I am now increasingly feeling that homes have become FMCGs. Their shelf life is comparable to a detergent pack in a store. Prices however are more dynamic, comparable to stock markets. This is surely benefiting the builders – no wonder those who were once making soaps and towels are now getting into real estate. Where does it leave the buyer? Unlike telecom, when it exploded benefiting buyers as well as sellers, home has been pathetically prejudiced toward the seller. Drawn from real life experiences, I hope you would find this post interesting and revealing.
“Please be early tomorrow, unlike the last weekend wherein we reached the site post noon and that flat had just been booked” says Anita, 29, a banker to her husband Prashant, 33, working for a telecom company. Married for 4 years now, last year they finally decided to buy their own house before starting a family. Prashant ignores Anita’s comments knowing only too well that the builder had raised the rates by another 200 psft from the time they last saw the property some three weeks ago and not finding the desired flat was not the reason why they discarded the property. Or to put it correctly, the property discarded them!
On the ride towards New Bombay Anita keeps looking at the watch and cursing the distance and the traffic. They live in Andheri and are today visiting Belapur to check out a property. When they finally arrive at the site, what they see is a large ground, partially dug. A watchman asks them to make an entry. Prashant scribbles under the columns till he arrives at “Who do you want to meet?” He stops, and writes, ‘Lodha’ wondering if these registers are ever checked. They walk towards the sales office that has a close resemblance to a shipping container. Outside the container, there is a shamianah with a row of tables. On the tables are maps, brochures, note pads, calculators. While walking through the shamianah, Anita can listen to the salesmen talking of what sounds like children reciting chants. The prospects are looking down on the maps listening attentively to every single word. Very rarely they ask a question. Most real estate salesmen opening pitch answers 90% of the questions of all buyers. Many buyers then ask what has already been said. Everyone wants reassurance.
Anita wonders if she has to sit under the shamianah to buy a house of 50 lakhs, which she assumes is a decent budget for a 2BHK in Belapur. After all it is Belapur! Beyond civilization. She is ushered inside the container, which is air conditioned. Prashant wonders if this treatment had anything to do by their arriving at the site in a car. Three salesmen occupy the container. They seem to be senior as they wear ties and jackets. (Anita thinks ties and jackets mean seniority. She visualises her favorite restaurant). One of them looks up and gestures Anita to have a seat while he is dealing with a mid aged couple with a pre teen son who looks bored. Anita and Prashant overhear half of the pitch while waiting. 15 nine storied building of one, two and three BHK. Optima, Ultima and something that ended with ma. Anita soon realises how much she wants to be a ma and if she could have any of these ma then she could be a happyma. Her thoughts are interrupted when she hears something that sounds like sixty lakhs. She looks up trying to peep on to the paper where the senior salesman has his finger and the mid aged couple have their eyes transfixed. Almost immediately the couple gets up and leaves the container.
The salesman smilingly looks at Anita and offers her the chair opposite him. Prashant is confused if he is ignored or irked by the salesman’s special attention to Anita. “How can I help you?” is the first thing he says with a broad smile. “We are looking for a house”, is Anita’s reply wondering what on Earth would she be otherwise doing on a Sunday inside a container in Belapur. Without bothering to ask any further questions, he starts with his script.
“Premia is builder’s third project in New Mumbai.” Tilting on his seat he shows pictures of two other buildings built by the builder as some kind of a proof that even Premia would be completed. Some day. “15 nine storied building of one, two and three BHK. Optima, Ultima…. What are you looking for?” A baby is what Anita almost hears herself saying when the salesman changes his question to, “What is your budget?”
Now this is one of those questions that makes home buyers feel really insecure while the sellers are unable to talk any further without its answer. Buyers think that if they really reveal their budget, would the salesman negotiate if the final number is below their budget? On the other hand they also think that if they do not reveal what they have in mind, then he would show them a smaller flat that they don’t want or a larger one that they can’t afford. Salesmen don’t know what to show till they ask the question as each flat type has sometimes a different brochure and and always a different floor plan, availability etc. Hesitatingly Prashant says “45-50”.
“In which case let me show you Optima which will just fit your budget. 695sq feet 1.5 BHK. We are offering a rate of 5750 with a 30 rupees floor rise. So lets say, you take it on the 5th floor, it comes to 52 lakhs all inclusive.”
Prashant takes a closer look at the excel sheet and notices ‘infrastructure cost’. “What is this?”, he asks.
“Oh, this is (all smiling) development of the property, club house etc.”
“So is it not a part of the rate?”
“No Sir, it is separate”. Prashant waits for a qualifier and gets none. He turns back to the excel
Anita interrupts, “Can we see a sample flat”? This time the salesman is really smiling – meaning you know when one is really smiling. “Mam, there is no sample flat. We will make it”
“What % of flats are sold?”
“70%. “
“So why will you make it?” The salesman smiles sheepishly.
“This does not include car park?”
“Car park is separate mam. We are not selling it at the moment?”
“But why?”
“Corporate Policy mam. When we are open to sell it, we will inform you. Right now we are just selling the flat.”
They walk out, almost as abruptly as the middle aged couple before them. Outside they see people writing a cheque under the shamiana. People are buying.
While driving to the next property, they sit silently in the car. After sometime Anita says, “How can people buy without seeing a sample flat?” And without a car park? Don’t they get it? Once they have bought it, they will have no other option than to buy at whatever price the builder is offer the car park.” Prashant is silent.
The next few properties of never heard builders have similar issues. None offer a sample flat so one is not sure of the builder’s vision too.
Later in the afternoon the couple drives into something that seems big. There are a few cars parked outside and more inside. They sales office is a drastic contrast to what they have seen during the day. It has a garden outside with Christmas decorations in the lobby. Walking into a lobby, Prashant notices lots of young girls in suits and a couple dozen prospective buyers waiting like we do for flights.
Almost immediately a girl walks up to Prashant and asks him to fill in a form. Prashant scribbles boringly. The girl takes the form and places them under a heap. He understands why everyone is waiting. He looks for Anita warning her that this may take time and is unable to find her. He then notices her in the next room that has two huge replicas of the two wings of the property. Anita is keenly observing and when Prashant joins her, explains part of the replica. “How did you know that this is a natural water body?” he asks. “I was listening while that guy was explaining to these people” pointing to a salesman and a family.
Suddenly they hear an announcement followed by a few people clapping. Perplexed, they move to the next room that has a small auditorium which is showcasing a 10 minute film on the property. Beyond this room are sample flats. Finally! Anita is quick to move into one of them without bothering to look back at Prashant who is still wondering if they should be going in alone or with those escorts waiting at the entrance. Anita behaves like a child who was given a long awaited toy while she devours the sample flat. The escort quickly following them inside explains which of the aspects will be present and which wont be in the final flat. Anita is impressed as the rooms of a 1.5BHK are also spacious. They always are in a sample flat is Prashant’s explanation. “For example, look at this bed. Do you think we could fit in. They dupe us by placing a smaller bed in bedroom so you see lot of space. Lighting, mirrors do part of the trick. Sometimes the flats are bigger too as opposed to what one would get. Once done with, they come out to see an executive waiting for them to talk numbers.
This one in a suit himself takes them to a secluded table and offers tea which the couple happily accept. His explanation of the property is drab but the highlights are that this property is more like a township with hundreds of buildings and thousands of flats. Most are gone but they can find one of their choice if they really want to buy. They mention 5th floor and the salesman looks up his papers. “Are Sunil, 504 hai ki gaya?” “Block kiya hai” is Sunil’s response. Again an announcement and a round of applause. Prashant asks, “Ye kya hai?” “Sir when people book flats by paying the token, we make and announcement and congratulate them” Anita and Prashant look at each other – both thinking about the same thing. ‘In less than 20 minutes, they heard two applauses – so two flats sold!’. They should not be delaying.
They like it, and now is the turn for the excel sheet. Prashant notices the infrastructure cost again. He stumbles when we sees ‘grilling cost’.
“What is this grilling cost?”
“Sir cost of grilling.”
“Yes I get that (sounding exasperated), but what grilling?” Sir, the grills outside your windows? That cost”
“You don’t charge for taps and tiles?” The salesman ignores the remark.
Car park is available, but at 4.5Lakhs! Prashant wonders at what price he bought his Zing. Bombay could perhaps be the only place where car parks are more expensive than the car. Its like paying more for a safe locker in a bank than the worth of what is in the safe.
The couple now realise why the rates are comparable to that in the nearby suburb whereas this place is in the middle of no-where. Plus they don’t like the builder’s fleecing attitude. All the costs of these salesmen and women in suits is paid by the buyer. They move on, unsure.
For the next site, they keep asking for directions but seem lost. The operator at the sales office does not believe in offering an opinion and only answers in yes and no when called for directions. Finally, when they arrive at the second site, they read a sign that asks them to remove their shoes as they walk into the sales office. A man who could rather have a better future as a Shetty gangster, gestures them to sit down. And a long silence follows.
After a few uncomfortable moments Prashant says, “We want to enquire” Almost immediately our gangster friend starts chanting, “2 and 3 BHK apartments, 3 buildings, blah blah. “How many floors? Prashant enquires.
“Nine, but we are selling up to six only. “
"Why?"
“Because we have got OC for up to 6 floors only.” Which means for those innocent readers who are unaware of the jargons, that the municipality has not given them permission to build above the sixth floor and the builder is happily building it hoping to get permission later. It also means that the building may never be able to form a society since all the members will not have an OC from the municipality. Without a society, it may be difficult to get a loan and other amenities from municipality. Prashant wonders whether the builder is corrupt or the salesman an idiot to say this to prospective buyers.
During this a couple with a toddler enter the office and ask, “Sir, we came to deposit the booking fee for 1BHK.” The salesman says, “But we have not opened 1BHK. Once we open it, we will call you” “But sir, you can take the booking amount now and enter my name as soon as you open it”. “No, we cannot do that. We will give you call and let you know” “Will you do that Sir? Surely? “Yes, Surely”
The salesman starts from where he left and explains the rest of the script. But neither Anita nor Prashant are listening. Anita surely thinks that this was an act. That these people were paid to come and show how desperate they are to book a property here. Prashant on the other hand is wondering if people can be so naïve or desperate to book a property knowing that the building does not have an OC.
Once the salesman’s performance is over, the couple look at each other and get up to leave. The salesman does not stop them.
Buying a property can be a nightmare. I wish govt had more control on the builders but they have been soaked in bribes. A few things such as one single readable certificate from the govt that clears the building of all technicalities – OC, Forest, Land rights etc. Another thing could be that the builder has to promise when he will hand over the possession. Any delay and the builder pays the EMI or interest equivalent of market rates to the buyers. Home consultants that act as experts and compare what was promised and what was delivered – tiles, bathroom fittings, paint, club house specifications etc. A builder today can easily get away from all of this. I wish home buying was easier.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
MAMI Film Festival
The MAMI film festival held recently in Mumbai was my first expereince of attending any film festival. Unlike my earlier post on the short film festival where I spoke about the stories in the movie, this post will deal on two aspects – the people who watch these festivals and what is common among all good ‘festival films’.
People from the the press, entertainment industry and students of these two fraternieites form majority of the crowd. A sizeable chunk is also the creative people from the ad industry – copywriters, ad film makers, etc. A very small minority forms people like me. Film lovers. Now that’s a pity!
The first thing that I experienced about this crowd was that these people are quite vocal, rebellious, united and impatient. They cheer blatantly and condem unsympatheticly. Piano girl from Turkey, for example, got a standing ovation. In another incident the script writer of this English film from UK was on the dias before his film Infedel was about to be showcased. In such instances someone usually introduces the guest, a bouquet is given and then the guest gets to speak a few words about the film. Our guest was introduced from the US in stead of UK. The bouquet was given in a way most people would find despicable. The guy was however a sport and laughed it off but the crowd boo-ed the presenters mercilessly. If this were Filmfare awards, it would pass with a few murmurs.
In another incident a Mrinal Sen movie Kandahar was getting showcased. They started off by showing parts of the movie in two identical splits, one with the old print and the other one restored. For the first couple of minutes no one said anything. But then people started shouting. They argued that they got the point that restoration has helped but couldn’t fathom why show two identical splits from different parts of the film for five to seven minutes. People started shouting and threatened to walk out until the organisers intervened and apologised and got the film started.
About the movies I noticed that most good ones had a few things in common. Their story was very simple. This allowed the director to focus on a slice of life. Fiction though the stories were, their ends were real. Dramatisation was low, focus was sometimes on the dialogues and sometimes on silence allowing us to question, relate and engage.
If you are one of those who likes to watch off beat films, you should make an attempt to go and see these film festivals, now conducted in many big cities. Movies showcased are usually of impressive quality.
People from the the press, entertainment industry and students of these two fraternieites form majority of the crowd. A sizeable chunk is also the creative people from the ad industry – copywriters, ad film makers, etc. A very small minority forms people like me. Film lovers. Now that’s a pity!
The first thing that I experienced about this crowd was that these people are quite vocal, rebellious, united and impatient. They cheer blatantly and condem unsympatheticly. Piano girl from Turkey, for example, got a standing ovation. In another incident the script writer of this English film from UK was on the dias before his film Infedel was about to be showcased. In such instances someone usually introduces the guest, a bouquet is given and then the guest gets to speak a few words about the film. Our guest was introduced from the US in stead of UK. The bouquet was given in a way most people would find despicable. The guy was however a sport and laughed it off but the crowd boo-ed the presenters mercilessly. If this were Filmfare awards, it would pass with a few murmurs.
In another incident a Mrinal Sen movie Kandahar was getting showcased. They started off by showing parts of the movie in two identical splits, one with the old print and the other one restored. For the first couple of minutes no one said anything. But then people started shouting. They argued that they got the point that restoration has helped but couldn’t fathom why show two identical splits from different parts of the film for five to seven minutes. People started shouting and threatened to walk out until the organisers intervened and apologised and got the film started.
About the movies I noticed that most good ones had a few things in common. Their story was very simple. This allowed the director to focus on a slice of life. Fiction though the stories were, their ends were real. Dramatisation was low, focus was sometimes on the dialogues and sometimes on silence allowing us to question, relate and engage.
If you are one of those who likes to watch off beat films, you should make an attempt to go and see these film festivals, now conducted in many big cities. Movies showcased are usually of impressive quality.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Short Film Festival
A white woman breathing heavily and in a while you realise that she is having sex with someone. That someone happens to be her husband. Her day starts with regular chores and in the evening she is at the pool. Two young girls giggle and ogle at her while she is taking her laps. Next we see her in the shower and the guard announcing that the pool will be closing in 5 minutes and that all the lights will be switched off. She reaches out to grab her clothes and realizes that they are missing. So are the two girls who were just now in the women’s shower area. The light goes off. And she is alone at the club. Naked.
Next we see her on a bicycle wearing a shower curtain riding through the darkness. An abrupt breeze takes the curtain off her and into the stream running below the bridge. She is naked again. A group of boys notice her and chase her. She tries to ride faster. One boy closes in and tries to touch her. She fumbles and both fall off the narrow road onto the grass. The boy looks at her. Her nakedness. She is bruised. He offers his jacket. They make love. She reaches home. Not as annoyed as she seemed when she left the club. Next we see her oiling her bike. The movie ends. Some nine and a half minutes. What do you make of it? Never mind.
I hear some gasps and murmurs from the audience in the barely occupied auditorium. This is the first of the five movies we are about to see at the Manhattan Short Film Festival. No, at Andheri’s Cinemax.
I had not been to a short film festival until last month. This one was an experience. The other four movies ranged from 3.45 minutes to 14.30 minutes. Some were as abstract as the one explained above (called Push Bike) and a couple of them were actually humorous. But none of them conclusive. You keep thinking. The scenes keep lingering in your mind while you are trying to make sense out of it. Is that the intent? I don’t know.
But I am happy that I went for it. These movies were selected from among 1000 plus movies. There must be something about them. However I have to admit that in spite of all the sex and skin, which I am a big fan of, Push Bike was probably the least liked by me. I couldn’t get it! Others were better.
I would have liked to take a 10 minute break after every movie though. And discuss with my wife and two other friends with a creative bent of mind who accompanied us to the festival. However the five movies were back to back. They were pricey too at 250 bucks for less than 45 minutes of viewing.
Anyway, after watching these movies I kept wondering what was the director trying to say? Why did the actor do that? I like this feeling of inconclusiveness in movies and stories. For example if you remember seeing Arth, it ends in a way that makes you wonder what did Pooja (played by Shabana Azmi) really do? Did she finally accept Raj’s (Raj Kiran) offer? Since his character in the movie is one who has a lot of patience and persistence, it is difficult to believe that he just let her go. Similarly in Ijaazat, the ending is not very conclusive.
But this one is the best. There is this Jeffery Archer short story One man’s meat... It starts with a guy driving on the road and spotting a good looking woman. Somewhere down the storyline Archer stops. He says, “At this point in the story the reader is offered the choice of four different endings: Rare; Burnt; Overdone; A point. You might decide to read all four of them, or simply select one and consider that your own particular ending. If you do choose to read all four, they should be taken in the order in which they have been written.
When I read this, I closed the book. And thought about it for one whole day as to which ending would I like to read. Or should I read all four of them. I chose to read just one and have resisted reading the rest.
Some things should remain a mystery, I guess.
Next we see her on a bicycle wearing a shower curtain riding through the darkness. An abrupt breeze takes the curtain off her and into the stream running below the bridge. She is naked again. A group of boys notice her and chase her. She tries to ride faster. One boy closes in and tries to touch her. She fumbles and both fall off the narrow road onto the grass. The boy looks at her. Her nakedness. She is bruised. He offers his jacket. They make love. She reaches home. Not as annoyed as she seemed when she left the club. Next we see her oiling her bike. The movie ends. Some nine and a half minutes. What do you make of it? Never mind.
I hear some gasps and murmurs from the audience in the barely occupied auditorium. This is the first of the five movies we are about to see at the Manhattan Short Film Festival. No, at Andheri’s Cinemax.
I had not been to a short film festival until last month. This one was an experience. The other four movies ranged from 3.45 minutes to 14.30 minutes. Some were as abstract as the one explained above (called Push Bike) and a couple of them were actually humorous. But none of them conclusive. You keep thinking. The scenes keep lingering in your mind while you are trying to make sense out of it. Is that the intent? I don’t know.
But I am happy that I went for it. These movies were selected from among 1000 plus movies. There must be something about them. However I have to admit that in spite of all the sex and skin, which I am a big fan of, Push Bike was probably the least liked by me. I couldn’t get it! Others were better.
I would have liked to take a 10 minute break after every movie though. And discuss with my wife and two other friends with a creative bent of mind who accompanied us to the festival. However the five movies were back to back. They were pricey too at 250 bucks for less than 45 minutes of viewing.
Anyway, after watching these movies I kept wondering what was the director trying to say? Why did the actor do that? I like this feeling of inconclusiveness in movies and stories. For example if you remember seeing Arth, it ends in a way that makes you wonder what did Pooja (played by Shabana Azmi) really do? Did she finally accept Raj’s (Raj Kiran) offer? Since his character in the movie is one who has a lot of patience and persistence, it is difficult to believe that he just let her go. Similarly in Ijaazat, the ending is not very conclusive.
But this one is the best. There is this Jeffery Archer short story One man’s meat... It starts with a guy driving on the road and spotting a good looking woman. Somewhere down the storyline Archer stops. He says, “At this point in the story the reader is offered the choice of four different endings: Rare; Burnt; Overdone; A point. You might decide to read all four of them, or simply select one and consider that your own particular ending. If you do choose to read all four, they should be taken in the order in which they have been written.
When I read this, I closed the book. And thought about it for one whole day as to which ending would I like to read. Or should I read all four of them. I chose to read just one and have resisted reading the rest.
Some things should remain a mystery, I guess.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Kanheri Caves, a beauty next door.
Few of us ever give a glance to the girl next door. In fact I can bet the phrase came from a writer who smelt of arrogance coming from high nose or breed. Kanheri caves was treated as such by me until recently. I consider myself an avid traveler – we take at least half a dozen short and long vacations in a year which makes me qualify for the designation, at least in India. But my high nose on travel eluded me of this beautiful piece married in architectural and natural surroundings less than 15 kms from my house for more than 10 years of my stay stay in Mumbai: The Kanheri Caves.
Kanheri caves are six km from the main gate of the Borivili (Sanjay Gandhi) National Park, which by itself is a nice one day affair especially if you are either too young to be dating or old enough to have young pre-teen children. Once you enter the park, you have a choice of either going on the way where 90% of the population goes (leads to the toy trains, lion/tiger safari, boat rides, park etc) or the less trodden one that leads to Kanheri caves. If you take the later, especially during or immediately after monsoons, keep your windows down and enjoy the fresh air. On both sides are lush green trees and the road is good given I visited at the fag end of monsoons. There are several streams on the way where you could park your car and stop by for a picnic. Once you reach Kanheri caves, you are greeted by hungry monkeys who rule the entry stairs that lead up to the caves. Once on the stairs you are advised not to carry any food in your hands unless you want to be befriended by them in a violent way.
Entry ticket is rupees five and immediately after you enter the gate you can see the first cave. There are 109 caves in total as you keep moving up but cave number 3, 11, 28 and a few others are more significant than the others. These include a congregation hall with huge pillars with a stupa. Some of the caves date back to over 2000 years! At one point in time they served as Buddhist monasteries and were meant for living, study, and meditation. If you have been to monasteries earlier and towns and villages that revolve around them, you can probably understand why the caves are built in this way. It seems to me that Buddhists as people liked to live close by and hence built these caves so close to each other – just a call away. You can see this in Leh/Ladhakh and also in Bhutan – both of which are primarily Buddhist dominated societies. There you can see most houses erected on a hill very close to each other. In a way these look like a large palace (in many cases they are!). Kanheri is just like that, but hundreds of years older without any settlers…
When you walk up the stairs, you can see the beautiful green surroundings of the park. If you sit there for a while you may even forget that just a few kms away is a human jungle called Mumbai where humans are cramming noisily on the roads.
So why did I find Kanheri so nice? One, it was clean. We Indians are so used to seeing heritage sites and temples in ruins and filled with filth that you are caught unawares when you see a decently clean heritage site, right next door, that people seldom visit (perhaps that is why it is clean?)
The other reason I liked this visit was that I had a lovely companion with myself – my soon to be four year old daughter. First she was excited to see so many monkeys trying to steal her cucumber and then she climbed with me till the 20th cave. We promised to come back to complete the ascend some day soon.
Third, its all in nature’s lap. The caves are on a hill which is surrounded by the park. This gives it an exquisite feel.
Finally, I can still not comprehend that such a clean, beautiful, historical heritage site was so close by and I did not appreciate it for so many years. Just like the girl next door!
Kanheri caves are six km from the main gate of the Borivili (Sanjay Gandhi) National Park, which by itself is a nice one day affair especially if you are either too young to be dating or old enough to have young pre-teen children. Once you enter the park, you have a choice of either going on the way where 90% of the population goes (leads to the toy trains, lion/tiger safari, boat rides, park etc) or the less trodden one that leads to Kanheri caves. If you take the later, especially during or immediately after monsoons, keep your windows down and enjoy the fresh air. On both sides are lush green trees and the road is good given I visited at the fag end of monsoons. There are several streams on the way where you could park your car and stop by for a picnic. Once you reach Kanheri caves, you are greeted by hungry monkeys who rule the entry stairs that lead up to the caves. Once on the stairs you are advised not to carry any food in your hands unless you want to be befriended by them in a violent way.
Entry ticket is rupees five and immediately after you enter the gate you can see the first cave. There are 109 caves in total as you keep moving up but cave number 3, 11, 28 and a few others are more significant than the others. These include a congregation hall with huge pillars with a stupa. Some of the caves date back to over 2000 years! At one point in time they served as Buddhist monasteries and were meant for living, study, and meditation. If you have been to monasteries earlier and towns and villages that revolve around them, you can probably understand why the caves are built in this way. It seems to me that Buddhists as people liked to live close by and hence built these caves so close to each other – just a call away. You can see this in Leh/Ladhakh and also in Bhutan – both of which are primarily Buddhist dominated societies. There you can see most houses erected on a hill very close to each other. In a way these look like a large palace (in many cases they are!). Kanheri is just like that, but hundreds of years older without any settlers…
When you walk up the stairs, you can see the beautiful green surroundings of the park. If you sit there for a while you may even forget that just a few kms away is a human jungle called Mumbai where humans are cramming noisily on the roads.
So why did I find Kanheri so nice? One, it was clean. We Indians are so used to seeing heritage sites and temples in ruins and filled with filth that you are caught unawares when you see a decently clean heritage site, right next door, that people seldom visit (perhaps that is why it is clean?)
The other reason I liked this visit was that I had a lovely companion with myself – my soon to be four year old daughter. First she was excited to see so many monkeys trying to steal her cucumber and then she climbed with me till the 20th cave. We promised to come back to complete the ascend some day soon.
Third, its all in nature’s lap. The caves are on a hill which is surrounded by the park. This gives it an exquisite feel.
Finally, I can still not comprehend that such a clean, beautiful, historical heritage site was so close by and I did not appreciate it for so many years. Just like the girl next door!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
How government departments function
I would like to give an extract from a book I am currently reading which would give readers an idea why things take time at government departments. Happy Independence Day!
On 13th April, 1999 a query came to the Department of Administrative Reform (DAR) from the ministry of steel: ‘Can officers use ink other than blue or black?’ It seems that a couple of officers in steel had made notings in green and red which had raised eyebrows.
• There were serious consultations in the DAR and it was decided that since the matter concerned ink, the Directorate of Printing had to be consulted and so an office memo was sent to it on 3rd May.
• On 21st May a reply came saying that the matter had been deliberated at the Directorate and since no rules were found, they opined that the heads of departments should be allowed to use coloured inks whereas other officers must confine themselves to blue or black ink. They suggested department of personnel in home ministry may be consulted
• The personnel department consulted and on 6th July replied saying that since the matter concerned the Manual of Office Procedures, and since it was regulated by the DAR, it was in their competence to decide. The ball was back.
• In the following Senior Level Officers meeting of the DAR the matter was discussed. It was agreed that since the longevity of inks was an issue of government records, a letter was sent on 12th August to Director General, Department of Archives, asking his opinion.
• On 27th August a reply came that as regards fountain pens blue/black to be prescribed but in case of ball point pens other colours could be permitted. But whatever ink was used its quality ought to comply with the Bureau of Indian Standards
• At the next Senior Officer’s meeting, the chairman of DAR felt that before deciding, the manual of armed forces should be consulted. Accordingly a letter was sent on 4th October to the joint secretary in the ministry of defense.
• On 22nd Dec, he replied saying that red ink is used by chiefs, green is used by principal staff officers and blue is used by all other officers.
• After several further months of deliberation, the DAR passed an order on 28th March amending the manual of office procedures. “Initial drafting will be done in blue or black ink. Modifications in the draft at subsequent levels may be done in green or red by the officers so as to distinguish the corrections made.’ Hierarchy was observed in the order: ‘Only an officer of the level of joint secretary and above may use green or red ink in rare cases.’
The Difficulty of Being Good by Gurcharan Das from where I have extracted this note is a book on dharma based on Mahabharata. It draws episodes from Mahabharata and their parallels in modern world with examples from the The Wall Street, the Ambani brothers, competitive markets etc. I have just completed 2 chapters and I am finding it very interesting.
On 13th April, 1999 a query came to the Department of Administrative Reform (DAR) from the ministry of steel: ‘Can officers use ink other than blue or black?’ It seems that a couple of officers in steel had made notings in green and red which had raised eyebrows.
• There were serious consultations in the DAR and it was decided that since the matter concerned ink, the Directorate of Printing had to be consulted and so an office memo was sent to it on 3rd May.
• On 21st May a reply came saying that the matter had been deliberated at the Directorate and since no rules were found, they opined that the heads of departments should be allowed to use coloured inks whereas other officers must confine themselves to blue or black ink. They suggested department of personnel in home ministry may be consulted
• The personnel department consulted and on 6th July replied saying that since the matter concerned the Manual of Office Procedures, and since it was regulated by the DAR, it was in their competence to decide. The ball was back.
• In the following Senior Level Officers meeting of the DAR the matter was discussed. It was agreed that since the longevity of inks was an issue of government records, a letter was sent on 12th August to Director General, Department of Archives, asking his opinion.
• On 27th August a reply came that as regards fountain pens blue/black to be prescribed but in case of ball point pens other colours could be permitted. But whatever ink was used its quality ought to comply with the Bureau of Indian Standards
• At the next Senior Officer’s meeting, the chairman of DAR felt that before deciding, the manual of armed forces should be consulted. Accordingly a letter was sent on 4th October to the joint secretary in the ministry of defense.
• On 22nd Dec, he replied saying that red ink is used by chiefs, green is used by principal staff officers and blue is used by all other officers.
• After several further months of deliberation, the DAR passed an order on 28th March amending the manual of office procedures. “Initial drafting will be done in blue or black ink. Modifications in the draft at subsequent levels may be done in green or red by the officers so as to distinguish the corrections made.’ Hierarchy was observed in the order: ‘Only an officer of the level of joint secretary and above may use green or red ink in rare cases.’
The Difficulty of Being Good by Gurcharan Das from where I have extracted this note is a book on dharma based on Mahabharata. It draws episodes from Mahabharata and their parallels in modern world with examples from the The Wall Street, the Ambani brothers, competitive markets etc. I have just completed 2 chapters and I am finding it very interesting.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
8-day Ladakh Trek
Unlike most of my other entries related to travel, this one took a long time to pen down. Not that there was paucity of material. In fact the other way round. But I was not really sure what to write about this entire trip of 15 days. Finally I decided to break it into two entries - the 8 day trek and the lakes of Ladakh.
I will not go into the details of the trek. That is sure to bore you. I would however narrate a few instances and topics that you may find interesting.
The food: Breakfast and dinners were very interesting. At 15000 feet our cook would serve us mutur paneer, spaghetti, macaroni, egg curry, tuna koftas and such interesting stuff for dinner. Breakfast would be scrambled eggs, omelets, porridge, parathas, cornflakes and such items.
The lunches were however amusing. Every day we got ours in separate steel dabbas. The contents were unmistakably a boiled egg, a boiled patato, a chocolate(Kit Kat or Bar One), a fruit drink (Frooti or Jumpin), a slice or cube of cheese and one other item that would alter. By the third day of the trek, we would all open our dabbas to unveil this unpredictable item. Sometimes it would be two chapattis, sometimes a loaf of sweet bread, on one day it was a samosa like item stuffed with potatoes but shaped like a semicircle. Most of us would eat only part of the lunch, perhaps because of its contents. We would look for a village and stop near a water body and have the lunch. Then we would lie down for a while trying to take a power nap.
The potties: Pardon me for juxtaposing this item with food, but it was never the less an interesting experience. After we would land at each campsite every evening, we would invariably discuss the options. Sometimes it was the slumdog millionaire types, sometimes it was a dug out and sometimes it was purely a walk in the wilds! When it was a walk, we would demarcate our boundaries and zones in North, South, East and West. Sometimes I would wonder what would happen if there were more than four of us. A clash, once in a while, would have been unavoidable. We also came up with the idea of placing flags in the direction of where we went so that ‘trespassers’ would be warned by the color of the flag. On one day, I guess it was the second day only, when we were camping on a high-ground where one could spot things half a mile and beyond. Don’t ask how we managed!
The acclimatization: Normal treks and those at high altitudes are very different. One’s physical fitness takes a back seat when one is trekking at high altitudes. Lung capacity and how well one acclimatizes are the two the key factors. We realized that we were short of breadth on many occasions especially on day 3 and 7. These were the days when we were trekking at 17000 and 18000 feet. It is therefore very important that one takes steady steps and maintains a pace that one is comfortable with. Eventually your body adjusts to the pace. It is also important that you take minimum number of breaks, drink water frequently and not overeat or consume too much of alcohol.
The Nature: If I say Ladakh is beautiful, it is an understatement. The pictures that we have posted explain only half of its beauty. You have to be there to experience the rest. When you do such long treks, you tend to be far away from civilization. You see the natural world up, close and personal. The nature of rock formations, the sound of the flowing river, the smell of the gentle breeze are all pure bliss. Trek is one of the better ways to enjoy them. It takes you to places where cars and sightseeing trips can’t.
During these 8 days, we walked close to 110 kms. We started at 10000 feet and ascended upto 17000 feet, moved down to 14000 and again went to 18000 before finally descending. We were the only Indians trekking. Ours was the first Indian group that our guide took out on a trek in his 3 years’ career. On each day of the trek, we typically started with most other groups and we were always the last ones to reach the base. We however made it. We did it in spite of not being among the most physically fit and without any professional trekking experience. I guess you can do it too.
Whereas some see trek as an exercise of physical endurance, I have a different take. Trek is not the end, it is just a means to an end. Being close to the nature is supreme. It is the destiny.
My advice is that even if you are not in great physical shape, take a short trek or go even on a horse. Do it not to prove a point to anyone. Do it just for yourself.
Cause its worth it!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Lloyd's ball got confiscated at Delhi Airport
Last night we boarded for Delhi for hopefully a memorable Leh trek. At the Delhi airport when we were doing a sec check for Leh, Lloyd's ball got confiscated by this lady officer with a constipated look. He will now go to Leh without the tennis ball .
Sufi is continuing to talk all the time. He got so bored last night at the airport. that he slept on the floor. LLoyd has the pics. Then he almost woke up the McDonald shop people so that they could serve him burgers....at 4.10AM !!!
More later - Flight about to leave. B-Bye
Sufi is continuing to talk all the time. He got so bored last night at the airport. that he slept on the floor. LLoyd has the pics. Then he almost woke up the McDonald shop people so that they could serve him burgers....at 4.10AM !!!
More later - Flight about to leave. B-Bye
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Delhi and Mumbai
Traffic is moving at a very slow pace on the Akshardham flyover. My colleague and I are getting late for a meeting. I seem tensed which is odd having spent many more years in the industry as opposed to him. He seems to be fine listening to some mantra on his CD player from Anuradha Paudwal which seem to say the same thing for, I think, the 1017th time. We see a person in a motor bike ahead of us riding very cautiously. Looking left. And then right to avoid the unwanted kiss or the completely undesirable smooch from the car behind him. My colleague comments, “Uncle does not seem to be from Delhi. Delhiites don’t look to their rear. They know that vehicles behind have breaks. They just march ahead. Squeeze wherever they do and don’t get space”. I sense some form of pride in delivery of that statement. A furlong ahead we see another biker. This guy seems to be marching ahead. My colleague comments, “This uncle is a proper Delhiite” A second later a car bumps him from the rear. Uncle complains to the driver while we observe the exchange amusedly. Traffic moves on. A few seconds later we see the same uncle marching ahead of us. “See, he has moved ahead without bothering so much. Such are Delhiites”, he says with pride.
People from other cities would perhaps do the same too but a Delhiite will not think so much about it. Not bother. Cars and bikes have dents and that is the way of life. People do get late for meetings and that is the way of life. Those that they are meeting obviously do not like it but don’t bother about it so much. As opposed to Mumbai where you are scorned upon if you are late. ‘If there was traffic, one should have planned’, is how a Mumbaiite would think. A Delhiite would accept that as a fact of life and move on. A Mumbaiite would make a mental note. The reason I was tensed on that morning, was because I am from Mumbai, whereas my colleague was OK. The fact that I am tensed and he is not does not make him less ‘professional’. I have learnt this over years of visiting Delhi. It’s just that the perspectives are different.
There are many ways both cities are different. But some of these amuse me. For example, my same colleague can give a call to another contact saying that his head of marketing is in town that day and would like a meeting and a Delhiite would more often than not oblige. A Mumbaiite, on the other hand, would most probably say that he is busy the whole day on something or the other thinking all the while as to how does it matter to him if the head of marketing is in town. He may also find this call very unprofessional in the same way he would consider late arrivals on meetings.
Conversely, a Delhiite will have little qualms of cancelling a meeting knowing very well that the guy has flown in from another city just to see him. It has happened to me more than once. One incident is worth mentioning. An executive from a leading consumer durable company agreed for a meeting in Delhi. On reaching his office I was told that he is not come to office that day. The security personnel further added that the gentleman in question had probably quit the organization a few days earlier and the meeting was fixed just a couple of days in advance. Though singular and very odd, it reflects more on the gentleman in question rather than a city behavior. However one cannot disagree that he came from Delhi. In another similar incident, where I was supposed to meet the head of marketing of a leading technology company, and had flown in one of our leading consultants for that meeting, we were surprised to hear that the gentleman in question in this particular occasion was ‘unaware’ of any such meeting which he had confirmed in an email. It is human to err and this could also be treated as yet another singular episode, but we cannot deny that he was from Delhi.
Even with all such idiosyncrasies, I like visiting Delhi. Where planned meetings get cancelled without notice and unplanned ones get scheduled as quickly. Food is almost always interesting. People are jovial and not so ‘serious’ as those from Mumbai and I get to catch up with some really good friends. I would have second thoughts of living there but visits are always welcome.
People from other cities would perhaps do the same too but a Delhiite will not think so much about it. Not bother. Cars and bikes have dents and that is the way of life. People do get late for meetings and that is the way of life. Those that they are meeting obviously do not like it but don’t bother about it so much. As opposed to Mumbai where you are scorned upon if you are late. ‘If there was traffic, one should have planned’, is how a Mumbaiite would think. A Delhiite would accept that as a fact of life and move on. A Mumbaiite would make a mental note. The reason I was tensed on that morning, was because I am from Mumbai, whereas my colleague was OK. The fact that I am tensed and he is not does not make him less ‘professional’. I have learnt this over years of visiting Delhi. It’s just that the perspectives are different.
There are many ways both cities are different. But some of these amuse me. For example, my same colleague can give a call to another contact saying that his head of marketing is in town that day and would like a meeting and a Delhiite would more often than not oblige. A Mumbaiite, on the other hand, would most probably say that he is busy the whole day on something or the other thinking all the while as to how does it matter to him if the head of marketing is in town. He may also find this call very unprofessional in the same way he would consider late arrivals on meetings.
Conversely, a Delhiite will have little qualms of cancelling a meeting knowing very well that the guy has flown in from another city just to see him. It has happened to me more than once. One incident is worth mentioning. An executive from a leading consumer durable company agreed for a meeting in Delhi. On reaching his office I was told that he is not come to office that day. The security personnel further added that the gentleman in question had probably quit the organization a few days earlier and the meeting was fixed just a couple of days in advance. Though singular and very odd, it reflects more on the gentleman in question rather than a city behavior. However one cannot disagree that he came from Delhi. In another similar incident, where I was supposed to meet the head of marketing of a leading technology company, and had flown in one of our leading consultants for that meeting, we were surprised to hear that the gentleman in question in this particular occasion was ‘unaware’ of any such meeting which he had confirmed in an email. It is human to err and this could also be treated as yet another singular episode, but we cannot deny that he was from Delhi.
Even with all such idiosyncrasies, I like visiting Delhi. Where planned meetings get cancelled without notice and unplanned ones get scheduled as quickly. Food is almost always interesting. People are jovial and not so ‘serious’ as those from Mumbai and I get to catch up with some really good friends. I would have second thoughts of living there but visits are always welcome.
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