Author: manuscrypts

  • City Zen

    Sometime back, in a post, I quoted Paul Theroux “My own feeling is that city dwellers invent the cities they dwell in. The great cities are just too big to be comprehended as a whole, so they are invisible, or imaginary, existing mainly in the mind.” 

    The other day, during a cleaning exercise, I came upon an ‘old’ Bangalore map we had taped together from printouts. (I remember the site had separate maps for north, south, east and west 🙂 ) Back in 2003 and thereabouts, this used to be our reference when we had to travel to places unknown. Unknown at that point included Malleswaram, Cantonment, Jayanagar and such. 🙂 The city that we had created in our mind included Koramangala, Indiranagar and MG Road. Yes, just about that much. 🙂 But the outdoor media selection that my brand job entailed ensured that I soon became familiar with many parts of Bangalore. In an earlier job, my office was at VV Puram and those not familiar with the place would say that it was far. Actually, my travel time from Koramangala was quite less.

    A few weeks back, we decided to check out Haralur Road as part of the Realty Check endeavour. Despite the advanced features of Google Maps, and its time estimates, we thought it would take a while to get there from Koramangala. Not only did it turn to be near, we got back much earlier than expected. I’m sure the area will be unrecognisable 5 years down the line. Just like say, HSR has evolved. 🙂

    As Bangalore creates its own little self sustaining bubbles, it’s not just the city that will be created in the mind, it’s probably the distances too.

    until next time, cityscape

  • Spaghetti Kitchen (Koramangala)

    Though we asked for an EMI option at the Indiranagar version, we picked up the courage to try out the Koramangala version, thanks to Poshvine. Mostly for the awesome view of Hosur Road while we dined. Located right at the Forum junction, above Punjab Grill, there’s valet parking. There’s also a coffee shop in the same premises.

    The ambiance, which is bright and cheerful in daylight, gets an additional classiness at night, and suckers that we are for road facing views, this one was just awesome. We had a fair idea of what we wanted, courtesy the menu at Zomato, but added a Sangria for two to that list.

    The complimentary bread basket was excellent, and the bread was indeed fresh. We started with the Cappuccino of Four Mushroom soup (/2) and it turned out pretty and tasty, though I’d have liked a dash of pepper. Thankfully that’s available on the table easily. For the main course, we asked for a Fettuccine with Cream & Cheese and a Tutto Carne thin crust (Rs.50 extra) pizza. The all meat pizza arrived first and though we couldn’t complain about the meat presence – ham, lamb…, the crust was burnt a bit too much. Basically, pay Rs.50 extra for a burnt crust. The pasta though, was awesome. Don’t judge it by its skimpy appearance, it’s quite heavy and there’s no stinginess on the cream and the parmesan – pecorino sauce was just amazing.

     

    The wallet felt lighter by about Rs.2350, after the Poshvine discount. Pricey, and probably the place to go to when you’re in the mood for celebrations. The lunch buffet on weekdays (<500 after tax) is something I’d very highly recommend though.

    Spaghetti Kitchen, 1, SJR Primus, 1st Floor, Adjacent To Raheja Arcade, Koramangala. Ph: 41160500

  • Plan C

    This post has been pending for a while, the date of publishing of the article that inspired the post is evidence enough. It is about people who leave their jobs to follow their passion, but instead of the success stories we are used to, it focuses on the difficulties on that path. Even if you’ve not taken that path already, it’s quite possible that you have contemplated it. It’s romantic – the freedom, being your own boss and doing the thing you like – Plan B. But it’s not easy, and it begins as early as even identifying one’s passion. (must read)

    Interestingly, NYT themselves had an article almost a year later that asked “What Work is Really For” and answered that with an Aristotle quote “we work to have leisure, on which happiness depends.” Though I didn’t know about this quote until recently, this is a perspective that I have often used to debate with people who say those who do not like their jobs should quit. There are many reasons why people don’t, and one of them is consciously making a choice to work (possibly on things they don’t enjoy) for the 2 days (and vacations) when they are able to spend their resources – money, effort and time – on things they enjoy.

    The reasons people don’t scale up those 2 days could be many, including the difficulties involved in the early stages of setting up, and then maintaining a positive balance – of money and life. Money is after all an essential resource. It buys things, it opens doors. But when your passion becomes your work and your principal source of money, does it feel the same? Or does it become a job?

    I liked the second NYT article also for its last 3 paragraphs. It addresses the money conundrum. It talks about how right from when we are born, we are taught to be consumers, thanks to capitalism, which though calls itself an open market where we have the freedom to buy is actually a system unto itself.  The choices are not really independent. It points out that education should be meant to make us self determining agents. True freedom requires that we take part in the market as fully formed agents, with life goals determined not by advertising campaigns but by our own experience of and reflection on the various possibilities of human fulfillment. But that’s not an easy path either. It calls for independent thinking and a subjective view of fulfillment and happiness. And that brings us to the familiar “to each his own”

    until next time, work it out 🙂

    Bonus Read: Six Rules to guide your career

  • Between the assassinations

    Aravind Adiga

    Halfway between Calicut and Goa lies Kittur, the scene of Aravind Adiga’s collection of stories, set in the seven year period between the assassinations of Indira and Rajiv Gandhi. But then, despite some very 80s characteristics, the timeframe hardly matters, this could’ve been set in contemporary years too, for as a character says “Nothing ever changes. Nothing will ever change.” One instant comparison I could make was with Malgudi Days. That however ends with the similarity of multiple characters in the same town that is described in great detail – you can picture yourself in the town walking along its roads and identifying places and people.

    As the book summary says, the stories slowly bring out the moral biography of the town with its diverse set of characters – from the Dalit bookseller whose kosher relationship with the police is disrupted when he is caught selling ‘The Satanic Verses’ to the ‘sexologist’ who ends up supporting a boy with a venereal disease, and from the ‘mosquito man’ who tries to set limits for the relationship between a servant and his mistress to the mixed caste boy who detonates a bomb in his school.

    The book worked for me because the author has managed to flesh out his characters superbly across financial class, religion and schools of thought (political, philosophical) and use the friction between them to drive the stories. In that sense, each story is probably a different style, but the subtext of pent-up fury tinged with sadness cuts across.

    An excellent read both as an exploration of a microcosm of India as well as the different shades of human relationships and morality.

  • Balance Wheel

    Somewhere between the need to belong and the constraints of conformity lies that Utopian state. I am beginning to realise that this is applicable across all modes of social interaction, whether they be real or virtual.

    It begins with people finding a common interest or ‘wavelength’ and sharing great vibes. School/college cliques, blogs and microblogs, workplaces, interest groups and so on.  Startups are fun places to work in the initial years because rules are made on the go, blogs and microblogs in their early days were sparsely populated and everyone was discovering their own voice and community norms.

    I have always wondered what breaks the utopian state – time or an increase in the group size. These days I am beginning to be convinced that it is the latter. As each new member is added to the initial set, the needle begins to slowly shift from the erstwhile average. The addition of new members also changes the dynamics of the group and slowly the earlier common sense of belonging changes even as a new one is created. Some adapt, others refuse to conform and break away.

    But what I have also realised recently is that there is a middle path – refusing to conform but refusing to go away either. It is a tightrope walk, and best done without baggage. And that’s the walk I am trying to learn, across my worlds.

    until next time, walking schtick