The Infernal Diurnal Journal

  I have fallen massively behind again. And there was a lot to write about in the last few days but never got around to it. One main reason was work distrac I have fallen massively behind again. And there was a lot to write about in the last few days but never got around to it. One main reason was work distraction. I was given a new and more elaborate title at work. I felt really good even though it mean close to nothing. It did not come with more pay, just a few perks here and there. Nothing that would make any difference in the larger scheme of things. But it improved the ego. It took me a few days to get over it. Because the moment this kind of stuff happens, one is suddenly parachuted into a false self-narrative that suggests that I should put more work here, maybe better things can happen than I give it credit for. Maybe it is not a false narrative. At the end of the day, either way it is work. And I only do my work in one way. It is not like...

 I was not looking forward to the coming weekend. We were to ship both our boys to an international trip for "Week without Walls".  Tintin goes to Uttarakhand while Neo to Sri Lanka. While Tintin is 14 so I am less concerned but Neo to me is still a baby at 9. He hasn't travelled anywhere by himself without his parents. He has been fortunate so far to have 3 parents- the two of us and our help who is just as much a parent to him. Spoils him silly and also scolds him from time to time. In fact the help, Nila, confided to me that she was extremely worried that we agreed to send him to this trip. She was not sure if Neo will be able to take care of himself. In any case, Neo was keen on going. But I must admit I agreed to this trip for him without too much thought. Then it was a case of playing out all kinds of untoward scenarios in my head and picturing how the little fellow might cope. I know there will be teachers and support staff who have done this many times, but when t...

 Slowly but surely Tilo and I are making music that is generating a bit of interest. Although our repertoire is narrow and our audience is largely small, and fractionated heavily on the basis of multiple interests that often trump an interest in music or at least in an interest in our kind of music. We call ourselves "StandBy"- a duo with me on Guitar and Vocals and she on vocals. I did not think about this with any seriousness earlier but it soon became evident that because of the register that I sing in , our voices blended in a somewhat unique way. Not in the way of Roxette, or the various bollywood singing duos that belt our romantic numbers, but in a way where the voices blend without a big spacing in octave. You might be forgiven for thinking of us as two female singers. I take on the duties of the upper harmony which has to go much higher than her register ( which is already high as she is a female singer). She is trained vocalist so the melody lines coming form her ar...

 So what of Climate Change? Is it a thing? I think it is. Anecdotally, I feel like every year is getting warmer. But the real question is, so what? The Climate Activists are decidedly politically motivated and the naysayers seem likewise. An intelligent discussion therefore is almost impossible to be forthcoming. One podcast I listened to tried to analyze the problem I wouldn't say it got very far but it did raise some important points. One was that  our earth had been through passages of time that were much colder as well as much Warmer than now. We had a period with about four times the level of Carbon Dioxide in the atmosphere. Yet, and this was the mesozoic age, the trees and plants had huge leaves, and the size of mammals were monstrous ( think dinosaurs). So a warmer temperature did not imply an apocalypse in and of itself. Another was that trying to push for climate change by reducing emissions was a poor strategy. For one, reducing emissions was expensive and was the p...

The course at INSEAD I paid least attention to was Organizational Behavior. There was this American Professor who, while being very friendly in an easygoing American way, was nevertheless regarded as somewhat arrogant by a large section of the class. There was an altercation between him and a Swedish student in the class - and this led to a set of embarrassing moments during the lesson. The next day, the Professor apologized for his behavior and donated a bottle of Champagne to the class- which would be duly consumed in one of the innumerable parties that were always on.   Personally, I did not have a problem with him- at least not until the end of the term. I was an Indian national who had lived in the American Midwest for the past 6 or 7 years- hence, I was always pleasantly surprised to come across an American Professor while in alien France.  Just to hear that all too familiar accent was so heartwarming and reminded me of home. It was still home, although I had someho...

  It takes absolutely no time to fall behind on the writing scheme. This morning I realize I am already behind, just after I was feeling good to have completed the first month as per plan. This requires some serious writing discipline. It is an interesting experience and one that you never really can grapple with until you actually do. I heard somewhere that Anthony Bourdain used to wake up very early each day and write. Now he was a chef, so his usual routine, as far as I can remember from his “kitchen confidential” masterpiece, was drinking until 4AM. So unless he was sleeping for one hour I am not sure how he managed to wake up, let alone write. But I suspect he did, there is no other way to be able to write a book, especially if you are in a grueling job. When I look at my job, it is not close to as grueling as a chef’s and yet he is the chap that has published not one but several volumes and I have just consistently done nothing but flatter to deceive. It is curious how I have...

This rabid don't that is raging across India- and perhaps even more so in India's diaspora needs some discussion. It has really torn me asunder. I really like the narrative that pits the hindus as a victim of some atrocity- inflicted over thousands of years by non-hinds, non-Indians. It makes for a sensual story- the kind that has the power of inspiring a revenge movie like those created by Tarantino -think Kill Bill. Lots of intellectuals have been making this point. Our history has been written in such a way so as to depict hindus as losers. And over the years and until know we have lost all sense of pride in our faith. It is perhaps quite true. Now, this theme is being taken up for redressal by the ruling Political Party-and herein lies the problem. If hindus as a people have been sidelined and dominated, then is it is a moral and ethical imperative for their lot to come around from this abyss. But if it is instigated by a Political Party, then it immediately loses its authe...

 Another short Friday, but had some meetings scheduled in the morning. I was a bit agitated about the sale of my Audi Q7. I settled for.a very low sale price, but somehow it still wasn't closing the sale in a timely manner. More inspections, the end-user complaining of some noise form the engine and so on.  My car, thus, was not on my person anymore . But there was no transfer of title yet. Which means I haven't even begun to get paid for the car. In this state of limbo, my mind was unsettled and this made it difficult to concentrate on work matters. There were also so many other matters to concentrate on. the boys upcoming school excursions, the house party on Feb 10 which required that I get a bit gig ready on 5 songs at least. Not to mention the work out the catering aspects. Then there was the issue of my ICICI debit card which still has not made it to my Jamshedpur residence. I am waiting for my parents to return following which I will make yet another call to the bank...

  Last week, days before what seemed to be an unravelling of the second coming of our brilliant goa reunion of schoolmates in 2017, I put this lesson into action- and I must say it paid off spectacularly. It all began in mid 2017 when a few of us that had been somewhat close at school and were in the vicinity of India wanted to organise a reunion in Goa. That was anything but unique- loads of people organise reunions in Goa- it is one of the emerging cliches of the better-heeled Indians from Generation X and Y.  It was a closed invitation to 20-odd people of which 13 accepted. I think it was  doha- based Nishith and mumbai- based Roopa who led the charge with the organising. We were 5 or 6 in dubai from our graduating class- quite a significant number-of which 4 of us agreed to make the trip in the end. There was a party of 3 from mumbai, 1 from bangalore, 2 from Gurgaon, 1 from Pune, 1 from Manila ( though he was a roving lunatic- passed through timezones like underwea...

They say that the second coming is never quite the same as the first- and the incandescence of the first time in any successful endeavour is a tough act to follow. Parallels particularly present themselves from the rock music industry where there is a band that brilliantly bursts into the scene and produces some magic on their first album- never to quite repeat that ever again. Infact , our own bangla band in Singapore was a bit like that. In 2011 no one expected much from a pot pourri of amateurs that were only marginally bengali or even Indian to begin with but who took the stage innocuously at 9.30 pm on Nabami Night. What followed were some high quality renditions of familiar band songs. It left many people in the audience in awe- not just entertained. Bengalis are notoriously squeamish about offering any praise in matters beyond their ken. Music was one of those subjects where they , generally speaking, could be said to profess some degree of knowledge thanks to their well- docume...

The Financial Controller of Basra Gas Corporation-Let us call him Ahmed Hafiz, not least because that was what he was called anyway. ( Maybe there is a reason to use false names, but I have now moved on from this company and couldn’t care less!).   An unusual character- moody. Quiet disposition but prone to being feisty especially on emails. Also kept dropping the MD's name for every little thing. Last time he didn’t have his way he threatened to escalate to my boss mark. Also Andrew, his boss ..and then simon, the MD. What ran in his mind, I often wondered. I have never escalated anything in Shell since my first run in with Maurice Liew in Shell Singapore. The lesson I had learnt is that no good ever comes from an escalation . It states that 2 individuals cannot agree on a decision and therefore someone else must decide for them. Frankly, the decision is what both the individuals are paid to do. Others can do it but then they would not need you. Maurice and I had a war of words ...

  As I now find myself in a job at a local UAE firm, I wanted to reflect on my state of mind a few years earlier, around early 2020. Covid was about to hit but hadn’t quite yet. Over the last 2 years, while I was in a role in Iraq, I had been trying to land my next role. This, in Shell, is as much one’s job as the role itself. Most ambitious people devote 50% of their time to finding the next role- which automatically means they cannot really achieve anything of consequence in their role. Not that it mattered. If someone asks me today if I am happy with my decision to quit Shell in mid 2023, I would have to honestly say that I should have done this in 2020. This is where I felt quite exhausted with the Shell way. Not just with a sense of cynicism as with a sense of fatigue. There is no place that is likely not to generate a sense of futility -at least on some days. But if the will to motor on begins to wane, I think there is not reason to continue. Somehow, it seemed at the time to...

The music I listened to caused a cultural clash at IIT BHU. My first roommate realised I am an UBI- a derogatory term to denote a person with a lack of interest in one’s own rich culture and a blind following of western cultural artefacts. In general, this was a trait observed within kids in India who went to christian missionary schools. There were non-missionary schools that were English Medium as well but somehow these institutions went just a further mile to inculcate some indigenous fare when it came to music, poetry and dance. The curriculum had Hindi as a second language - a fact that automatically relegated the national language to the barracks. While we read bits and bobs of Premchand and Dinkar now and then, it wasn’t an immersion of the type we had with Shakespeare and Wordsworth. And for the brighter pupils, it was all about maths and science anyway. The missionary school system very subtly (yet probably not in the least by design) created a language divide with English. No...