The parade

Sometimes we do things without really having a complete understanding of it. We go with the flow cause we just want to do it. Though I am usually more on the cautious side, yesterday was one such experience for me.

I was at NM college capturing the Umang youth fest and around 8 o’clock a large parade crossed the college. There were about 10000 people walking peacefully with candles and mashals in hand shouting interesting slogans. There was also a large crowd outside the NM college trying to get entry to the fest. The paraders wanted this crowd to join but of course the crowd, mostly teens, wanted to be at the fest. I could sense that the crowd was supportive as they joined them in the slogans…or they were just being youth.

I didn’t know much about the Lokpal bill other than the fact that if the bill is passed it may help us reduce, if not eradicate, corruption. The fact that the government is trying so hard not to get it passed in the form proposed by Anna and Kejriwal perhaps suggests that there may be some merit to it. Also, you don’t see any major political support for this activism, apart from the usual rhetoric of BJP. Perhaps it has those claws that every political party is wary of.
With little thought I joined the parade. I did not know any paraders and this was the first time I was on road on a parade. I was shouting slogans, keeping the paraders on one side of the road and letting vehicles pass, lighting candles and simply walking with them.

We walked till Juhu beach where there was a larger crowd. People were singing songs, playing drums, shouting more slogans….it was an eclectic atmosphere.

The best part of this parade was that it was non-political and had all sections from the society, especially a lot of SEC As participating. In a long time this thick skinned upper crust (people like me) has joined a campaign on the roads after debating and criticizing government and corruption in their living rooms and social gatherings for years.

In this sense, this movement is unique.

P.S: The wiki site has all info that you may want to know about this bill.

Even words have a fashion quotient!

I thought of writing this piece while reading this brilliant book Bound Together by Nayan Chanda. In his book Nayan writes that the word ‘globalization’ was introduced in the Webster’s dictionary only in 1961 and was first used in 1979. And it was not until the nineties that its usage gained popularity. The word was at its peak in 2001.This made me wonder if words, like clothes, were fashionable.

In the last few years, I have come across a few words which I liked immediately. Blame my vocabulary for not knowing them before (until you accept my argument) and now I hear and read about them, more often than I would like to.

Think about the word cliché. I heard this word for the first time about 7-8 years ago. I was immediately attracted to it. Everything about it was so sexy. The way it sounds. The way it is written with that diphthong. Its complexity. Now given the fact that clichés are best avoided, the word cliché is itself become clichéd.

Another word that comes to my mind is judgmental, “Don’t be judgmental”, or when someone says, “I am not judgmental.” It sounded heavy and profound and I was immediately drawn towards it. I wanted to know what the fuck did being judgmental mean anyway. And why did people not want to be judgmental? If this drift continued then what would happen to justice in our country? No one would ever want to judge since no one wanted to be judgmental and the resultant crisis will be that justice will not be served which means it will be denied. You still with me?

When I understood what being judgmental meant, I immediately thought of Pammi aunty. She was so judgmental. And also my boss who was always judgemental, especially towards me! And what about my wife? And then it stuck. What was I doing anyways deliberating on who was judgmental?

So tell me now. Do you concur that you have heard words such as judgmental and cliché more in the last five years as opposed to the previous five?

How about compatible? “I don’t think we are compatible.” I am not sure if couples are separating more now-a-days because this word is getting used more often than necessary or because of compatibility. See?

Can you think of more?



P.S: OK, OK - I had promised to write one piece every month. And today is 31st!

What does Cricket World cup win mean for other sports aspirants in India?

The cricket world cup win saw smiles on almost every Indian I suppose. It also saw tons of gallons of beers being consumed, state governments spending taxpayers money in gifting houses and cash to the already endorsement rich players and the prime minister flirting with the idea of starting bilateral cricket with our friendly neighbour.

I kept wondering what it meant to Dipu, a football player of a local club in Bengal, or Gurjeet, a hockey aspirant in Amritsar. I am sure they were happy too. I am however unsure about their future.

A world cup victory (and the frenzy that followed) reinforces the fact that as a nation we were, are and will continue to be crazy about cricket. All the brands that put in money for their spots got handsome returns on reach and GRPs. They would in all probability continue to sleep with this sport for some more time to come. All the cricketing clubs would see a spurt in admissions of young cricket aspirants. Famous cricketers will open cricket academies where children will be taught how to hold a bat. Young businessmen would probably now get an approval for their venture to open yet another sports channel named India cricket. Parents of amateur cricketers will see Yuvi’s mom and Pathan’s dad in them and hope that their ward would one day lift the world cup trophy for the nation. The aspirants and their parents are unlikely to divorce cricket anytime soon.

This also means that brands that set aside money for sports branding may put more on cricket. Those who missed out on the world cup bus would like to get on the IPL wagon. This also means that aspiring youths who want to pursue a career in sports which is not cricket should seriously think if their sport will ever win a major tournament in their lifetime. But if we continue tom toming cricket, how will they get the funding and more importantly the encouragement to pursue? Isn’t it not a chicken and a egg situation? Do they shove their aspirations?

An IPL match is seen by 30000 people on an average in a stadium. In March this year there was a football tournament in Kolkata wherein nine premiere Indian football clubs and one Chinese club participated. A good match had on-ground numbers similar to IPL. On equating everything else, sponsors paid a fifth of what they would have paid if it were cricket. Whereas governments have gifted houses and cash to world cup winning cricketers, has someone checked what medalists at Asian games and Olympics get?

My question to those who put their money and time on supporting cricket is, “If you could wait for 28 years to get back the cup, don’t other sports deserve a chance?”

Else Gurjeet and Dipu’s aspirations will die.

Kila Raipur, you should be there

Last weekend was one of those rare ones when I was working but not complaining. I was attending a sporting event near Ludhiana at a place called Kila Raipur (www.ruralolympics.com).

I knew it was going to be fun as I like visiting rural areas, meeting people and idea of rural sports is exciting anyway. But what I experienced was entirely magical. If you think IPL is a show with a blend of tamasha and sports, I would encourage you to visit Kila Raipur next year. I bet that IPL people can pick a couple of leafs from the 75 year old Kila Raipur games to know how to entertain people amidst serious sports.

Let me first talk about Be-lack-Berry. Not the phone but one of the contenders of the dog race! This dog was flown in from Caneda. There were other dogs also flown in from different countries as this belt has a lot of NRIs who not only contribute financially to the event, but also participate in it along with their rural cousins. Kila Raipur acknowledges no state and country boundaries. Anyone from anywhere can participate. I don’t know if our client BlackBerry would have been happy to be sharing its brand name to that of a dog, but I was amused each time they mentioned him (in that typical Punjabi tone). And Be-lack-Berry did well too. It lost to Boomer in the finals(yet another brand, but not my client!).

The bullock cart races were quite entertaining. Everything on the ground had to stop to accommodate the bullock cart race. Four carts went in each round and there were a couple of dozen entries. The bulls were quite bullish about their way even when they were trotting on the ground trying to bully mere mortals like us. The distance to be covered was close to 250 meters. The officials at the starting and finish line had to wave a red flag or a white flag depending on their side of readiness to start the race. Sometimes the bulls refused to be tied to the cart but most of the times it was the crowd that did not clear the ground – not enough to start the race. This amidst the commentator continuing to cajole, persuade, scream and make announcements requesting people to clear way but most were lost in their own thoughts discussing the next game, or ogling at animals or rare human species capable of performing distinguishable feats – all present here on the ground. But once the race started, the entire crowd would roar – very much like the horse race. The only difference being that there were no favorites – one would hardly know who is contesting unless he was his friend or neighbour. But the crowd would be excited as hell. Each round would last about 30 seconds during which more than 25000 people were on their feet cheering!

Another intriguing sport was the circular kabaddi (played in Punjab and Haryana). Though I was not impressed by its form initially, toward the end, I had to appreciate the strength and vigor of the players – almost all of whom had bruises, sprains, cuts etc after going through grueling rounds before reaching the finals. Locals were watching this one closely cheering their favorites.

During the third day, suddenly some people in tractors decided that they wanted to race. And as easily as that, they got their permissions. But the trick was that they had to start right after the bullock cart race while the ground was still clear. And they did just that. Just while the cheering was dying down from the bullock cart race, the tractors thunderous ignition drew immediate attention. And wow, I didn’t realize the tractors could move so fast!

While regular sports were going on in the center of the ground, some people were displaying their acts at the seams. Someone could lift a 100Kg sack on his back and then had his son sit on it. The khalsas rode two horses by keeping a leg each on each of them. Motorcyclists from army did a show, an eight year old rode a bullet while his father sat one sided reading newspaper! Camels and horses danced to the tunes of drums. A tricycle race for handicapped was organised with just two participants. Everything that was out of ordinary was okay to be showcased here.
If someone walked in, he would see chaos. There was no restriction on entering the ground. Anyone with any kind of camera was permitted. Those without sat on the stadiums. People moved into the kabaddi rings, photographers into the racing tracks and not every sport was conducted with absolute precision. But once you linger around, you would notice that there was some method to the madness. In spite of all the chaos, things started and ended on time. Just as Olympics, there were two, sometimes three sports going on simultaneously on the ground. The primary commentator controlled the timetable with the help of other commentators on ground.
In a way, I was impressed as close to 1000 sportsperson participated in a couple of dozen sports and it all went in smoothly. In spite of combat sports and rural placing, the participants played in true spirit.

The five elements that talk about the spirit of Olympics are Friendship, Fairplay, Peace, Glory and Honour. Kila Raipur represents all of these. It is one event I would urge every travel freak to attend, at least once. And moreover, once the games are over, enjoy the warmth of people, the colours they adorn, the weather perfect (first week of February) and the food... Sometimes work can be fun.

Sunday in the life of a home buyer

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.

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.

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.