Driving License

I recently got an Indian driver's license. People here call it a driving license. Getting my license took many steps and much time, combining hilarity and insanity.

The process of getting an Indian driver's license can be summarized as a big charade. A license is an official government document, so there has to be real process with a real institution behind it. But as I learned, that process is highly bendable and even breakable. What was even more stunning was how hard it was to not bend the process. In other words, going through the process by the book required going out of your way to such an extent that it made attempting it highly unusual and/or insane.

How do I know this? It just so happened that my friend Shital was attempting to get her license at the same time I was. Shital is from the U.S., so we faced similar technical difficulties in getting a license. My approach to address the difficulties was to work through an agent, who provided you instruction on how to drive as well as steer you through the process of obtaining the license with the RTO (India's DMV). Basically, an agent is a middle man who has special relationships with the right people at the RTO to get your license in a frictionless way. Agents are not illegal; in fact the RTO pretty much endorses them. Shital decided to try without an agent. She rightly argued that using an agent is participation in a corrupted system, and the system will not change unless people resist it. More on how that turned out later.

My agent was named Bablubhai. He has a driving school (code for agency) on Ashram Road. Bablu was recommended by my rickshaw driver Narendra. My main criteria for an agent were dependability, quality of instruction, and cost. Bablubhai said he would get me my license without any trouble or delay. He gives the best instructions in town; students from one of the competing agencies nearby even come to him for lessons after failing to properly learn the first time. The other agencies teach in crappy cars, he gives lessons in a  higher-end Honda Brio. He seemed professional and confident.

Bablubhai's driving lessons consisted of 15 sessions of 30 minutes each. My instructor was Bablubhai's 20-something employee Chirag. Chirag and I would meet in front of the driving school, hop in the Brio, and go meandering around the area, driving in normal traffic so I could get a feel for it. Lot of the complexity in learning was taken away because I knew how to drive stick-shift; I could just focus on learning the ways of Indian traffic.

Much has been made about the chaos of Indian traffic, how there are no lanes and people honk lustily while avoiding cows and carts and cycles. How bigger has right of way over smaller, the exact opposite of America. How there is no "letting someone pass" or regard for traffic rules, and the culture is dog-eat-dog. All of this turns out to be true. In fact, my instructor Chirag would remind me of this constantly. He knew I came from a place where there was order and respect for rules. His catchphrase was "Kai 'rules and regulations' nathi" ("There are no rules and regulations").

I got the hang of the roads relatively quickly. Overall, I learned two main tricks for driving effectively and safely in India. The first is to drive slow. There is so much stuff happening around you. If you're driving fast, you may not be able to process everything in time and so your chances of mishap increase. The easiest way around that is to just drive slow. No one will honk at you for it, they will just maneuver around you and keep moving. The second trick I learned was to not look at any rear view mirrors. If you start looking around, you will freak out because there's all kinds of shit happening. It's better to keep a narrow focus and drive straight. If you mind yourself and don't make any sudden movements, everyone else around you will basically do the same thing and you will all get through it.

In Indian driving, there are no mistakes. People aren't going to get upset when you linger after a light has turned green or you brake suddenly. There's so much chaos that anything "wrong" you do at the individual level just blends in with the rest of the chaos. It's all part of the game, and there are no mistakes.

One of the most important and non-intuitive things to realize about driving in India is that knowing how to drive is a totally different matter from getting a license. In the U.S., the system is that having a license proves you know how to drive. In other words, the system is set up so you can't get a license unless you know how to drive. That's not how it works in India. In India, it is possible to get a license without never having driven, let alone being comfortable on the road. In fact, many people get a license, and after that seek out lessons to learn how to drive. This ridiculous situation is borne out of the fact (or perhaps reflects it) that the RTO is corrupt and fundamentally broken.

A few lessons into my learning I scheduled a time with Bablubhai to go to the RTO and get my kaachhu license (learner's permit).

The RTO in Ahmedabad is a deceptively huge building on aptly named RTO Circle near Ranip. Inside, it is a damp dingy labyrinth. As I walked through the various dark corridors looking for Bablubhai, I glanced into room after room full of dreary gray shelves to the ceiling full of old stained papers and documents. Around these shelves sat agents relentlessly doing paperwork.  Stacks of papers all around them, not a single computer in sight. I met Bablu, who led me hastily through this and that corridor. Bablubhai is a little man who moves like a torpedo missile. I had trouble keeping up with him. As he walked he would engage people he knew with a warm smile and how-do-you-do chit-chat. He talked a mile a minute. It occurred to me that Bablubhai's job was predicated on maintaining as many good relationships with as many people in the RTO as possible. We eventually entered one of the stacked rooms and parked in front of a fat man doing paperwork. Before we went to him, Bablu had advised me to not speak unless spoken to, and to let him do all the talking. My case was a bit sensitive because I was a US citizen and so didn't have any local ID. But with some sweet talking Bablu got a signed paper through that let me take the test for a learning license.

A few days earlier, Bablubhai had given me a book to study for the multiple choice test. I would have to answer 11 of 15 questions correctly about traffic rules and regulations. Instead of giving me a book of rules, though, Bablubhai gave me a book of all the questions (with answers) that would be asked on the test. If I just memorized all those questions, there would be no problem passing.

And of course he was right. I got called into the test room with a group of others. The room had computers in cubicles against all four walls. We sat at the cubicles and took the exam. I sat down and got question after question, each of which I recognized. I didn't have to even finish reading the question or read all the answers; I had memorized the location of the right answer. It took me 3 minutes to answer the first eleven questions I saw correctly. I went outside and around the corner, where I collected a crudely laminated black-and-white postcard sized printout of my photo and some identification details. I had my learner's permit!

I had 15 guaranteed 30-minute lessons with Chirag, but ended up only going through 13 because I had gotten the hang of it and a month had elapsed since I got my learner's permit, so I was eligible to go for my paaku license (official license). So on a Wednesday I showed up at 8:30 sharp as per Bablu's instructions to the RTO to take my road test.

I walked into the RTO's big dirt parking lot and found a buzz of activity. There were clusters of people, maybe 100 total, around 5-6 parked cars that belonged to a number of agencies around town. I found Bablu's cluster, he was busily filling out forms for all of his students who had shown up for the test. I tapped him on the shoulder; the look he gave me indicated he'd forgotten he had asked me to come. He pulled out a fresh form and scribbled my details on it. He asked if I knew how to drive a two-wheeler (motorcycle/scooter). I panicked; why the hell was he asking me that? Is it a part of my driving test? I was thrown off because he should know the answer, he was the one giving me driving lessons. I told him no, and he hung his head for a second. Then he said, "Don't worry, I'll handle that part of the test for you, just stand where I tell you to stand." As he scampered away I caught him and told him I wanted to do the test the "right" way; I didn't want any special treatment. This was a promise I had made to Shital, who inspired me by not giving into the corrupt agent system. He brushed me off. Sure sure, you will be taking the same test as everyone else.

As I stood around waiting for Bablu or someone else to tell me what to do, I noticed that some people were there for a car license, others for a two-wheeler license. The two-wheeler tests began first. Bablu stood next to an RTO agent, handing him a form from his stack to test each of his students one at a time. The two-wheeler test was ridiculous. You had to drive a motorcycle in a small figure eight in front of the RTO agent. That was it. It took no more than 20 seconds. Some people couldn't even do the figure eight, one lady could only take the cycle straight and couldn't turn. She drove into a crowd of people, braked just in time, got off the bike, and walked it back to the instructor. I think she passed. At one point Bablubhai handed the agent a form and then got on the scooter himself and did a sad stunted go-through-the-motions figure eight. I was pretty sure he was taking the two-wheeler test on my behalf.

The car test was just as absurd. I was able to go first out of Bablu's students since I was the NRI. We formed a line next to Bablu's car and a path was cleared 100 meters long ahead. The test was to drive in a straight line for those 100 meters. I got into the car with an RTO instructor in the passenger seat and another in the back. The one in the back sat with the stack of forms and handed the front agent one at a time to administer the test. I got in and buckled my seat belt, and waited. The agent, with no preamble, told me to turn on the car and drive forward. I did that, but worked slowly to not mess anything up. He was in a bigger rush, so he kept urging me to speed up. I started driving forward gingerly, making sure that I don't stall out the car. The agent said, "Go go!". The car had the two sets of driving pedals since it was an instructional vehicle. The agent put his own foot to his pedal and carried us to the finish line. I asked him if I should reverse back; I had noticed from other tests going on that people went forward and back. "No, that is all. Please sign this paper, you are finished." I signed and got out of the car. I wasn't even sure if I had passed, the agent didn't indicate one way or the other. I walked over to Bablubhai and asked him if that was it. Did I pass? He replied, "Well, did you sign the form? You can go home now."

Three weeks later, I got my license in the mail. It felt triumphant, and I was proud. On the other hand I looked back at the process and it felt like a big joke. Any fool can get a license, you don't even need to know how to drive. I used low-level corruption, and even worse it seemed like it was the only way to do things. Poor Shital is still in the process of getting her kaachu license; the first time she went to the RTO, they refused to let her take the computer test because she didn't have a document proving she had a residence in Ahmedabad (even though she did). They said her rental agreement was invalid because it wasn't notarized. Unfortunately she couldn't get it notarized because her landlord was in the U.S.. She argued with a number of people until she made it to a hidden room in the RTO where the head man sat. He was sympathetic to her cause, but one of the lower-level ladies refused to let her go on a small technicality. Later Shital returned to the RTO with notarized documents, only to be refused by the RTO worker because the date of notarization wasn't within the required timeframe.

On the other end of the spectrum, another American friend of mine (who will remain anonymous) walked into the RTO and out with his official license in hand in a single day. His process even bypassed the agent. Without taking a single lesson, without taking the computer test, without even waiting for the license in the mail, this friend knew and paid off the right people in the RTO and completed the entire process (which took me two months, and has taken Shital 5 months and counting) in a few hours.

Getting official documentation to drive in India is just like driving in India. It seems broken and arbitrary, but in spite of itself it continues to work.

Manav Sadhna football program

Editor's Note: I wrote this a few months ago for Manav Sadhna's 2013 annual report. A shorter version may make it in there, but wanted to share the full version, which captures the program and children's stories nicely.

Overview

The MS football program began as a humble, informal practice organized by some football-loving volunteers with a small handful of children. Two years later, it has become a full-fledged program within Manav Sadhna. Many of the children have been a regular part of the program for over a year, with a deep commitment and a genuine passion for the game.

There are currently roughly 31 children in the program. They range in age from 8-16 years. The main activity of the program is a weekly practice on Sunday morning at Manav Sadhna. This practice has been happening regularly for over a year. The children warm up, stretch, work ball drills, play small sided games, and usually end with a match splitting all the children into two teams. Practice ends with a brief coaching session and nutritious snack.

As the children have improved their skills, they have also participated in city tournaments and other more competitive programs.

Going forward, we aim to provide the football program with a dedicated ground with enough space to practice all aspects of the game without disturbance. The children will also be given more chances to play in larger and more competitive venues. Finally, we will look to increase the number of children in the program, including younger children as well as girls.

Practice

Every Sunday morning, 15-35 children come for the main football practice. Another 4 children attend Sunday practice irregularly and/or have just started coming regularly.

The children come from various neighborhoods of Ahmedabad: Powerhouse, Jamalpur, Wadaj (Ramapir no Tekro), Ashramshalla (Manav Sadhna). Several of the children come from Jamalpur, a slum area on the opposite side of the city. To make the 7am practice, the children wake up at 5am, board a bus by 6am, and arrive at the Gandhi Ashram by 7am. It is the children’s commitment and passion for the game that drives them to wake up early on a Sunday morning to come and play.

Practice typically lasts for 3 hours. After a warm-up run and stretching, the children work on ball skills and passing through drills organized by the coaches. The emphasis is on ball control and teamwork. The children are then led into small-sided games and keep-away. Key aspects of the game, such as shooting and set pieces, are also practiced. Finally, all of the children are split up and play one large match.

Once a month, practice is shortened and a filmed professional match is screened for the children inside Manav Sadhna. Having little exposure to top-class football, these film sessions are critical to helping build the children’s model of how the game can and should be played.

At the end, the practice is recapped and the children get an opportunity to share about what they liked and didn’t about the practice, and how to improve. The coaches offer some guidance, and then a snack consisting of fruits and biscuits is served.

Outside of Sunday practice, the children informally (but regularly) practice on their own. Scrounging for balls around their neighborhoods (all of the program’s equipment is kept in a locker at MS), they find and patch old discarded balls and play. Committed to improving their skills, they organize themselves into drills they learn on Sundays, in addition to fun matches.

The Manav Sadhna football program is coordinated by Rahul and Neil. Rahul is a staff member at MS and also runs arts programs for the children. Since a young age, Rahul has had a deep passion for sports, especially football. However, as a child he was never given the opportunity to play. Now, as a coach, he plays through the children. His dream is to have a player compete at the Olympic level. Rahul is the backbone of the football program. He rides his bicycle from several kilometers outside Ahmedabad every day to work at MS. Whether it’s a weekend or holiday, you can always count on Rahulbhai to be there to help and put in effort with the utmost sincerity and care. He shows tough love with the football team, being strict when they make mistakes but being generous with praise when they show well. Neil is a volunteer from the US who grew up around the game of soccer. He is thrilled to have the game in his life through this program, and is committed to seeing it reach and benefit any child at MS who is passionate about the sport.

Kahaani

In March 2012, the MS football program connected with Kahaani Football Academy, the premier children’s football club in Ahmedabad. Kahaani’s director, Manisha Shah, has been a huge supporter of the MS program. She offered Kahaani’s large grass sports ground to MS for Sunday practice. This is a hugely valuable opportunity for the children, who normally play on confined dirt patches in the Gandhi Ashram. However, travelling to the grounds has been a challenge, with so many children to manage safely. When available, the players and coaches take MS’ Khushi bus to Kahaani for practices.

Tournaments and Exhibitions

Kahaani has also graciously included MS players in football tournaments that they regularly organized. In January, 6 players from MS (U-13) participated in the tournament. They played two matches on mixed teams with Kahaani players, playing against others from all over Ahmedabad. It was a great opportunity for the children to taste competition with players beyond their own teammates.

In March, Manav Sadhna organized an exhibition match at Abhay Ghat. All of the children participated, split up into two teams. The field was chalked out and goals with posts and crossbars were erected. Teachers, family members, and fellow MS students filled the sidelines and cheered both teams on with flags prepared by the coaches. The match was a rousing success, with high-quality play from all the players.

Equipment

All of the children in the program have soccer equipment (1 pair shoes, 1 pair shin guards, 1 pair long socks, 1-2 shorts, 1-2 jerseys) that they keep and maintain themselves.

A significant amount of the equipment have come via donation from people around the world.

The initial donation came from Football Action in the UK, which sent balls, jerseys, cones and other equipment that was critical for the program to launch.

However, shoes were still in short supply. Later, an individual walking through the Ashram spotted the children playing barefoot, was moved, and spontaneously wrote a cheque to cover shoes for the first batch of players in the program: http://theorganicindian.blogspot.in/2012/01/shoes.html.

Later, Andria Caruso, a volunteer from Michigan, was inspired to organize a clothing drive for the children. She ended up collecting over four large boxes of donated shorts, jerseys, shoes, socks, sweats, and jackets: http://theorganicindian.blogspot.in/2012/09/andrias-drive.html.

As the children play on harsh conditions, shoes and balls get worn down relatively quickly. Manav Sadhna has stepped in to keep the supply of these two critical equipments in supply for the children. In addition, Manav Sadhna has procured a first aid kit and has covered the costs of the snacks since the program began.

Program Successes

The most compelling indicator that the children find value in the program is their sincere dedication to practice and playing the game. Despite the difficulties of travel, playing on dirt fields with dust flying, being constrained by the lack of area, the children play on with no complaints. They attend practices very regularly, only missing them when they must study for important exams.

One shining example is Dasarath, a player from Jamalpur. Dasarath comes from a very challenged family background. To earn for himself, he works as a sweeper and rag picker. This work requires him to wake up early in the morning daily to do sweeping before he gets ready for school.

Dasarath is crazy for football. On Sundays, he still has to do his work. So he wakes up at 2am and works until 4am. He comes back home, gets ready, and goes around the neighborhood waking up and gathering the other children. He then leads them on a run for several kilometers to the main bus stand at Paldi, where they catch a bus the rest of the way to make practice on time.

The children have improved their skills as football players significantly since they began. Starting from scratch, the children could not dribble or pass, let alone understand spacing and movement. Since then, the children play with skill, combining discipline and creativity. They diligently work in drills as well as play matches. They listen to the coaches and take their advice seriously. They have truly become students of the game. During film sessions, the children used to grow impatient, only wanting the see the goals. Now, they patiently absorb full 90-minute matches, appreciating the subtleties of build-up, defensive positioning, spacing and movement, and set pieces. They model their style of play after FC Barcelona, using quick and precise passing to break down their opponent.

Robin, one of the program’s more talented players, was invited by Kahaani to join their academy. Our vision is to send one child from the MS football program to the Indian National Football Team.

Team sports certainly imparts many valuable life skills. These children have markedly improved in their teamwork, cooperation, patience, and communication during practices. They have become proud and self-confident as athletes and young people

Looking Ahead

The future is bright for the Manav Sadhna football program. With the successful development of our first group of children into formidable team players, MS will look to expand and improve the program in a few key areas:

• Expose the children to more competitive playing opportunities. Enrolling them in camps, tournaments, and academies that let them grow their passion and skills for the game. This will require financial and human resources for coordinating participation and entrance fees.
• Construct a dedicated grass field for the children to train and play matches. With limited space in the Ashramshalla, the children cannot fully develop their skills. They need a large dedicated practice field. Ideally it should be grass, since the dirt fields lead to the children breathing in large amounts of dust as they play. Manav Sadhna has identified a field and cleared some debris, but more funds are required to finish the project
• Improve the nutrition of the children. They are served a snack after Sunday practice, but they require regular nutritious meals to keep their strength and grow at healthy level.
• In the harsh conditions that they play in, the children require regularly replaced equipment including balls, shoes, socks, jerseys and shorts.

Resources

A blog provides regular updates about the football program, with videos and pictures:

http://theorganicindian.blogspot.in/search/label/football

Beautiful Day

I had a hall of fame birthday last Thursday. It started in the morning with Surya Namaskar and an hour of meditation with Nimo and Anji. Roshan kindly cooked a homemade breakfast of powah and sprinkled sev. There were grapes on the side. Mom called and sang me Happy Birthday in a very sweet way, I wish I recorded it. Jay and Dad sent their wishes as well.

I was instructed by Anji to cancel all work-related appointments in the afternoon for some surprise activities. Nimo and I left the flat and met her and Jose at MS. I was blindfolded and led into a rickshaw. Anji lost her chapals and in Gandhiji style wanted to leave them for the lucky prizewinner. But we circled back and they were still there. Throughout that great day the bounces went our way.

We took a long rickshaw ride and after a while of trying to track it I got disoriented. We crossed a bridge, but there was no traffic so I had no idea where we were going. When we got out I was led up some stairs, I thought we were entering a mandir. Then we passed a security checkpoint and entered a large A/C cooled room. Definitely a mall. But that was all I could deduce because by then Nimo had tied a mobile phone playing music over both of my ears. It was a wild experience hearing two different songs at once like that, like you're at the club and the DJ's mixing a transition that never completes.

We got to where we needed to go and I sat for a while waiting, still blindfolded. Then I was given some heavenly banana-flavored juice through a straw. I got confused thinking I was back at someone's house because it tasted like one of Nimo's homemade smoothies. But then I was led through some corridors and into a room and asked to lie down on a bed. When I took off my blindfold I found myself in a massage parlor!

Jose had gone to this place at Alpha Mall earlier and had raved about the massage. I had never gotten a professional massage, so I was curious. It was really awesome. The misuse was incredible. It was a full body massage. I had to strip down into some disposable underwear and this woman was touching me intimately, but I lost the shyness after she started loosening my calves and shoulders. She went neck to toe. I wanted her to focus extra on my right ankle, right groin, and shoulders, three problem areas for me in recent years. But after an hour session she had worked so hard, I felt it was selfish to ask her to do more. In general I felt awkward about the experience because there is a lot of taking and no giving. But I walked out feeling great. I really wanted Nimo to get a massage, he would love it.

Then we went for lunch at Creamer's in Prahaladnagar and did brain teasers on the menu while we waited for our food. I felt 13 years old again, which is always great on your 31st birthday.

Then we headed back towards home and I told the friends I wanted to stop by the office. When I approached I notice the shutter was down, which was odd, but I didn't think much of it. Then I opened the shutter and was met by a loud CRACK! firecracker. And the Awaaz.De team came out and surprised me. The office was done up very elaborately, a huge leap forward decoratively from what we had for Chirag's birthday. We cut a Ferrero Rocher cake and hung out for a while. It was great, I really appreciated the team's spirit.

From there I went to Ba's house and cut the third cake of the day with Ba and Gita phoi. First thing I did when I came in was touch their feet and get their blessings, which they gave. I got emotional hugging Ba, which was unexpected. I just love her a lot. Especially since Jay was here, I have come to understand, respect, and love her much more.

We chit-chatted for a while, and then I headed over to Seva Cafe for the last stop of the day. The AD team and other friends were going to serve dinner that evening. Little did I know but the entire menu for the evening comprised of my favorite foods. Anji and Roshni had done some background work with Jay to include some of my favorites. We had tacos with refrained beans, fresh pico de gallo and sour cream; pasta; mexican rice, khichu, FBI without the ice cream. I was a little embarrassed because I have the food tastes of a 13 year old. But again, that's good on 31.

There was live music by Sandeep and one of the guests serenaded me with a song in a semi-awkward moment. The 4th and final cake was cut in a special ceremony. Shital and I teamed up to make tacos in the back all evening, after some time we were really approaching Taco Bell efficiency. It was hard work since we were behind on orders the whole night, but people couldn't get enough of those little delights. The shells we used were called tacoz shells and pictured chef Induben giving the standard stiff Indian mean look photo face. We served 56 guests. At the end of the night after the volunteers staff had cleaned up and ate dinner, I gave each one a small Tulsi plant as their goody bag.

It was a fantastic evening. I went home and meditated to complete the day in style. It was a full and fun day. Most precious was the time with friends who have come to be family. I look back on my 31 years and feel most fortunate for all of the great friends and love I'm surrounded by. You all are truly my wealth.

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
-- Maya Angelou

Meltdown

Last week I had a mental meltdown. The night before, I got locked out of my apartment. I had my keys, but the door was jammed and wouldn't open. I called my landlord, who was indifferent. He couldn't be bothered by it, saying that I should just jiggle the key or find someone local to fix it. I am a hassle-free tenant, I never call him about problems. So if I'm asking for help now, shouldn't he assume it's a real problem? Plus I had a flight to catch the day after, so I needed to get into my house asap. Eventually he agreed to send a locksmith over the next day to have a look.

The next morning I went to the office early because we were launching an email campaign and had to get it ready on time. Roshni and I were doing final tweaking when I got a call from the landlord saying a locksmith was coming to the apartment. I couldn't be there, but MAM had a key so could the man just grab the key from upstairs? No, the man will be confused so better to have Madhu bring the key down. Odd request, but I called Madhu to ask him to help out. He always picks up his phone, but this morning he didn't. I called Meghna, but she also didn't pick up. I called both again, still nothing. Madhu texts he's in a meeting, but Meghna was home to give the key. But she typically is not near her phone because she's taking care of Reva.

Not able to get a hold of her, I thought about quickly leaving the office to meet the locksmith. Unfortunately there was a rickshaw driver strike that day so no driver was willing to take me. Then I tried calling Mom to see if she could go instead, but she wasn't home and also wasn't picking up her phone. I called the landlord back to say I couldn't get a rickshaw. He said there isn't a strike, there should be no problem getting a ride. So now he was calling me a liar. I told him to ask the locksith to get the key from Meghna upstairs, it's a simple thing to explain.

Meanwhile we're scrambling to get the email campaign ready. I get another call from landlord saying that the locksmith had gone up to get the key, but Meghna didn't give it to him, not knowing who he was. So the locksmith is now gone and I should not waste the landlord's time and to figure it out on my own.

This is where I lost it. All of the things that went wrong, combined with the fact that had even one of the series of things gone my way (Meghna picking up, Mom picking up, no rickshaw strike, the landlord caring, the locksmith calling before he took off, etc.), the worse case scenario would have been avoided. That with the fact that the landlord was being a jerk, basically calling me a liar, giving me a hard time for something that was his responsibility, the time-sensitive work at the office, the general frustration of being locked out of your place for a reason beyond your control, all of it combined made me totally flip out. I yelled at the landlord and stomped around my office, feeling pissed and helpless and dejected.

Eventually things calmed down. Later that day the door got fixed, the office work got done on time, and I later caught my flight. That same day I went to an office next door to ours, which belonged to an Uncle who ran an architecture firm. I had heard from Narendra that the Uncle's eldest son had recently passed away from an unexpected heart attack. I went up to pay my respects. Uncle was in his cabin with his younger son, who had come from Australia. I shook hands with both and sat in silence with them for a while. Both of their faces were dominated by an unmistakable striking look of utter shock. They were both looking at a reality that they couldn't fathom or accept. We talked a bit about nothing at all. I still remember Uncle vividly, whose eyes and mouth were painted thick with grief, sketching idly on a white paper with a black pencil as we sat in silence.

Meltdowns don't do anyone any good. They are a personal failure; all the time I invest in being a mentally resilient person are wasted if I can't be balanced when put to the test. Giving in to meltdowns tie deeper and tighter mental knots and set a precedent for future meltdowns. They also show a lack of perspective. Here I was getting bent out of shape over an incident that will be inconsequential in a few days time. It's a drop in the ocean of my life experience. Meanwhile there are much bigger and deeper challenges that I and others face. And finally meltdowns plant seeds of suffering in others around you.

What's the upside?

Artiben

Artiben is mine and MAM's cook. A few years ago, Artiben's husband Prabhatbhai was in MAM's house doing some handiwork. He overheard Madhu and Meghna discussing how they needed a cook. Prabhatbhai said his wife Artiben was available, though she was young and had no experience. MAM gave her a shot; it was one of the best decisions they ever made.

Under the tutelage of Meghna and Mala Aunty (Meghna's mom), Artiben honed her craft. At the beginning she was raw talent, burning things and putting too much salt or oil. But soon she developed the fundamentals, then started making signature dishes. By the time she started cooking for Nimesh and I, she was making a wide range of nashtos, many excellent shaaks, and a couple very good daals with her special touch. But her most unmistakable ingredient is love.

Artiben has a very kind and caring nature. She quickly became close to all of us, especially Meghna who considers her a sister. Artiben cooks for the group of random strangers that come to MAM's for our weekly meditation gathering. Most in her position would raise issue with cooking for non-family members, at least demanding more pay for the extra work. But Artiben flipped the script. Moved by the concept of people coming together in the spirit of inner development, Artiben takes a vow of silence once a week, and quietly pours extra love into Wednesday meals. It's her way of joining the circle, and every week we take a moment to thank her for her contribution.

While Artiben has meant a lot to us, she has meanwhile transformed herself and her family's entire trajectory. After starting to work, she gained not just skills but tremendous confidence. Her husband was an alcoholic who sometimes wouldn't provide for the family. With her own income, she took over the family finances and established stability. She was driven to do whatever it took to get her two sons Aakash and Ama the best education to provide them the best future. As she saved earnings, she began upgrading her home. A few years ago, it was no more than an alleyway between two other houses in her slum community. Her first investment was a waterproof roof. Then she tiled the entire floor area. Then she added a cooking platform, and then a cooking gas and stove (a really big deal in her community). Most recently, she bought a locking chest for household storage. A house literally built with her hard work strength and perseverance. Even Prabhatbhai has been positively effected by Artiben's example. He's come out of his drinking issues and even joined for Wednesday meditation a few times.

Last night Artiben invited me, MAM, Reva, Mala Aunty, and Meghna's brother Chinmay over for dinner. Artiben had planned it for a week, and had spent the whole day preparing the meal and her home. We entered the home greeted by burning incense and welcoming smiling faces, and sat on a carefully scrubbed floor. Aartiben cooked all special dishes: puri, batetu shaak, chole, pulao, and khir with vermicelli. There was no question she was going to go all out for us, but for a family of such modest means, it was beyond a generous offering. As is customary, Artiben and family did not eat until after we left. So we all ate, chatted, and watched Reva play with her best friend Aakash. We commented on how amazing the home looked, and Maddog and I marveled at Aartiben's kitchen which was organized so well to maximize the little space she had.

It was a real joy to spend this evening with Artiben and her family. She is such an inspiration to me, and I'm so proud of her. It is a blessing to be a part of someone's life, even in a small way, who is succeeding despite the odds. I'm especially grateful that she has brought a positive spirit into our households. Often in India there is tension between residents and their domestic help. Underlying the tension is class divide and lack of mutual respect. Thanks completely to Madhu and especially Meghna, we have been able to shatter those barriers with Artiben. We have complete trust in her, and she in us. Beyond trust and respect, there is genuine caring and love, and a recognition of opportunities for mutual learning. She is truly a family member, and serving her is as important as her service for us.

Thank you Artiben, for being a daily inspiration to us.

Football Freestylez

The 49ers beat the Bears this past Monday night. Nimo is a Bears fan, and is also a rap legend. He and I often communicate in freestyles. Over the weekend we had a battle over email.

Before the game I wrote him and Shweta (Bears fan by default) a rap titled "Get Your Game Face On":

Candlestick is the site
for a battle under the bright lights of Monday Night
Two behemoths clash,
it's not your typical cat and mouse pounce and dash
It's rather,
a grizzly-azz BEAR lurking looking mean
huntin a bearded man-pan-handlin for gold near a stream
This will be the test for A dot Smith
Is he the real deal or is he a stiff
will he stand tall or will he flee
or will he drop a seed for randy MOSS growin on the Crab-APPLE-Tree
Urlacher? More like the Hurt Locker
Put the fear of God in you like a FACEBOOK STALKER (Shweta)
It's a test-est for two of NFC's best-est
At the end we'll see who's made of steel and who's made of asbestos
As for me? I say it's the Bears who are gonna need a medic
Because the NINERZ got Gore and I'm not talking the Indian sweet that makes you a diabetic
Frank the Tank, the new Garrision Hearst
Wears you down with has feet pounding and is prone to burst
down the line in a fix he goes for six
leaving defenders in the dust wondering how he made that twist
He's strong, the Ninerz strong, it's gonna be DA BOMB
Sooooo, all I gotta say is,
YOU BETTA GET YOUR GAME FACE ON

After the game Nimo wrote back in response:

Wow, what can i say,
whether its neils freestyle
or how the niners played
its like gold, but in 2012,
and thats straight,
1849 was just another date,
they takin it across
the new millenium
from jim harbaugh
to amitabh bachenum,
all i can do is be humble in my ways
a poor bears fan, who just sits down and prays
that things brighten up through these winter days
because hibernation tends to be in our ways
but we'll change, i got hope and i know,
it ain't over till the last whistle in the superbowl
so don't count us out like all the analysts
on espn, cuz thats our catalyst
to grow, change, evolve and burst
and bring back that defense that had that thirst
and in the end we'll see who ends up in first
until then any given sunday is the way it works!

in deep humility,
bears fans 

Sports and rap are two of my passions. Combining them is highly delightful. I envision an entire genre of literature ("Sports Freestylez") where fans, professional athletes, and rappers battle with each other. You got a Football Freestyle in you? I'd love to see it in the comments.

Diwali Postcards

A few memories from Diwali 2012 that I'd like to capture:

Jay left back for home on Diwali day, Nov.13th. On Sunday night me, Hasit, Shital, Shweta, Charmi, and Joserra had a farewell dinner for him at "The Burrito", one of Ahmedabad's few Mexican restaurants. Hasit asked Jay to give a pre-dinner and post-dinner speech. As Hasit said, he wanted Jay to do it specifically because it's the last thing Jay would want to do. And he didn't. Instead we went around the table and said one thing we liked about Jay. I said I liked how good Jay was about keeping accounts and bills in order at Awaaz.De. It sounded lame, but Shital inferred the deeper meaning: Over the course of the past 9 months, Jay has done many large and small things that have had an influence on me and our company. Some of then, like our accounting, flow below the surface and so they go unnoticed. It's once you go beneath a bit do you see the kind of work and impact he has had on things.

Over these past 9 months, I was most impressed by Jay's adaptability. He came to a country that is very hard to adjust to. The food, the air, the people, the way of conducting business and everyday interactions. The first time you spend extended time here, you are really just trying to survive till you can finally go back home. At least that was how I was when I started coming. But Jay got in, and though he had his share of difficulties, he went beyond surviving to thriving. He adjusted as well as you possibly could, getting to a comfort with this place in a few months that took me years to get to. Living with Ba was its own huge adjustment. To live with her peacefully, you have to fully surrender to her schedule, way of eating, sleeping, and cleaning. Jay did all that without complaint and on the other hand developed a healthy respect, love, and admiration for Ba's way of living. That's not ordinary people stuff.

The night of Jay's flight, he stayed in my apartment to have a quick ride to the airport. We hung out with MAM till 11pm, his rixa was coming at 1:30am. So we set the alarm and went to sleep for a couple hours. Only I woke up at 6:45am and Jay was gone. No "can you help me bring down my bags?", not even a goodbye. Just left with no fuss, and let me sleep. That's vintage Jay.

I spent Diwali with Ba at her place. The night before I had been anonymously tagged with rangolis and diyas in lovely decoration in front of my apartment door. I decided to pay the rangolis forward and do the same for Ba. She was resistant at first, but we got a couple compliments from neighbors passing by so she let me do a second one. She also liked the floating rangoli that Chiragbhai's wife made. So there was a bit of festiveness to the house decor. There was also 24 hour fireworks that ran throughout the night. It was mind boggling because they continued the next morning when it was light out and you couldn't see them.

Las memory hasn't been made yet. I type these words as my last task before going into 2.5 days of silence and meditation. Thanks to Meghna for taking care of my food while I sit at home. Thanks to my family for supporting me in all ways to get me to this moment in my life. Thanks to you all for reflecting light in your own ways in your own lives. Like so many millions of little Diwali diyas dancing outside my window.