time the judgement is passed. Usually it isn’t in your favour. And you can do nothing against this ruling.

I have two key sets of audiences to convince: my parents and my friends & colleagues.

My parents felt that buying a car is an eventuality predicted in my charts. However, considering this purchase at the current moment is like throwing a challenge at my destiny. I need to wait till the time is ripe and the stars occupy the apt positions in the sky. I should concentrate my efforts on building assets such as gold, life insurance, mutual funds, house, etc. for now.

I had somehow predicted this response and kept my rebuttal ready. The speech was a mix of emotional drama and functional reasoning. I dropped the emotional weaponry first by narrating my gruelling bus journey to work and back each day in a public bus. At times I would not even get a place to sit. On days with bad traffic, which are common in Mumbai, the journey would last eat into around five hours of my time in the day. The icing on the cake was when I mentioned how I felt like forcing myself to eat dinner after returning home.

Seeing positive reactions on their faces, I decided to launch the functional reasoning. I argued about how I should spend my hard earned money on repayment of loan which I was currently spending on uncomfortable public transport. I told them about how I could drive them over to meet up with various people on weekends and also have a social life for myself which has almost reduced to zero.

I guess they were convinced even before I had launched my functional argumentation. Parents being parents can accept anything other than their seeing their kids in any form of pain. Having completed the first part of my struggle, I decided to initiate my discussion with the next set.

One would wonder why is it important to seek approval of friends/ colleagues while buying a car. I faced the same dilemma, yet I could not stop myself from seeking social approval from people around me.

For me, the reason to do this is because of my faith in the law of karma. I want my progress and success to be perceived as an outcome of my hard work and efforts and not a sudden jolt of luck. As per the law of karma, one needs to do enough of good deeds to be blessed with goodies in return. The perception I wanted people to carry about me, is that my car is an outcome of years of toil and not a sudden change in fortunes. That is exactly how I confided my intentions into the ears of the people around me. I used my collection of stories about hardships and that would leave a long lasting rags-to-riches image in their minds.

Having conquered both the audiences, I had successfully managed to cross the second hurdle to reach my long cherished dream of owning a car.

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‘Kissa’ of my Car #1 (when I became a consumer)

I don’t own a car as yet. So this entry is not about ‘my car’ per se. The fact is that I am not even close to the final stages before the purchase.

These entries are about what I am going through currently – where I am trying to make up my mind and circumstances around – before taking the final leap. Not sure when that would happen. Till then, it would only be process talk. But I promise to omit boring details. That is not the intention here. Thinking about buying a car has turned me into a helpless irrational kid. These stories about how logic gave away. How I stopped being an advertiser and became a consumer with a heart that beats to the tunes of emotions. How I am going about convincing myself, each day, that I am not about to make a wrong decision.

The first question was – WHY?

Can I afford a car? No.

Do I really need a car? No.

Do I want a car? Yes.

I felt stuck at this third question every time.

Considering my current income (which is petty) and my current liabilities, I am not in a position to afford a car. Also, owning a car in a place like Mumbai can become a headache more than a matter of convenience. I don’t have a place to park the car at home. I will have to wait in traffic in the same way I do while when I am inside the bus. Also, the expenses do not stop once you buy a car. They barely begin. You get into an endless spiral of additional costs such as repayment of the loan, fuel costs (which thanks to our government increases at a lightning speed), maintenance costs, costs of a better lifestyle (which you become a part of once you own a car), etc. Then why is it that I behaved worse than a stuck record – telling myself I want a car anyhow?

On thinking over this, I realized that the reason for the desire to drive my own car has gone beyond reason. I become a kid every time I think about sitting on the wheel of my own car. I think of the days I spent as a small child with an enviable collection of Hot Wheels cars. I go through all those days when I would safely keep my cars inside a glass shelf which would be locked from outside every time my friends would come home. I always wanted to own a car as a child. I used to die every moment when I would see my friends sitting in the comfort of a car along with their parents. I hated myself when I would arrive somewhere all sweaty and dishevelled while others would look as if they had just walked out of the shower.

Mentally the target was set at that young age. I had decided this as one of my ambitions, though it is by no means a lofty one. For me it was always Them vs. Me in which Me could only become Them by owning a car.

Today the Them of those times have disappeared from my life. However, their shadows have remained. My memories of the struggles from those times have remained. My circumstances have improved vastly but my ambitions have remained the same.

I feel that once I own a car, I would win this little battle within myself. Maybe it would seem like meaningless waste once it is over. Maybe I will feel that it was not worth at all in the first place. Maybe I will realise that the battle was not about Them but only about Me. Maybe I win over Them in this battle but lose to Me. I don’t know what the future holds. But I am entering this battle for sure.

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