Meter down

Fact - Cabbies in Mumbai have become so choosy about the fares they take on that there is a higher likelihood of dear ol' Salman giving you a lift in his gorgeous Audi A8.

Yes, that is a fact. One that has led to many many instances of the overactive BP to shoot above its lakshman-rekha for me. I absolutely can feel the difference. The Mumbai of fifteen years back where any business was good business and today - where even cabbies need their afternoon siesta, evening adda and night-time cuppa.

It flummoxes me. Or did. Until just recently. And dear readers, I believe I have cracked the code.

No, our cabbies have not become owners of super-fabulous hidden treasures, nor have they attained nirvana and no longer want the money. No, they are just managing their time and business better. How?

Mobile phones. The Mumbai of fifteen years ago maybe had a few techno-savvy adults and some tata-birla-godrej-brat-types sporting these gizmos. Obviously no longer the case. Much has been spoken about how mobile phones are and are going to even further transform the lives of the rural population of the country. What is closer to home is the way it has transformed the lives of the cabbies around. Their phone numbers are handy around in the offices and with select individuals and they design their days and nights around these callers. Even the yellow and black ones. So a cab with a couple of drivers stuffed inside snoring away means that they must have done late night or early morning duty and probably have a few such assignments lined up for today also. So no point waking them up.

Gone are the days when you could just hail a cab and expect it to take whatever you had to offer. If you want constant and uninterrupted taxi service, then get to know a cabbie, get his mobile number and be sure to call him a couple of hours before you want to go someplace. Yes, such is life. Supply and demand. If you don't like, become a cabbie yourself or if you are the Forbes 500 variety, start a taxi service.

Love-shove

I am not a big fan of Valentine's day. Have always been conflicted about it, like I have about most things. So a part of me shuns the 'celebration' so to say but another part (or maybe the same sneaky part) also likes it when there is something special going on.

But this post is not about that. Let me get to the point.

V-day 2009 - A and I decided not to give each other anything for V-Day, or behave as if it meant anything to our hardened twenty-six year old selves. It was the first one for us and soon after we had started going out. Mush has pretty much been anathema for me upwards of the age of twenty. So we decided not to bite the bait of commercialization. Lo and behold, I was gifted a sweet little expensive Swarovski teddy bear (I still don't know what to do with it) No fair, Mr A, said I! But secretly, I loved the gesture.

V-day 2010 - Again we didn't make a big deal of it. It was like any other day with maybe more fine in the dine than otherwise. But I woke up to the smell of roses. My secret evil little self did dance a little jig of joy.

Now cut to V-day 2011 - I go to office, travel to my market even, come back early, feel terrible about not getting him anything , go rushing to the nearest boutique, grab something that would look good on him (admittedly not the best threads in town, but it is about tradition, isn't it?) and get back in time to get ready and looking good. He comes sauntering in, carrying his self and his declarations of love, sans any restaurant bookings even.

Sigh. I read someplace recently that 'Fairy tales do for women for porn does for men - set unrealistic expectations'. While no rustic hillbilly in the department of charm and chivalry, A has come of age I guess. His acts of love have transformed from getting me flowers to getting me a Demat account. Well, love has many forms, and then again, so does a Demat account.

Chronicles of a shameless bride-to-be

Of course it has been too long. And don't tell me you didn't miss me.

Somehow, I don't feel like writing so much nowadays. While trying to make output a significant multiple of input in the machine that is my life, I let the music pass by.

Writing is like music. It is no surprise then that the times I feel like writing the most, when the desire grips me like a heart attack are when I am watching something sublime or when I am listening to some great music or when my brain cells are mildly soaking in alcohol.

Yes, the good life. The good life makes me want to take to the pen with a vengeance and churn out philosophy and literature. 

While on the subject of music, it is a gift to be able to get this affected by it. Not everyone is. And I sort of feel sorry for them. Music to me is more than just something pleasant to listen to. It defines my moods, takes me routinely to my happy places, inspires me, provides an uplifting force when I am Down in the D's.

Back to more mundane things, shaadi preparation is languishing and I am not able to bring myself to do anything about it. It is a good thing then I don't have to do much. The honeymoon location has been settled upon and not much progress has been made beyond it. Ankit thinks that I am the biggest free-rider that ever lived and I quite agree with him on that. He tried very hard to make me take a constructive interest in planning it out and I did comply. I lugged around a copy of the Lonely Planet for a while, and I did zero in on the places we should go to. Now it's his job to make that happen, innit? Work-wise this is the year when I am going to set myself on fire. Like they say - Success is not a result of self-combustion, it is the consequence of setting yourself on fire; and I believe I need that kind of success to be able to give it up someday with the satisfaction of been there and having done that well. Wonder of wonders, I am losing weight as well. A result of drastic changes in eating habits I am sorry to say, and not a healthy well-exercised body. But I have tried so hard to put in the right process for so long, it just does not work out. What with shuttling between office and travel and JVLR, gymming is a distant dream. Well, I should have a bit more stability in my life once there aren't two homes to toggle between and then I shall valiantly take it up again. For now, this will have to do. Nobody wants to see a pudgy bride.

And then there is the usual reading, watching movies and totally living it up on the weekends happening. Have been getting back in touch with some long lost pals - school friends, only to happily realize that not much has changed. And here is a theory - kids who perform well in school tend to continue to perform well all throughout life. They find rewarding pursuits like banking, business management, high-flying consulting and marketing careers and do as well at those as they did at their geography and algebra. The seeds of confirming to conventional standards of success sown early bear fruit all through. Well, congratulations to us.

On another rather fruity note, I have also become quite the winophile off-late. Vodka mixed with red bull in paper cups is a distant memory. Tis Merlot and Sauvignon which do it for me now. I do manage to lead a good life when I am not prancing around in a sack or clothes which look like that in some rat-infested godown, you see.