Me and my capitalism

It was 2nd October, 6:00 am, Bombay airport. It was about Capitalism and the way I’m thriving in it!

The markets have run wild. Crazy times at Wall Street! I’m a poor Consultant and shouldn’t have a lot to do with this. Well, it’s not a lot. Except that when anything significant happens in the world, I find it difficult to keep my nose out of it, and end up feeling left out if it doesn’t have a direct impact on my life. So here’s how I got a little bit of the great banking crash into my life. I’ve met several bankers, brokers, traders in the last 3 weeks. Its co-incidental because unlike you’d expect, I didn’t meet any of these people in connection to employment in my firm (my lovely, safe, happy firm). These were just random meetings, over mail, beer, music and Facebook-- from ex-clients, to old classmates and friends’ bosses. And I’ve changed my mind a bit about them. They’re still the aggressive bunch of gold hunters that I always thought they were, but they’re fun too. Any way, I’m glad to be a part of the mess, in whatever insignificant way.

The other thing that has been on my mind is Affluenza. I was reminded of it when I picked up the latest issue of India Today. Affluenza is used to describe the condition of a growing state when its civil population is running wild to realize the quintessential American dream. Puzzled!

[Pth: I love most things American. I don’t like Bush, fried chicken and American chocolates. I like everything else. Actually I like most things American, European, South Asian, Japanese, Middle Eastern, Scandinavian, and of course, most of all, Indian! On my way back from New York last month, I got into a ‘1 vs. 5’ argument on how welcoming Americans are (Any argument where it’s me against 5 men is any way much fun!) I hear a lot of people Indians face a culture clash when they work in the US. I find this hard to fathom. I haven’t spent a lot of time in the US-- 10 weeks of investment banking in NYC and several one week stop-overs. Apart from that, my interaction with Americans has been limited to random conversations over Beer on Friday evenings. I do have 2 really close friends who are the whitest people I know. So American, but lovely! So I think I understand a bit.

And there is no place in the world, where I have felt more welcome. Whether it’s the immigration guy at JFK, or it’s the mid-western girl friend, or the big boss who now heads one of the big banks in India. They are all American; I’ve known them all in America and never felt better about being away from India. This against what the 5 men argued at JFK. What they said didn’t sound so wrong either.

“I feel out of place when all people want to eat is steak”
“I hate how they don’t understand my accent”
“They don’t know Bombay from Delhi”
“They are surprised when they hear me speak good English”
“They think we’re only software engineers” (Pth: This one is so true though. I’m at the Coffee Day at Bombay airport, and I bet if I randomly pick a guy and ask him what he does, he’s going to say he’s an engineer. Ok, you know what? I’m going to do it. *****************. Structures engineer from Gurgaon (What’s that?), here to finalize a place for their Bombay satellite office)

There is some truth in all this, but to cut this long story short, I think most of these things become a non-issue the moment you try to fit in. Of course the American in Dallas will not want to have Dal Makhani and Butter Naan with you every day! And if you’re obsessed with hanging out with desis while you’re in the US, cry away. This was my pet peeve in Singapore as well. There is a strong desi network in Singapore, and while that’s great, it prevents you from moving out and meeting other people- Indian, Asian or from any where else in the world. I miss every moment I spent with my friends in Singapore, but I know that my next transfer is going to be in a place which actually shakes me out of my comfort zone, and really is worth taking up.]

So after this long digression, back to Affluenza! The dogged pursuit of more! Addiction to prosperity! A condition of societal stress. Excesses in excess!

This is definitely the American dream, beautifully and seamlessly blending into the Indian mind. Affluenza manifests itself in the Dior clutch, the Armani glasses and the Tumi bag. In the 28 year old novice who destroyed Barings and the experienced men who led Lehman Brothers. In the college boyfriend who snubbed the inexpensive (but highly functional) phone, and in the love that left the rising city for the exalted one. In the first divorce in the family and in the constant questions on salaries. In the nasty one that yapped about her Chloe dress, and in the girlfriends that spent last Saturday trying to find a dress that’s classy and understated. And in a bit of what I do. My Affluenza is about pretty sandals, black blouses, white skirts , multiple magazine subscriptions, books I never finish, Sennhieser earphones, Clinique superdefense cream, 1,300 candles, coffee mugs and peg measures, air tickets, post cards, and lots more. We all have our explanation for it. I have mine. I love it!

Running away from Affluenza seems like an even more disaster-filled alternative. Wasn’t it desire that turned dust to gold over the ages? The idea of reversing this magnificent and relentless pursuit of growth is revolting. Would this airport be much fun if people were all dressed in unflashy clothes, the shiny, transparent blue umbrella at Coffee Day was a black, opaque one, and the economic dream in peoples’ eyes was replaced by a dried look of contentment and passivity? (Yes, I do love airports, and I will continue to do so. And I bought the umbrella. I have 5 transparent ones now. Happy)

My definition of Affluenza is slightly different from the conventional one. What I call Affluenza is probably a lot less acute than the stressful social condition I attempted to describe above. I like Affluenza, as long as it permits me to write, go without make-up, wear un-ironed shorts, love the way I do, tell a lie that I must, speak the controversial word, sing out aloud! The trick is to find a fantastic outlet for all the stress built through these desires. One that pulls you away from every Affluenza-afflicted part of your life! I love letting the desire build up, and then venting it out on Word, at Bombay airport 3 hours ahead of a 9 am flight. My Pink linen shorts, red chappals, hair undone (it’s a holiday!), great music, hot black coffee and type-hungry fingers make me a conspicuous exception to Affluenza in this setting. I love it, just as much as I love the Monday morning attire, when I’m difficult to spot in the sea of people, all dressed in black trousers, white shirts, carrying heavy laptop bags and ambition dripping out of their eyes. With that balance, Affluenza doesn’t feel like a menace. Remove unsustainability and stress from it, and its fun!


Something similar came up when at dinner (er…beer) with a friend the other day. Let’s call him FYI now. He wanted to me to give him a Chuck, or Tony or Warfield pseudonym. I like FYI. He might apply to school soon, and mentioned how he often wonders if he’d prefer taking the time off and working on a farm in, well…the South of France (hehehe, you know that isn’t true), where he’s originally from. I was 2 beers down when this conversation happened, but I’m pretty sure I encouraged him to go ahead with it. I wish I’d be as encouraging to myself. I often dismiss it by saying my job lets me do what I want. Except that I was working on 2nd Oct!


On this note, I love the new Max New York Life ad. They made an awesome come-back after the morbid Sanjoo ad, with the ‘Zyaada ka iraada’ ad. For the benefit of my friends overseas, its start with a cute curly-haired single guy dressed casually, looking longingly at this biker dude, who has a girlfriend holding on to him as he zooms past on his snazzy bike. The girlfriend gets distracted from her boyfriend as she catches a glimpse of a woman who’s spending a playful morning with her children. The woman who appears to be enjoying the kids’ tantrums, gets pulled away for a moment as she sees a beautiful diamond necklace a bald guy is paying for at the jeweller’s nearby. As the bald guy steps in to his car, carrying the diamond necklace under his arm, he sees the curly-haired single dude, and runs his hand over his bald head with hope filled eyes. The pursuit of more!


The music is Doorie (House Mix)! And now I know what freedom is- listening to Doorie House Mix after over a year, singing along, several times a day and not having to change the station when it plays on FM radio, and being able to put it on repeat………. because it means a lot else now!

Gaining no place, not moving at all

Friday evening....early evening...8:21 pm....I had desperately been wanting to spend this evening at home, with the folks.

The pride of saying No to the 'wrong' but the disappointment from the unworkability of the 'right' have together deprived my face of all expression, and the rest of me of all emotion. Then there was the joy of seeing some familiar faces, that I could tell were happy to see me. There was the tranquility in the drive back home- no Hindi movie music and no beer this evening. There was the Why not question, fading under the influence of logic, practiciality and some doubt and uncertainty too. No happiness, but no sadness either. Just dazed and confused.

The music....Dazed and confused

Great music

I've written a lot over the weekend, but don't feel like putting any of it up. Partly because its confidential. But more importantly, becuase its poorly written. I wrote about Affluenza, shopping, weekend plans, house parties, Monday evenings, The Market Cafe and lousy movies.

I'm going to post only about the music....... After the thrill is gone, by The Eagles

Confidence city

And the day I re-read the 'After Scotland Yard' Chapter, Delhi's shaken. 5 blasts across Connaught Place, GK and Gaffar market have rocked the city. All plans are cancelled, there are bloody scenes all over news channels, women are being carried to the hospital by the locals, cops are selfessly trying find the 9th bomb, messages are pouring in from friends and family , there is extreme quiet in the city. And then there are small things that have us worried.

And then we know, tomorrow those worries will come back. The city will be back and running. Alive and Kicking, as the cliche goes! Women will shop in GK, counterfiet mobile phones will be bought in Gaffar, the metro will run, house parties shall happen, the bodies will heal, may be the hearts won't. Really, will it all be normal soon? I don't care if its Hindus or Muslims, fanatics or normal people....they are trying to stop life in Delhi (Pth: I could go on about religeon, but its enough to say I'm a part of the camp that believes we should go easy on god). This is terror. When you're scared on going for a movie on the weekend, for a fanatic may be planting his next accomplishment there. Isn't that the entire purpose of what they call terrorism- to terrorize the shit out of a perfectly innocent and vibrant set of people! I don't think I want to let that happen to me. I'd rather die of a bomb in a bar, than of fear or boredom at home. Mighty aggressive statement from me! The fun and games shall carry on!

The music.....Khuda Ke Liye

In one day....

Happiness: Non-straight hair looks good
Sadness: Despite the diet, the skirt doesn’t fit
Happiness: Skin is glowing, all thanks to the toner
Sadness: No good music on FM this morning
Happiness: Find parking in L1
Sadness: Backpack breaks on the way from the car park
Happiness: 6 flights of stairs and no loss of breath
Sadness: Press the option for Cappuccino instead of Espresso, and not to waste
Happiness: Win music quiz
Sadness: Case work re-starts after a day’s break
Happiness: Finalize Wine tasting in Nasik
Sadness: Need to leave on Sunday instead of Monday
Happiness: 5 days in Goa that follow the wine tasting trip
Sadness: Not thin enough for new swimwear
Happiness: Apple pie for lunch
Sadness: The afterthought
Happiness: Sort out nasty email from
Sadness: New supervisor seems hierarchical
Happiness: Thursday beer appears achievable
Sadness: Parents call saying they expect me to accompany them to a wedding; beer plans cancelled
Happiness: The wedding is a friend’s and I get myself excited about it
Sadness: Turns out to be his brother’s, not his (Yeah, I’m not tuned in)
Happiness: Win foosball amateur level-I against 2 big boys
Sadness: Cancel beer plans to attend wrong wedding
Happiness: I like the smile.....
Sadness: I convince myself I’m being superficial. And succeed
Happiness: Leave office early, and drive in the rain
Sadness: Asshole taxi driver smashes the front of the car (extreme sadness followed by sobbing, followed by bawling- in the rain, on the highway, in a skirt, and a wet shirt, and more Gurgaon cabbies savouring the show. Bastards! )
Happiness: Mum and Dad are lovely, especially after accidents. And I am excused for not wanting to go for the wedding
Sadness: Still, the car. All the sweat and blood that went into buying it. Sob!
Happiness: Pizza and diet coke (Thin, whole wheat crust, with extra cheese)
Sadness: The 7 day diet becomes the 6 day diet
Happiness: School friend, who I haven’t met in 10 years, calls twice
Sadness: I miss his calls, and then can’t get through to him
Happiness: Its Friday tomorrow, and weekend fun begins
Sadness: The move is more real
Happiness: Nomadic life continues
Sadness: The sad moments it sometimes brings
Happiness: The excitement shan’t end so soon

The music.....Kiss Me....

My Oyster

Sunday morning, 4 a.m, just ended a IM conversation, potentially an asshole IM conversation. You know how when I'm sad, I'm really good to the world. And when I'm happy, everything, including IM is an asshole.

Coco Chanel one said “A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.”....lets make it three things: Smart, Classy and Fabulous. And the world is your oyster. Go on, and get high, and do whatever you want to do. Sounds familiar, eh? No? Google it!

The music....no surprises...The Cranberries

And today I want everything!!

So it’s the first time I get to spend 5 whole days in Bombay on this case. Although I had asked for a Bombay case, I got staffed on one that brought me to Bombay every Tuesday and took me back on Thursday. But this was a nicer, longer week in Bombay. And this week I landed here on Sunday. My friends from B school were here for 3 days. Yes, I did have some friends in Business School. While we’re on that, let me explain my relationship with my B school. This is a big Pth:

I wasn’t meant to go to Business school. I wanted to do a Masters in Arts, but as luck would have it, I cracked the CAT and got into this premier school. No mean feat, but I never thought it was my ‘aha’ moment. I don’t particularly like the world of business. So B school was actually 2 years where life went out of track, and I landed in a place where I had very little in common with people around me, in terms of background, outlook, dressing style, and dreams. But nevertheless, I loved some of those people. My job s such that it leads me to believe that life established its equilibrium by getting me this job, where although I talk business, I’m not constrained in any way. I’m free to follow everything I’m passionate about, and even develop new passions almost every couple of months. I’m free to dream. I’m free to not be a slave to time. Sooooooo….. some of those B school friends who I adore, were in town. And that brought me to Bombay.

So back to Bombay- Its Ganpati Puja today, so my client’s office was shut. My team is in Delhi and I’m alone, working (seemingly) from my hotel room. Again, I can never say this enough, I love hotel rooms. I love not having home cooked food. I love the ‘alone time’ I get even though I spent most of it working today. I love how I can always make myself a cup of chai thanks to the tea bags and the kettle. Hey, you know I love kettles too. Through college, I had one in my room (even thought I lived at home). I had one in B school. Mum gifted it to me because she knew it would bring immense joy to me. I had one in Singapore. And Malaysia. I had one hidden in my office drawers as well. It’s a wonderful reminder of the nomadic life I want to live. I find chai made on the stove a bit threatening. I feel domesticated. So back to my hotel room- I’m alone, hungry and full of thoughts.

I love the pillow I’ve rested my chest on while I write, lying on my stomach with this computer in my face. I wish I had such a pillow in my room at home too. I wish for a lot of other things…..

I wish the city of Bombay never loses its energy, and its big city lights that give me a fantastic view from this room
I wish the yellow envelope with the red star that shows up on my phone every time I have a new message, always makes me that happy
I wish I could have spent more time in Delhi University
I wish I was thinner….and my nose was thinner
I wish my curly hair would grow back without much pain
I wish I had a clearer idea of my dream and the way there
I wish all work-in-progress would end: my WIP slides, my client’s phenomenal WIP cost and every other WIP
I wish every parent would learn from mine
I wish every girl would use toner (Ok, I discovered it a month back, and really, wow!)
I wish Indian men would dress better, smell better and open their minds up
I wish the same for Indian women too
I wish there were more firms in the world that kept their people so happy
I wish the 2 year rule, which is actually a 1 year rule, was a 6 months rule. They say it takes 2 (read 1) years to settle into a new city, to settle into a new job and to get over someone you loved. I’d have more conviction about moving to Bombay, would have worked significantly fewer hours in Malaysia, and saved myself precious 6 months
I wish some people on the other side of the world would know, that evening actually ended well, and their tolerance that evening helped me wipe out a long period of sadness and doubt. And that I still think they’re great. And I still think I too am
I wish I was better at Poker
I wish I could post the 3 pages I wrote on the flight last week
I wish my laugh was louder
I wish ‘taking ownership’ was not just a tenet my firm is maniacal about, I wish it were a guideline for life
I wish people would stop talking about markets, bonuses and trades during Saturday lunches. Like some of us really don’t care!
I wish there were more people that appreciation for one’s creation gives far more joy than appreciation for one’s looks
I wish people around me would stop justifying cheating. Its NOT done. Call me uncool- Still not done (in my catty voice!!)
I wish yellow dresses never go out of style. And nor do short shorts. And big round earrings
I wish girls knew make-up is bad for the skin
I wish I understood smoking, even occasional smoking, is worse for women than men
I wish I had gone on exchange and not given that up like a fool
I wish Dire Straits had sung more songs. And U2. And Led Zep. Ok, Led Zep did a lot. So no
I wish Sanjay Uncle had lived longer, and I had been able to meet him again
I wish Shiv would be the same good friend again
I wish I wasn’t paranoid that the ‘I believe’ song is unlucky for me

I could so go on…..but I’ll stop. I’m clearly not clear on the difference between wish and hope….

I wish if I had just one wish, it wouldn’t be any of these. It would be that honesty never bit you in your face. And all ended well.

The music……Close your eyes…and Count to Ten, Ben Onono