Working on my music sense

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While I was growing up we had an EC TV on which we would without fail watch every Sunday. Exactly at 7 a.m. my mother would switch on the TV to watch and enjoy good old Bollywood melodies. Around the same time, my father would start his rant that it wasn’t a program to be aired at 7 am in the morning. His reasoning – it was too early to start drinking and build immunity towards music.

As you may have understood by now, I come from a family divided over music. And as luck would have it, I got more of my father’s genes and less of my mother’s – the love for alcohol explains this better than anything else.

Not that I hate music. I love it. I love the noise patterns it makes…its a unique and different noise. The noise pattern varies depending on who the was – has his own style and so does Ilayaraja.

If only I didn’t get more of my father’s genes, I would have probably cultivated music as my . What a great thing it is for an – it is invisible, and it doesn’t smell. The wives would have never known.

As of today, thanks to my father’s genes I have a liking for alcohol and sometimes women, sometimes money and sometimes fame. Funny, for these are all the addictions those forces grown up men to wear , grow their hair, pierce their bodies and form . It is another thing that they start off with such as , The The, Mr Mister and !!! (yes, there is a called !!! and mind you this can’t be googled about. Give it a shot, if you will).

If I had started a band, it would have been called “Jammin with Jammy”

They say you are born with a sense for music or you aren’t. I intend to beat that – I have already started working on improving my . As of now my favourite is the music played by ICICI Bank when they put me on hold. Second in line is Yanni’s music played at ’s lobby – consistently boring, but pregnant with meaning.

One can’t really get a sense of music without learning a music instrument and that’s why after a good amount of research I have identified as the instrument I am going to learn. I know typing….and the only difference I noticed was that the keys on a don’t have alphabets or numbers on them. How difficult can it be if you already know typing? Wait till I have learnt it. If you leave a nice comment, you will be invited to my first show.

After writing this, realized that I had written about Music couple of years back as well. Read it Here

I thought Clitoris was a Greek God

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in India is different from the rest of the World. While we invent/discover/write kamasutras….we hide Debonairs and Playboys under our beds, yet to the world we are like: “? Sorry…we are Indians.”

The other day, Rekha saw a chat message from my ex-girlfriend and caught me: “Who is she?”

““Ah! Just a friend.”

“Have you slept with her?” She was furious.

“Not a bit Rekha. We were up all night.”

Why are we Indians scared to talk about our sex lives. I mean, in my case it was different…but I am talking about an average Indian.

For long my parents made me think that Clitoris was a God and Dick was a type of bird….related to Duck. But I wasn’t to be cowed down…by the time I was 22, I knew what both of these words meant.

After years of reading about it and watching it…one thing about sex has baffled me. Why is it that it is almost always the woman who screams while having sex. Whats wrong with the men? Why shouldn’t the men be screaming as well? As for the women, they scream louder when you walk in on them while cheating.

Then again, I think you should know that I am not against cheating women. In fact in the last two years or so I have not been against any kind of naked women. At least, not as often as I would have loved to.

While on the subject, have you heard of the man who used to steal under garments from houses? When caught & told by the judge that anything he said would be held against him, he said: “’s breasts.”

The judge laughed for so long that he thought it wise to let the criminal go. But before letting the criminal go the judge asked him: “So what will you do once I let you go?”

The criminal said: “I will go home and rip my wife’s apart. The tight elastic is making breathing difficult for me.”

It is said that if one wants to know his/her true one should get a Sales job. Very true. I have heard it from everybody I have worked with….so must be true. This is one of the things for which you can’t rely on hearing it from the horse’s mouth – who has ever heard a true statement from a sales guy?

Friends are of two types – the Jewelry Type and the Clothes Type.

The Clothes Type friends lose color, fade away, grow small etc with time. While the Jewelry type friends remain inert…they don’t react…don’t age. They don’t lose color, fade…in short you don’t out grow them.

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Becoming a criminal

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As a seven-year-old boy in 1982, I had taken my towards being a criminal. Back then, if you were a criminal you didn’t have to hide in a high-fenced complex in or in an in Dubai (did I just give away the of Dawood?). I had stolen a pink colored, peacock shaped, scented eraser in grade two – but my journey was cut short by lack of guts. Not to mention the beating I had got from a lady who knew how to wield the broom – my mother.

Today after slogging for almost 14 years in corporates of various sizes and shapes I wonder ….where would I be if I had actually continued on my course to becoming a criminal.

Would I be an individual contributor? Would I have been leading a ? Or would I have been leading the whole company? Obviously not D-Company….for that still has a good, effective in …but you get the idea.

I had started thinking along this lines after a casual discussion with my Argentinean colleague Andres.

First day in , I asked Andres: “So, how is the in ?”

“We have very little crime in this country,” Andres replied.

“Is it? Why so?”

“You know…it is against the law.” Andres continued.

This got me by my you-know-what. Wow…crime was against the law? Never occurred to me!

“So, no crime at all?” I reiterated. As you may be aware by now that we Rajans don’t let go so easily.

“Well…actually…I would be wrong if I said there was no crime,” Andres seemed to be breaking down.

“And what sort of crime are we talking about here?” I poked him.

“The sort that one commits in and to the sound of trumpets. Know them?” Andres gave me a .

The moment the sentence escaped Andres’s mouth I knew he was referring to the crimes that countries did – in groups and in the name of patriotism. After all, a murder in a war isn’t a murder because it is being done in huge numbers and to patriotic jingoism. This gelled well with my past as well – before I had fully given up the criminal path I had wanted to join the . If only I had joined…I would have committed crimes in a crowd. But that was not to be as they refused to take me in.

That night as I lay in bed…I wondered: If everybody in this World was chasing a fortune…and it was also true that behind every great fortune there was a crime…then life needed to be redefined.

Before I fell asleep that night…between me and my split-personality we agreed that life could be re-defined as “a competition where everybody wants to be the criminal and NOT the victim”.

The next day when I woke up…I wanted to be a criminal again. As of now, I am trying to get back into my groove. Plan to start at the criminal equivalent of , which is pick-pocketer.

I don’t agree with all that bull-crap our elders have taught us… that crime doesn’t pay in the long run. Lets ask the children and grand children of famous gangsters such as Alphonse ‘Scarface’ Capone….who are now living off the riches. Perhaps it is out of context to say here but still…no gangster named after a mango will ever scare me.

Anyway, now that we have agreed….I am going to become a criminal. The beauty of this decision is that I don’t need any or an office space. I can work from home. And I am starting tomorrow.