A year later...

This day last year was a profoundly sad day for me. My mentor- Abhijit De passed on and some parts of a world I was building for me came crashing down. A year later, I find myself re-building, re-evaluating and re-calibrating. I’ve worked with him on various projects from when I was still in college till last year and that experience and learning has been invaluable for me. He encouraged me, guided me with his erudite design philosophy and his appreciation for all the finer things in life. Not just to me, but to so many of us. And everyone one has their own special connection with him.

Today I’m at the very place I really got to connect with him, understand his life philosophy and his work. This was during our second year study tour to Auroville, when he was our design guide. It was his very first study tour with students.

We chatted over long Auroville lunches and breaks between study visits to buildings about art, architecture, and symbolism. About learning to brutally criticise architecture. About the very many connections he has with people from various backgrounds. About books, philosophy and food. We spent hours discussing our lives, what it means to be an architect over countless games of rummy in the train. And I started understanding him. In many ways he understood the world, yet couldn’t navigate his way through it. Taking every setback in his stride and using such opportunities to re-evaluate, re-calibrate and rebuild. He- like my father, left me with the confidence which helped me understand and face this world better in the many different ways even they couldn’t. They both gave selflessly, throughout their lives and even after it. What gift could be better than this? And I didn’t even realise it till they left me with it.

So it’s only fitting that I find myself in Auroville today. Where I really met my mentor. And the place I had the motivation and confidence to live in after my father passed on: Re-building, re-evaluating and re-calibrating.

Handy worker

I have been relying on experts to fix a lot of gadgets at home lately because daily house tech growing more and more complicated the better it becomes. Sure it breaks down less, but one can't fix it on one's own when it does... Or so I though till a very enthusiastic plumber showed me otherwise. 

I had fancy high tech concealed flush tanks installed in toilets at home last year and felt happy about how neat everything looked. I also assumed that these fancy flush tanks with their European engineering do not need much maintenance but we live in India. It can neutralise any bit of great engineering/tech. When one tank started leaking, even the contractor wouldn't trust his own plumber to fix it! When the fancy plumber trained by the company arrived he told me that even a tiniest bit of something falling in the overhead water tank can get stuck in the flush tank valve and result in water leaking into the WC. When he realised I was an architect, he demonstrated how this can be fixed. It seemed simple enough. I was confident I could fix it in the future. And the time to prove my mettle came almost half a year later when another tank started leaking.

The tricky part about fixing a leak in the tank is that it has to be done partly in the blind. The opening behind the flush plate is quite small and trying to fix it feels like a dentist fixing someone's teeth *Shudders*. I was trying to remember what I needed to do. removing the flush plate was only the beginning. Had to remove the actual flush lever parts to be able to access the fill valve which is to the left. So one can't really see it while shutting off the water supply, unlocking the clip and snapping it out of the inlet. When the thing came out, and I removed the top clip to open and clean it, the whole thing just came apart. Disintegrated right in front of my eyes. High drama, but it's meant to do that after all. Spotted the problem and cleaned it.

Snapped the valve back in place, locked the clip, switched the valve on and wasted another 10-15 L of water to check if it had stopped leaking. It had. Fixed the rest of it back in place and realised I may never need to call a plumber again. After having spent twenty minutes studying the internal workings of this flush tank, I believe I can fix other parts of the flush tank or install replacements on my own too.

There is a method to the complicated European engineering madness. Once you understand one tiny bit, it's not difficult to figure out the rest. Having said that, I'm never attempting to fix the washing machine on my own.

The cost of being single

Let me start with saying that it's not an emotional or psychological cost. That is a breeze to handle. It's economic.

Now I'm no economist. And I haven't done an extensive cost comparison, But I earn and spend money, pay taxes and I generally you know... live and interact with my not single friends. So of late I've come to the conclusion that I spend more money than my friends who were married or in a relationship. While chatting with a male friend about this it was brought to my notice that it's not applicable to: 1. Single men, 2. Women in their 20s

So let's just say that it's probably applicable to women similar to me. I had a fairly cheaper lifestyle during my 20s which wasn't that long ago. But there was quite a drastic shift in my life and priorities once I was 30. Obviously since I started earning more, I could spend more, but most of the times - only for one. Which my married friends weren't. And many things become cheaper for couples or people in a group. Couples memberships, group discounts and holidays! Traveling alone is definitely more expensive that traveling in pairs or larger groups. I can't halve the quantity of anything that a couple buys for themselves. It's always more that half. For example: A single bed spread costs more than half of a double and sometimes it's even more expensive than the double bedspread! purely because it needs more than half the cloth required for it't bigger counterpart.

I spend more money on safety and peace of mind too. Since I'm alone most of the time, I need to either drive or take a taxi rather than public transport especially if it's later in life. Being with a companion rather reduces that concern and the cost drastically. Men on the other hand don't have the same kind of concerns the way women have.

So why don't I plan more activities with my friends you ask? When you are at the age I am or beyond, most of your friends are in stable relationships or are already married and have at least one kid they're planning most activities as couples or as larger families (OR with other married couples) and co-ordinating with various friends to plan activities is exhausting for me as a single person. I used to play so many group sports like badminton which made recreation cheaper. Now, I have to rely on more expensive activities like swimming. Not that married people don't spend on these, but since memberships for couples and families are cheaper, and commuting to and from these places is cheaper if you are more than one person. You simply need to own more things for a 

As a single person, gifting becomes that much more complicated. Especially when you don't have common friends to pool resources to gift as well. As a couple or a family, one gets away with buying a single present between them but as a single person, I cannot possibly gift half of it, can I?

This hypothesis may fall flat when comparing to my friends who have children as it definitely is more expensive when one member of the family is not earning and needs the most expensive things, but lets not get that in the mix.

I am not even bringing up the following fact(ors):

1. Women in urban India (whether single or not) have to spend more than their male counterparts because of the so called Pink tax etc.

2. My friends' spouses gift them expensive essential stuff which I have to buy for myself! (ok I admit that i'm just being jealous now.)

3. I spend a lot on my interests, even useless ones. A lot more than what most people do.

And I suppose as far as resource management goes, being in a relationship or being married is better for the environment than being single. Damn.

The best is yet to come.

I have a shirt I sleep in that says so.

Yes, the dreams I dream about often outdo my previous ones, but I’m not too worried about the best when I’m asleep. I’m worried about the best when I’m awake. Every time I make something interesting which according to me is fairly well executed in its intended medium, I have very worrisome thoughts: 

What if this is the last best idea I’ll ever have? 

What if I’ve exhausted my brain capacity (ha!) and my creativity? 

What if from this day onwards, I have nothing but a string of terrible, unoriginal ideas till I die? 

What if my best came and went many years ago, and I’m living in an illusion created by my mind? 

I struggle with this quite often but I also know that our brains don’t work that way. Yet I can’t help thinking that there is a limit of creative thought per person and maybe  I’ve already crossed it. The only way I deal with this is by pushing myself harder every time. It gets overly exhausting quite often and doesn’t work sometimes, but at least it assures me that I still have some ideas left in there and it helps me sleep better.

Ps: is it just me or does everyone’s mind play that background old black and white movie ending trumpet music when they write the last word of a blog post?

FOMO Friendship

I've managed to overcome FOMO significantly since 2014. My mind has learned to give up and accept that there are some things I cannot/should not give my time and effort to.

But for the first time in my life I'm feel FOMO towards a person. It's not the best way to express it, I understand. But I desperately want to know this person and be friends with them before it's too late. It's confusing to say the least because before now there've been times when I've wanted to know people but not let them know me. Most of my friendships and interactions begin organically otherwise. This time it's almost like I want us to be friends or such before something/someone else occupies their life to be able to give me time. And it's almost feels like if I let a chance for this interaction go now, I will be missing out on something major in my life which I just cannot know at this time.

How bizarre is this?

Spent brain

Unlike last year's inktober, this time I was hoping to draw some high brow ideas with more colours and styles. But I haven't been able to because of two reasons: 

1. Let's be honest, I'm not a high brow person. At all. But I wanted to think a bit differently that I usually do. 

2. I've been doing too many things at once (All this after deciding to prioritise and having to give up certain activities for some peace of mind.) 

Following inktober prompts and coming up with some different sketches requires a bit of thought but I've been spreading my brain thin and scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas (although one might argue that the brain is a bottomless pit of ideas where most of them eventually go to die.) I constantly try to make my brain work more but alas, I have finally accepted that mine has it's limits. But I'm hoping i can manage to find more time to at least think of better things to draw the rest of this #inktober.

Firm believer

Last week at yoga, someone came up to me and said 'My cousin's daughter joined your firm.' and for a second I froze and I thought... Which firm? What employee?

I am a hundred percent sure it showed on my face.

Fortunately a second later (which felt like a few awkward minutes of me performing some mental and facial gymnastics) I remembered... My firm. My employees. 

It's been more than four years since my friend and I started a firm, but it seems that this still hasn't sunk in. I may need to confront this issue.

Seoul Searching.

Having taken many solo trips around the country, I decided to treat me self to a vacation to Seoul last year. 

I’ve never argued this before but I believe that a solo trip in India for a female traveler is often more challenging than one abroad, but like many other threads on this blog, it’s a discussion for another day (read never... only if you got to see my drafts folder!)

I never really intended to visit Seoul. Except for a brief period in 2002 when Korea hosted the FIFA World Cup and they advertised Korea as ‘Japan, but cheaper.’ As a matter of fact the original plan was to make a solo trip to Japan in 2016 but that didn’t happen for a variety of reasons. Then one day, Foo Fighters announced their 2017 Asia tour dates to Japan, Seoul, Singapore and Thailand. “Hmmm...” as my brain thought “It’s a perfect opportunity for me to visit Japan AND enjoy a Foo Fighters performance!” But... They were headlining a music fest. I would have had to buy tickets to the festival itself. Now, I do not enjoy music festivals as much as I would like to and I’ve never fully understood the reason for it, but I do like music concerts and band performances. So I was getting less and less invested in my Japanese vacation and looked closer towards home. Singapore or Thailand would have been cheaper and easier for sure but I've never really wanted to visit Singapore or Thailand.

But Korea: so much like Japan. East enough. Unique enough. Quirky enough. Cheaper than Japan enough. And Foo Fighters at Jamisil stadium enough. Also performing was Liam Gallagher. Sure, why not. (And he sang Wonderwall during his set, how could he not!) So I booked my concert ticket online in May and declared my intention to visit Seoul.

I begun planning the rest of my trip to Seoul. I love it when I’m going to a place alone. I can have my own agenda and PoA. Like:

Meet and hang out with new people on activities like a small group food tour (which I suggest wherever possible.) Walk into impromptu hip hop concerts in public squares with aforementioned new person(s) (that happened btw.) Find out a lot of Koreans attend concerts alone. Yes even women. I’m not comfortable doing that in India even when I really want to. I’ve done it before and it’s uncomfortable AF. But here I was with my people. Cycle around the city exploring it on the day it rained so much even the locals were complaining and get soaked to the bone yet not fall sick.Have an extremely grumpy old man instruct, nay scold me in a pottery shop on how to select the wares and after getting my ethnicity right after ten minutes of guesswork cracking me the biggest smile, giving me a discount and rolling my purchase on large sheets of delicate handmade paper someone practiced Korean calligraphy on. I’ve carefully unrolled and pressed those sheets on my return. (There’s nothing rude written on it, I checked on google translate)

A week before my trip, I found out that a friend’s cousin lived in Seoul with his wife and their baby and I volunteered to transport some dry Indian rations for them. It was fun meeting them, I must say. It seems there are more than five thousand Indians living in Seoul many of who are students studying in the many universities dotting the city. And the funny part is, there are many Korean students studying in schools in Pune. Since the medium of studies in public school education there is in Korean, they can’t speak much English. And like any good Asians (I mean the entire continent) their ultimate aim is to migrate to the USA. They send their children to live in India and study in good schools here where the medium of learning is English. And where the fees and stay are cheaper than living in Korea and studying in an international school. Interacting with the locals, it seemed to me that the pressure on an Indian child to do well in exams and succeed in life is nothing compared to what the Korean kids go through.

I loved every moment of my Seoul sojourn. And Soju. I learned how to make a Soju Bomb- a cocktail with Soju, beer and Coca Cola or Pepsi If you prefer. The Korean air logo has always reminded me of Pepsi’s old logo. As an army kid I’ve for a brief period lived near an International Airport close to the Cantonment and my terrace was in close visual range to the landing path of aircrafts and I know many airline logos from the late 90s.

My flight had a stopover at HK and since I’ve always wanted to visit HK, I planned take a five day stopover there. 

I decided to take some advice from someone I know who used to live there. He was surprised: ‘what’re you going to do alone in HK for five days?’ 

Well I had no fixed plans. But I had a list of things I wanted to see and do and see and do I did. Alone. And I had the best time. I reached HK the day after Cyclone Hato wrecked havoc there, but no signs of it having struck were visible when I arrived. Barely three days later there was a storm warning and everyone was told to be indoors for more than half the day. HK was a revelation. Like what I had come to expect after having watched countless Jackie Chan movies, but so much more. The 

Where Seoul was quiet and highly civilised and squeaky clean, HK is closer to home. It’s like a slightly more glossy Hollywood dystopian version of Mumbai but slightly cleaner and more vertical. I mean I hardly clicked any photos in portrait mode! Speaking of which, this was the first major holiday of my adult life where I didn’t carry a DSLR. I used my phone(s). I edited photos on my phone and almost a year after my trip to the Far East, I’ve uploaded select photos on Flickr. 

HK fascinated me. The location, topography, the density, noise, verticality, the transport network, rain, humidity, heat, culture, food parks etc etc. The buildings in HK don't have a character, but HK does: The buildings in Hong Kong have no character. But the island does: dense characterless vertical buildings with narrow roads along gradual slopes. And the best part of my trip was a very therapeutic walk on the Peak trail from evening till after sunset to watch the lights come on. Twice.

An interesting bit about my holiday was it’s timing, although I didn’t at the time of planning envisage the repercussions of some delicate geopolitical standoffs. Yes, plural. Because there were two and almost simultaneously and may have potentially had an effect on my holiday had the situations snowballed. Call it instinct, calculated guess, whatever, but I was confident that wouldn't happen. And thankfully my instinct was right. You see, It was August of 2017, The US were facing a North Korean threat and North Korea's militarised zone lies barely a hundred kilometers North of Seoul. Half day DMZ tours are very popular with the tourists, but I've seen enough borders in conflict areas in India to want to see this more. I was told that fewer tourists visited Seoul that season, especially from North America.

The second one was the Indian and Chinese standoff after the Doklam kerfuffle. A couple of days before I flew out from Mumbai, people were beginning to worry. War with China, even a limited one had started to look like a real possibility. It appeared more serious than past standoffs, and I was going to go to HK which is after all, part of China. Someone in Seoul asked me the North Korean situation didn't scare me off when I told him the grim reality of our situation back home. I told him that we are in a constant state of a proxy war with not only Pakistan, but China too. And this flare up for us is just like any other Thursday. We hate it, but have to deal with it to get to Friday. He Said he knew about the Indo-Pak conflict but not about the Chinese problem. Yet, he wasn't surprised: "China is a big headache for us too." Everyone has a Chinese problem it seems. He made another comment that made me think. While talking about his cross country cycling expedition, he asked me if I had heard about Busan. I said I had because the city had hosted the 2002 Asian Games. He looked at me surprised and puzzled. "How do you know about the Asian games?" he asked. "Because my country participates in them." I replied. He thought for a second and said "Oh right... India is such a big country and identity that I forgot that it's a part of Asia."

On the way to Seoul when tensions between India and China were at their peak, I had a flight changeover at HK where I accidentally walked into the immigration line instead of the transfer gates. The lady at the line asked me to get into a separate line for Indians. On the way from Seoul to HK a week later when tensions were diffused, no separate line.

The excitement didn't end at HK though. A day before I was to fly back, rains lashed and flooded Mumbai and caused a lot of disruption. Flights were cancelled, roads were closed, lots of rumours about the expressway to Mumbai being closed were floating around. Friends were updating me on the situation as it unfolded, but I wasn't too worried. Thankfully the situation wasn't bad when I landed. I got a taxi at midnight to my friend's house, and the roads were empty. Caught a bus to Pune the next afternoon and I was home two weeks later after what was a really good trip!

The sole intention of this post was to share links of my trip photos here. I could have easily done without all this text but sometimes I simply can’t help myself. 

Quota- Unquota

Pune Metro work barricades have been put to good use by protestors demanding reservations for Marathas to block the road hundred meters on either side of my workplace building today. I cannot move out anywhere. Thankfully I have some food and water, access a good loo and internet, so I'm not worried. Not till evening at least. Some of our office staff couldn't have their lunch delivered and found a way to get home in the afternoon. I was a bit worried for them, but now that they're safe at home, It's all right. A few of my friend have been posting about the futility of protesting and harping about the benefits of merit vs. reservations. And I should agree with them, right? Merit is everything. Equal opportunity for all. Right? 

Right... But only if we lived in an ideal society. 

Unfortunately we don't. We may all be equal, but as the saying goes: some of us are more equal than others. Abundant opportunity and lack of roadblocks at almost all levels affords me the luxury to cry 'merit over reservations' but that's not a fair comparison. A person who has fought social and family circumstance and (unfortunately) the social hierarchy at every stage of his or her life doesn't have the same luxury as some of us do. 

Others like me have carpets rolled out for us. Our families encourage us, sometimes even push us to get a 'good' education. A major portion of the family earnings and efforts go towards ensuring we get everything to be able to get into the best institutions and do well for ourselves. And if we don't, we get other opportunities equally easily and there's always someone to fall back on in case things go south.  Are we at an advantage? Yes. And a distinct one at that.  

Suffice it to say, I am pro reservations.

I've had a few arguments with people about this. Even with my own family. And I've realised one thing: I shouldn't take the moral high ground. I might be a bigot in ways no one has pointed out to me yet and till then, I'd like to think that I haven't lost my idealism. Though I am more cynical about everything now than I was ten years ago.

Full Bridge rectifier.

(Misleading title alert!)

I visited Baroda eight years ago and came across a tiny music shop while wandering around the market at night. They had one of those small travel acoustic guitars on display and I knew I had to have it. (Despite already owning a regular sized one.) a small guitar is useful for me since I have short fingers. Not that it makes much of a difference to my less than mediocre guitar skills, but It is also very cute.

Anyway, I bought it at a throwaway price. Only much later would I realise why it was so cheap. But for now, I couldn’t be happier.

It started off great! I loved it and it loved me back. We were good together. We made music together, entertained people and traveled together. It was heavenly. But then the honeymoon ended. I couldn’t manage to keep it in tune for too long. Sometimes it would go off within fifteen minutes! The high e started jarring and buzzing. B played differently open vs. While strumming chords.I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. No matter what I tried, it would refuse to tune. Almost felt like I was losing my mojo, you know. Even consulted some friends who simply told me that it’s how it is with these little guitars and that I must live with it. But the other guitars I tuned and played worked perfectly, so I wasn’t the problem, but I would need to fix whatever that was. I worked hard on it. Removed and fixed all the tuning keys properly in alignment. Tried to adjust the nut height (I’m resourceful that way.) Even tried multiple guitar strings. Nothing worked. I kept trying. Kept failing. Then I started neglecting it. And almost gave up. The situation felt hopeless. The last nail in the coffin seemed to be when I decided to visit Spain in May where I intended to get me a new one. But something inside me resisted. I went for a flamenco show and ended up buying cheap castanets instead (Worth every one of the six euro I spent on them.)

I came back determined to fix my little guitar. After a few days of dilly-dallying, I finally managed to take it out of its dusty case, clean it, took a deep breath, coughed (we live in a dusty country) and began working on it. I knew most problems arose because the high e and b strings were touching the first and second fret. I had in the past, tried to adjust the nut. And it was impossible to remove and adjust the frets without damaging the guitar. The poor thing. I thought it’s finally over. But then one day I had a brainwave. Maybe I was tackling the wrong end. Maybe it wasn’t the nuts and the fret but the bridge. 

The bridge! I took a close look and the saddle looked exactly like it was how it should look. But something wasn’t right. I removed the strings yet again, and started adjusting the height of the bridge a millimetre at a time (I really am all kinds of resourceful.)

Bit by bit the sound improved. With a few trials I thought I finally did it. And oh boy was it perfect! It was well past midnight but we were making the sweetest sounds we’ve ever made and I wasn’t about to stop right then. It didn’t go out of tune even once. The e string stopped jarring and buzzing and even the b played perfectly.

And this wasn’t even a one off! I played it again a couple of days later and again and again. It wasn’t out of tune! Just a couple of adjustments and it was perfect again. No more jarring, no more buzzing. No more going horribly out of tune again!

Looking back, I can say that fixing something you love and believe in takes time, effort and commitment. The journey is long, winding and hard. But in the end it’s all worth it. A little flaw was the reason it was so cheap in the first place. But all it took was a small adjustment and some time and a tiny effort to make my little guitar great again.

And after all the bridge repairs, as I try playing some truly terrible acoustic versions of awesome AC/DC songs, you may call me (as the title of the post suggests) a Full Bridge rectifier. 

Things we do to cope with the tragicomedy of life in India.

I came across a video on twitter that shows a mobile traffic signal being carried away by gushing streams of water on the streets on Mumbai in the monsoons. Think about it... the system was designed hundred years ago for probably a hundredth of the current population. There’s nowhere for the water to go. We’ve left no place for it! And instead of flowing through drains clogged with plastic, water- being the way that it is (fluid) finds the path of least resistance which happen to be roads surrounded by tall buildings. This is the perfect water channel. And because it’s narrow, the water flows with a force that can take people and other objects along with it.

Now that video itself is more tragic than comic but the comment with it in the tweet made me laugh so hard, I had tears in my eyes. That’s real tragicomedy right there. The caption read: ‘Pehli baar signal khud road cross kar raha hai.’ This made all the difference between hopelessness and laughter. Its the ‘I live in a shit country but at least I can laugh about it’ syndrome.

But I don’t know how long I can keep making statements like ‘I live in a shit country.’ I have to admit that things are changing quite fast. The current govt is working with tremendous will, force and speed to make saying such things illegal.

That day might come soon. Till then I can say such things because I have freedom of speech and I’m still privileged. We make jokes about these things and that makes it a little better for us to cope with life.

It may also subdue any will to solve these issues but that’s a discussion for another day (i.e. never.)

Handing over.

Earlier this week, I quite ceremoniously handed over to my cousin a relic from what now seems like a very different life. I used to be someone tinkering with cameras and had gained quite a reputation among local photographers as being fairly fearless with them. Cameras I mean. I shot film, experimented with it too. Fixed many cameras which were donated to me since people found no need for them once the whole world went digital. This phenomenon predated the boom of mobile phone photography by a substantial number of years.

I don’t tinker with cameras as much now and I don’t experiment with photography either. My work takes up most of my time and I’m known as an architect rather than a photographer. In fact, most people who know me from after 2014 are completely oblivious to that side of me. It really does feels like another life when I was another person. And I have barely fuzzy memories of it.

I don’t really miss it, so why am I digging it all up again?

Because my cousin who is currently studying Film and Television at NYU wants to be a (self proclaimed) hipster-millennial-pretentious-film photography enthusiast. And I couldn’t be happier! She’s the closest I have to a real sister and I would give her anything she asks me for (Except a pair of earrings we fought over almost ten years ago.) She asked if she could have one of my film cameras. So I went to the store room and looked for my favourite Yashica Rangefinder. I cleaned it till it shone, replaced the old scrawny black strap with a scarf strap I’d made for another one of my cameras. Gave her a quick rangefinder tour and film camera lesson. Explained to her how my DIY battery solution worked and how if she ever faced a problem, should just go to BnH photo video and they’ll take complete care of it (I’ve never been to BnH photo video, but if and when I visit NY, that’ll be one of my first stops.)

When I finally took the camera off my neck and gave it to her to wear, she said that it felt like some sort of a formal handing over. Truth be told, I intended it. I wanted her to know that she’s embarking on something special. Something that has added so much value to my life so many years ago. What I loved most was to see the joy and excitement on her face when she saw how the camera works. The manual controls, the pressure one feels from the levers and gears while operating those controls. The viewfinder parallax, the sound of the film winding and shutter opening and closing... I felt nostalgic. Strangely optimistic and extremely happy. And satisfied. I felt most satisfied.

I didn’t just give her a camera and a photography lesson, I gave her a piece of me. And I can’t wait to hear about all the fun she has and all the fantastic things she’ll do with it.

Fare well my Yashica Electro 35. You’re in good hands.

Furter crashes

A day after my last post about reoccurrence of dreams about witnessing plane crashes, I dreamt about some more crashes. Except that those were helicopter crashes. Crashed righ after trying to hover over the building terrace I was standing on. I think one was supposed to pick me up and take me somewhere.

But I haven’t had any more dream crashes since.

recuring dreams redux.

I was sure I was never going to have a dream about witnessing a plane crash again. It’s been years since I did. Till today... when I dreamt of two really low flying planes crashing into each other possibly just after take off and falling too close to me. It was quite terrifying and I was helpless. But more so after I woke up and realised whatever made my subconscious dream of terrible plane crashes hadn’t really gone away. Or it came back. I don’t even know what it is! That made me panic ever so slightly and it takes a lot for me to start panicking at all!

On the other hand, maybe it was a one off dream and there’s nothing to worry about... let’s be optimistic!

Top-ish gear

When I decided to rent a car and drive in Scotland, it was for the most part inspired by Top Gear. I imagined myself being Jeremy Clarkson-esque- driving around the beautiful Scottish countryside with no one else on the roads enjoying the drive.

But it was not to be... for these following reasons:

1. I was driving the cheapest car I could rent which happened to be the Toyota Aygo.

2. Took a lot of concentration to figure out the traffic rules and signages. Sometimes too much signage is confusing. And between them, Laura guiding me and the google Maps lady, I had to really focus quite a bit. And that drains one out.

3. We drove to Bute on a bank holiday weekend. All the roads (and ferries) were full of people like us. Motirbikers were out too and so we generally couldn’t speed for too long.

4. I’m no Jeremy Clarkson. Though, I might be turning into an old cynical man, I’m not there yet.

The Three days of driving along the Scottish coast, countryside and island of Bute was quite and experience. Taking the car to and from Bute by ferry and driving around the island was definitely one of the most enjoyable experiences. With so many roundabouts, and sometimes confusing rules, I was a bit on the edge initially but by day three I was getting a hang of things and driving to and from Loch Lomond was a breeze. It was a typical Scottish summer day- cold, breezy and rainy! This has been one of the best driving experiences I’ve ever had! As I sip my complimentary drink in my hotel lobby, I’m toasting to more such unique drives in different parts of the world in the future!

And on that bombshell, we’ve come to the end of this post.

Unusual songs I want to dance the Salsa to:

Disclaimer: I've only ever taken a grand total of 2 salsa lessons of 45 minutes each. But every time I listen to this song, I want to dance the salsa. Unusual?(Or maybe I’m thinking of the cha cha cha... who knows.) The song, you ask? ‘Hooked on a feeling’ by Blue Swede.

Yes. I was singing this song while writing this post. And thinking about dancing the salsa with a generic awesome dancer. I’m predictable that way.

So long Instagram and thanks for all the fish.

I resisted opening an account on Instagram when everyone was doing it. I finally joined Instagram towards end of 2013 and I’ve been hooked ever since... That is till two months ago and I shouldn’t have said ever since.

The sole reason: Instagram has been showing me too much sponsored content. I hate ads whether they appeal to me or not. Every fifth post and second story is an ad and there is no option to pay for a subscription to avoid them. So I have decided to delete the app for the moment but my account still remains. If Instagram does decide to change its terms and shows me no ads or at least gives me an option to opt out of ads, I might come back to Instagram again. Who knows.

Till then I’ll continue posting on Flickr. (I ❤️ Flickr) 

‘Make Flickr great again!

(Ego) Booster shot.

Unexpected things happened over the last couple of weeks professionally.

1. Slight ego boost: 

My students had their final university thesis viva last week and I got feedback saying it went well and their project selection and design solutions were appreciated. I did not expect that considering the state they were in a few weeks ago. I suppose I expected more than what the university requires, but shouldn't we all? After their juries were over, a few of my students texted me excitedly. I suppose my first experience at guiding thesis students wasn't a complete disaster afterall.

And they don't want me back in second year. Apparently I'm going be the dissertation and thesis guide for students from the upcoming academic year. Exciting times... Maybe I'll thrive. Maybe I'll give up teaching entirely. Who knows.

2. This one is nothing short of a full blown ego boost: 

'Architect and Interiors India' publishes a list of 50 young upcoming architects and interior designers in their yearly anniversary issue. We (M+P architects collaborative) were included in this year's list of 50. Received a lot of love and appreciation for it from family and friends and architects we know. Hey... Every little bit of publicity helps.

And for the first time I shall, on this blog- plug my work website!

Summer is coming.

Not only are urban heat islands increasing the temperature of our cities, that in combination with our technology fueled lifestyle and explosion of urban areas has increased human discomfort in more ways than one. Unfortunately, we equate it all in terms of how hot it is.

AC ki Taisi by Bakarmax 

My 25 year old house used to be fairly comfortable throughout the year till 2016 when the small bungalow in a large plot next door was demolished to make way for a five storeyed apartment building. The trees were intact and there was sufficient space for air flow between the two buildings. Then why was I suddenly feeling hotter than usual? It's because our new neighbours installed air conditioners in their house and the outdoor units were facing the small window of my room which throw out hot air all the way into my room.

I don't have an air conditioner at my house. And I don't want to ever get one. I believe in cooling the natural way by respecting the climate and building spaces which makes a person comfortable if not supercooled (That's what being comfortable has become.) During summers, I sleep on the terrace at night under the stars (and a mosquito net obviously) where I need an extra blanket as it gets quite cold before dawn. One can say I am privileged to have a terrace and a house surrounded by trees and I would agree with them. Then Why do I complain about my neighbours and their air conditioning?

Say I got fed up of my neighbour's hot air throwing air handling unit, shut off the window and installed an air conditioner in my house... Then I will have installed an air conditioner since the air conditioner installed by my neighbour because it's too hot is making it even hotter.

But that's easier said than done. So if push comes to shove and you don't hire me to design an energy efficient house and want to install an air conditioner... What do you do?

I have a recommendation:

Most ACs these days use R410A or R32 (Freon) refrigerants- both hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs)rather than the Ozone destroying hydrochlorofluorocarbon (HCHC)R22 refrigerant which was used earlier.  We're not even talking about CFCs which were banned much before.

Scientists have come up with a very complicated term to compare gases based on their potential to cause global warming. 

It's called GWP (Global Warming potential.) read about it here. 

Let us compare the GWP for different refrigerants: 

For reference, the GWP of CO2 is 1

1. Isobutane (R600A) = 3 

2. Propane (R290) = 3

3. Freon (R32) = 675

4. R22 = 1810

5. R410A = 2088

Why, you may ask are R32 and R410A still used in ACs then? Because unlike R22, they do not have any Ozone depletion potential.

So let's talk about Propane: The first thing that came to my mind when I heard it can be used as a refrigerant is it's high degree of flammability. But one company in India has been able to develop an air conditioning system using Propane and has been manufacturing AC units using this since 2012. It's Godrej. The NXW series. As per their statistics, they have sold more than 1,00,000 units in India. So why don't more international brands going the Godrej way? 

Ans: Difference in safety standards. 

International brands have to follow stringent standards for their ACs which are American and European mostly (I'm guessing First world Asia i.e. Japan and South Korea follow those same standards)

Godrej operates a quality database that includes service feedback and where complaints and faults are systematically recorded. From this database Mr. Godrej has calculated that their R290 AC has a really tiny fault rate which sounds great unless you're part of the tiny bit.

Obviously as more people start using it, the tech and safety does gets better. There'll be more regulation in place for it and more companies can port to R290 in the future.

Chinese companies too have gotten support from their government to develop R290 Air conditioning systems.

On the other hand, maybe I'm missing something and there's still a case for not using Propane based Air conditioners because we still haven't explored all possible scenarios and materials yet. But some self-research for an informed decision is the way to go ahead. 

P.S.: In case you're wondering... Godrej hasn't paid me to write this post. In fact, no one has.

Zen and the art of online irrelevance.

Looking at my recent drafts on blogger, I realised I was going a bit overboard ranting about a lot of things, people and their behaviour that frustrated me. And I felt unnecessarily irritated with the sudden increase in advertising and aggression on my  social media feeds.

I am an aspirational zen person and till recently, I felt like I was achieving my zen goals. So what went wrong?

Then it struck me: Most of the advertising and content I see on these feeds is in reality targeted towards, and created by people who are younger than I am by at least five to eight years if not more. And while in an ideal scenario I would love to go back to ad-free days with less social media, I can’t without deleting my accounts permanently. I realise that I now possibly fit into the grumpy aunt category (I should ask a young person.) Meanwhile, just the realisation that the ads and the content don’t speak to me and the act of reducing the count of people and topics I actually read about on my social media feeds makes me feel lighter, better, less angry at the world and more zen again. I am being random on purpose so I know that people who I engage with online are really worth engaging with.

Sometimes, personal progress is all about taking a few steps back and being absolutely irrelevant to and on some parts of the internet and the people on it.

Key bored.

I took up many activities during the gap between my 12th exams and college admissions. I had all the time on my hands so I taught 10th std. maths, took lifeguard/life saving lessons and did a short course to become a swimming instructor and spent a good 4-5 hours in the pool daily. Those were the highlights of the summer. But there is a suppressed memory of an activity I took up and it was a traumatic one- synthesiser lessons.

Traumatic because those lessons were boring as hell. The teacher- talented as he was just couldn’t make the lessons engaging or fun. It was so bad that after a month, I gave up playing the keyboard entirely! And what a tragedy it was as before this, I loved playing the harmonium and a small synth I had... without any lessons!

A few months later, I borrowed my uncle’s old acoustic to take some guitar lessons and I’ve been playing ever since. I’m not very good at playing the guitar even now, but really enjoy it.

Then the other day I realised there was an old synth lying around at home. My cousin needed it for practice whenever she visited us during her summer vacations and had since graduated to a bigger one. All the suppressed memories of those traumatic hours spent trying to learn to play the keyboard came back to me, but it was going to be different now. I wasn’t going to take lessons. At least not immediately, and not from that teacher!

I took it out of hiding, cleaned it and plugged it in... The moment I played the first note after

a decade and a half, I realise how much I missed playing the synth.

I’m still pretty bad at it. I can practice and become marginally better. The guitar lessons come in handy and there’s always the Internet for help. But what I really love is how happy it makes me feel... As happy as the times I enjoyed playing the keyboard as a kid so many years ago!

Key bored no more!

Chivalry is not dead. But it's highly overrated.

A couple of years ago, I had a classy Parsi man hold the car door open for me as I got in. And because I was the one driving, he also chided his friend- my male co passanger (and these are his words not mine) 'for getting a lady to drive you around everywhere'. I was impressed by this man. Chivalry was not dead indeed. But while it is overrated, I believe a simpler version of it needs to be ingrained in our everyday lives irrespective of gender or age: common courtesy.

Being polite to everyone, acknowledging the opinion of others, disposing one's own trays in fast food restaurants, letting children voice their opinions in every day decision making, holding the door for someone with their hands full... Small things that make the lives of our fellow human beings just that little bit easier. Often I find people with means not doing something as simple as segregating their wet and dry garbage at home because "What do we pay the cleaning staff for?" But one doesn't realise that just a tiny amount of extra effort by everyone can make someone else's work and life all the more efficient. Especially of those less privileged than us.

It's not easy since being aggressively self centred is often seen as an asset for an individual. On the other hand a courteous attitude is often misused by others. We need to break the militant compartmentalisation we have created. In the larger scheme of things it's what makes the world a better place.

P.S.: One can't be courteous enough!

Words and phrases that are overused and annoy me.

1.  "Invite" only when used as a noun instead of "Invitation"

2.  "Juxtapose", "juxtaposition".

3.  "Problematic"

4.  "Here's the thing"

5.  "That's the thing"

6.  "Technically"

7.  "Right(?)" (Used at the end of random statements, mostly rhetorically.)

8.  "Basically"

9.  "Travel" especially when 'Vacation' will do.

10. "Anyways" (It's just wrong!)

11. "Sort of"

12. "So, ya"

13. "Really" Pronounced as 'Reely'

14. "Kind of”

15. "Like"

16. "Here’s the deal"

17. "Interesting"

18. "Shenanigans"

19. "Take care"

20. "Thoughts and prayers"

Walk like an Egyptian.

I have an absurd theory: That we’re going back to the ways of the ancient Egyptian civilisation.

All right, stay with me for a bit. It all started when I was having a rather cheerful day when suddenly I opened Instagram and saw my feed with the first four out of five posts being cat photos. Including one by my BFF (who till now has claimed she really wasn’t a cat person because cats were cunning and dogs were the real loveable creatures)

My love (read disdain) for cats is well known among my friends. I’m not what they call- a pet person. Although I’m not against pets but I wouldn’t like to have any around me. Especially cats. Yes, they’re photogenic but I don’t know why human being like them so much. So that day it suddenly dawned on me that humankind (really and virtually) collectively loves cats to the point of almost worshipping them. Cats are all over the Internet. Guess which culture worshipped cats? Egyptians.

Exlibris the Egyptian scribe- Asterix and Cleopatra by Goscinni and Uderzo

Second hypothesis: emojis. Yes. Egyptians were the true inventors of emojis in the form of hieroglyphs. Sure their system might be quite departed from emojis as Hieroglyphics are picture symbols used to represent ideas and sounds (just like the Latin alphabet) from the expressive non verbal but feeling based emoji system (which is a bit too too complex for anyone to fully comprehend as of now.) But it proves than we’re moving towards the more pictographic way of thinking. I for one register and process graphically conveyed information easier than the written word. And I’m sure it’s the same for more and more people around the world. Just to give an example: I associate people’s content online with their display pictures. So while scrolling through my social media feeds, I don’t read their names but see their DPs to understand who’s content it is. So whenever someone changes their DP, I have to rewire my brain accordingly.

Thirdly: Popular leaders with personality quirks and an incessant need to build infrastructure especially for dead people.

So who wants to be Pharaoh?

A rather long reflective post about some partially irrelevant stuff full of parenthesis.

I call my blog experiments in life, love architecture and photography. I have all but given up photography and experimenting with equipment and images. As far as architecture goes, that's something I do experiment in, but don't write about (at least not here) and I've been somewhat unlucky in the love (of all kinds department) so hardly any scope for experimenting there. 

So I've been writing about life in general. No experiments.

Which is okay. I'll keep doing something or the other and that will surely get documented in many of my other blogs (I am a prolific writer. Well, not quite. Just that I wear my writing and content thin over many blogs. Yes it gets diluted and it does eat into my already packed schedule but I must get out of this parenthesis otherwise I'll get stuck in it forever)

But today, I want to write about something significant that happened towards the end of the last year in my professional life. I started teaching in an architecture school as a visiting faculty in 2011. All because De sir cajoled (nay coaxed) me into it. I always wanted to teach but I felt it was too soon and I had nothing to share with the students. But his argument was that no body is really ready for it. One has to start somewhere and evolve. Right. I started off with first year Architectural design and Quickly moved to Second year Architectural design. Architectural education being what it is, and design studio sessions being  what they are, my job was never giving lectures, but giving design gyaan and being a guide to the students. Well, not entirely. These do include an occasional lecture or two, but no standard stuff. It could even be a strong opinion monolog, or a presentation (with lots of graphics and one liners) one has to give to inspire students to design better.

So after almost five years of guiding second year students with their design projects, I finally thought of taking a semester off. Which doesn't mean much because I visit college for four hours only twice a week. and that too only a grand total of about 7-8 months in a year. The remaining work time, I have a busy work schedule as an architect.

Coming back to taking a semester off... Well that didn't happen. What happened instead was this: I was ambushed by the senior faculty and found myself retracting my request for a semester off and agreeing to guide students for their fifth year final design thesis. In my mind I was swearing and you must know that I hardly swear. When I swear I really mean it. So here I was, swearing in my mind, armpits sweating profusely, brain spiralling and my imagination working overtime with numerous scenarios showing me failing each and every one of my students whom I might possibly guide. What... Oh what made such senior, qualified and experienced faculty of one of the better college in town think that I- the unconventional, under-qualified and frankly a bit too casual for school rookie was fit enough to be a thesis guide for the final year students (Incidentally all of whom I had taught in second year.)

I could only think of one thing. Lack of qualified faculty. It's a real thing and they admitted to it too, but also felt that I would be able to guide my students not too shabbily.

Now, here's the irony: My own fifth year thesis was a disaster. I took things too casually. Sure, I had lost my father recently but that honestly isn't an excuse. The fact of the matter is, I am not a hard working person. From the time I remember all my teachers had only one thing to say about me: Can do better if I apply myself. (Well, what am I, fevicol?). My college academic co-ordinator (after repeated warnings and attempted inspirational one on one talks) had given up on his ambitions for me by the time I was in fourth year. And for whatever reason, I don't write exams well despite knowing stuff. AND I HATE STUDYING. It's only after so many years that I realised that I've effectively and systematically obliterated any chance of ever qualifying for a masters course in a good university. And I would expect that the students deserve some guidance by someone who has had a bit more formal education than me. Also, the second reason I was surprised that they asked me to guide students with their thesis is that the academic co-ordinator who had give up on me in college, is the Director of the college I teach at now and is very much involved with the design thesis decisions in the college.

I was already shitting bricks at the prospect of guiding Thesis students, but De sir had suggested the same to me a few months. If my mentor and other sensible senior faculty members had confidence in me, I had (a la sound of music) confidence in sunshine, I had confidence in rain, I had confidence that spring will come again, besides which you see I have confidence in me.

And I had De sir.

And then I didn't.

Gingerly, I have been learning to tread the rather tepid waters that is the all consuming fifth year design thesis. All this while, I thought the second year design discussion with individual students used to overheat my brain. That, in hindsight seems like a walk in the park. What helps is I love to talk design philosophy and construction technology. Quite passionately too. What I lack in experience I'm trying to make up with more reading and exposure. I sometimes do feel I have a bit more experience about some stuff through my travels and all the experiments and interaction with so many professionals from different fields. I'm enjoying the ride, stumbling occasionally and getting guidance from others.

Oh and since I'm a visiting faculty, I don't get paid more for teaching fifth year students. That's a bummer.

So what started off in my mind as a short blog post about me being pseudo-promoted to guiding fifth year students has turned into a rather long pseudo-semi-rant about... well... I don't know what exactly. And since it has been typed in a flow, I'm sure there are many errors. So I'll publish it for now and keep editing as and when I notice them. (I am my worst proof reader, you see.)

I think I overuse/misuse parenthesis. (Also, I love saying parenthesis)