BHAGAT TARACHAND – UNMATCHED VALUE FOR MONEY [VFM] VEGETARIAN FOOD IN MUMBAI
By
VIKRAM KARVE
If you are ravenously hungry on a busy afternoon in the heart Mumbai, head for Bhagat Tarachand (BT). To get there, walk up Kalbadevi Road from Metro, turn right at the Cotton Exchange, and to your left you will see a series of eateries named Bhagat Tarachand. All are equally good and serve similar food, so you can sample them one by one on your numerous visits and decide which one you like. You can also walk up from Crawford Market, through Zaveri Bazar, past the Gold Exchange and Mumbadevi Temple; or from Bhendi Bazar via Pydhonie down Kalbadevi Road. In case you live in the suburbs, get down at Charni Road station, walk down Thakurdwar Road and turn right at Bhuleshwar and walk past the Cotton Exchange. Don’t try to drive down – you’ll go crazy negotiating your way – and besides a brisk walk on a hot and humid Mumbai afternoon will build up a voracious appetite and rapacious thirst – sine qua non for total enjoyment of a delicious nourishing meal.
The first thing to do is to order a “beer bottle” of chilled chaas (buttermilk) to quench your thirst and soothe your parched throat. On your first visit sample the delectable thali comprising varied vegetable dishes, dal and melt-in-the-mouth chappaties. Once you are hooked on, on subsequent visits you can experiment with the variety of rotis and vegetarian delights in Bhagat Tarachand’s culinary repertoire. Each and every dish – the dal fry, paneer bhurji, methi malai mutter, bhindi, even baingan – is superb. Both tastewise and pricewise, Bhagat Tarachand is unmatched – it’s the best value for money vegetarian food in Mumbai.
Once you have relished your hearty meal, leisurely stroll down (digestive walk) past the Cotton Exchange and Panjrapole towards Bhuleshwar, turn right on VP Road towards CP Tank and soon you will reach Bhaishankar Gaurishankar which serves the most delicious lip-smacking rasgullas in Mumbai. As the luscious heavenly syrupy delights melts in your mouth you will experience such a fantastic blissful ecstasy that words cannot describe. A perfect ending to a perfect meal!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Friday, October 27, 2006
ITBHU - My Alma Mater
ITBHU
Institute of Technology
Banaras Hindu University
Varanasi
On what basis do you judge an educational institution – an Engineering College or a B-School? In today’s world there is just one criterion – market value – the starting salaries and campus placement the students get. For today’s students it’s all about money, ambition and careerism – the more exorbitant the astronomical pay packets, and the greater the percentage of lucrative campus placements, the better the institution. And with the increasing commercialization of education, many institutes blatantly compete, advertise and focus on these materialistic aspects to attract students – it’s a rat race.
I feel the cardinal yardstick for appraising the true merit of an educational institution is the value-addition it instills in its students – and I’m not talking of utility value alone; but more importantly the inculcation and enhancement of intrinsic values. The student should feel he or she has changed for the better, professionally and personally; and so should other stakeholders observing the student from the outside be able to discern the value enhancement.
I studied engineering at ITBHU from 1972 to 1977 (first batch IIT JEE) and I experienced the well-rounded value addition I have mentioned above. I did my post graduation at a premier IIT and later taught at a prestigious university, but I cherish my days at ITBHU the most. I knew I was a better man, in my entirety, having passed through the portals of ITBHU, and I’m sure those scrutinizing me from the outside felt the same way.
ITBHU was amalgamated by integrating three of the country’s oldest and best engineering colleges: BENCO (Banaras Engineering College) – the first to introduce the disciplines of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering in India, MINMET – the pioneer in Mining and Metallurgy, and College of Technology – the first to start Chemical and Ceramic Engineering.
In my time it was indeed a center of excellence and a lovely place to be in.
Learning from dedicated Professors, who were authorities in their subjects, amidst excellent academic facilities and ambience, elaborate labs and workshops, lush green campus, comfortable hostels, delicious food, expansive sports fields and beautiful swimming pool, the unique library, and the exquisite temple that added a spiritual quality to the scholarly ambiance – it was an unparalleled experience. One could learn heritage and foreign languages, fine arts, music, indology, philosophy, yoga, pursue hobbies like numismatics – the avenues for learning were mind-boggling. The idyllic environs and sanctimonious atmosphere of BHU were ideal for reflection and contemplation and helped one develop a philosophical attitude to life.
Like all premier institutes ITBHU was fully residential, which fostered camaraderie and facilitated lifelong friendships amongst the alumni. I can never forget those delightful days in Dhanrajgiri, Morvi, Vishwakarma, Vishveswarayya and CV Raman hostels.
Way back then, ITBHU was a wonderful place to study engineering. I wonder what my dear alma mater is like now!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Institute of Technology
Banaras Hindu University
Varanasi
On what basis do you judge an educational institution – an Engineering College or a B-School? In today’s world there is just one criterion – market value – the starting salaries and campus placement the students get. For today’s students it’s all about money, ambition and careerism – the more exorbitant the astronomical pay packets, and the greater the percentage of lucrative campus placements, the better the institution. And with the increasing commercialization of education, many institutes blatantly compete, advertise and focus on these materialistic aspects to attract students – it’s a rat race.
I feel the cardinal yardstick for appraising the true merit of an educational institution is the value-addition it instills in its students – and I’m not talking of utility value alone; but more importantly the inculcation and enhancement of intrinsic values. The student should feel he or she has changed for the better, professionally and personally; and so should other stakeholders observing the student from the outside be able to discern the value enhancement.
I studied engineering at ITBHU from 1972 to 1977 (first batch IIT JEE) and I experienced the well-rounded value addition I have mentioned above. I did my post graduation at a premier IIT and later taught at a prestigious university, but I cherish my days at ITBHU the most. I knew I was a better man, in my entirety, having passed through the portals of ITBHU, and I’m sure those scrutinizing me from the outside felt the same way.
ITBHU was amalgamated by integrating three of the country’s oldest and best engineering colleges: BENCO (Banaras Engineering College) – the first to introduce the disciplines of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering in India, MINMET – the pioneer in Mining and Metallurgy, and College of Technology – the first to start Chemical and Ceramic Engineering.
In my time it was indeed a center of excellence and a lovely place to be in.
Learning from dedicated Professors, who were authorities in their subjects, amidst excellent academic facilities and ambience, elaborate labs and workshops, lush green campus, comfortable hostels, delicious food, expansive sports fields and beautiful swimming pool, the unique library, and the exquisite temple that added a spiritual quality to the scholarly ambiance – it was an unparalleled experience. One could learn heritage and foreign languages, fine arts, music, indology, philosophy, yoga, pursue hobbies like numismatics – the avenues for learning were mind-boggling. The idyllic environs and sanctimonious atmosphere of BHU were ideal for reflection and contemplation and helped one develop a philosophical attitude to life.
Like all premier institutes ITBHU was fully residential, which fostered camaraderie and facilitated lifelong friendships amongst the alumni. I can never forget those delightful days in Dhanrajgiri, Morvi, Vishwakarma, Vishveswarayya and CV Raman hostels.
Way back then, ITBHU was a wonderful place to study engineering. I wonder what my dear alma mater is like now!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Thursday, October 26, 2006
THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS
THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS
(a short story)
by
VIKRAM KARVE
A middle aged woman watches the sun set from the balcony of her tenth floor flat of one of those ubiquitous residential “townships” rapidly sprawling and proliferating around the once remote suburb of Aundh on the outskirts of the once beautiful and picturesque city of
“Good news,” his wife says exuberantly, giving him his customary cup of tea.
“What?” the husband asks nonchalantly, carefully pouring the precise amount of tea from the cup into the saucer and lifting the saucer to his lips to enjoy his tea in his usual habitual manner.
“Nalini is pregnant,” the wife exults.
“At long last! I’m so glad she found time from her busy schedule,” the husband comments acerbically and noisily sips his tea in his customary style.
“Don’t be sarcastic. She’s a career woman. Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course I’m happy. I’m over 50 now – it’s high time I became a grandfather.”
“I’ll have to go?”
“Where?”
“For her delivery.”
“To
“Yes. Her due date is sometime in November. I better go as early as possible, maybe in September. Poor thing, it’s her first child. You better get the visas and all ready well in time. Nalini wants me to stay for at least three-four months after her delivery.”
“Three-four months after her delivery? So you’ll be away for nearly six months.”
“Yes. I’m her mother and I have to be there to help her. It’s her first delivery. And that too in
“What about me?”
“You also come and help out.”
“I won’t get six months’ leave.”
“Come for a month. To see the baby. In December.”
“I’ll see. But I don’t like it there. It’s too cold.”
“Then stay here.”
“I wish we hadn’t shifted from Sadashiv Peth.”
“Why? Isn’t this lovely apartment better than those two horrible rented rooms we had? And it’s all thanks to Nalini.”
“I know. I know. Don’t rub it in. But sometimes I wish we hadn’t pushed her into IT. We should have let her study arts, history, literature – whatever she wanted to.”
“And it would have been difficult to find a decent boy for her and she would be languishing like an ordinary housewife with no future; slogging away throughout her life like me.”
“And we would be still staying in the heart of the city and not in the wilderness out here. And you wouldn’t have to go all the way to
“Don’t change the topic.”
“I’m not,” says the husband firmly. “You are not going for Nalini’s delivery to
“But why? She is sending the ticket.”
“It’s not the money. The fact is I don’t want to stay all alone at this age; it’s difficult. And in this godforsaken place full of snobs I don’t even have any friends.”
“Try to understand. I have to be there. It’s her first delivery.”
“Tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t American women have babies?”
“Yes. Of course they do.”
“And do they always have their mothers around pampering them during their deliveries? And then mollycoddling their babies for the next few months, maybe even a year?”
“I don’t know,” she said evading an answer, “for them it’s different.”
“Different?”
“Our kobra girls are najuk.”
“Najuk?”
“Delicate. Fragile.”
“Nonsense. They are as tough as any one else. It’s all in the mind. It’s only our mindset that’s different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Thousands of women who have migrated from all over the world are delivering babies in
“Don’t argue with me. It’s our culture, tradition. A daughter’s first delivery is her mother’s responsibility.”
“Culture? Tradition? What nonsense! It’s not culture. It’s attitude! Our people may have physically migrated to
“Please stop your lecturing. I’m fed up of hearing…” the wife pleads.
The husband continues as if he hasn’t heard her, “What they require is attitudinal change and to stop their double standards. Nonsense! Nobody forced them to go to
“Please. Please. Please. Enough! I beg of you. Don’t argue. Just let me go.”
“No. I can’t stay alone for six months. Why should I?”
“Try to understand. I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s our only daughter’s first delivery. I have to be there.”
“Okay. Tell her to come here.”
“Here?”
“Yes. Here. We’ll do her delivery right here in Pune. We’ll go to the best maternity hospital and then you can keep her here as long as you want. She’ll be comfortable, the weather will be good and you can pamper her and her baby to your heart’s content.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’? You went to your mother’s place for your deliveries isn’t it? And came back after the babies were more than three months old.”
“That was different. I wasn’t working.”
“Oh. It’s about her job is it? I’m sure they have maternity leave out there. She can take a break. And if she wants to go back early we’ll look after the kid for a couple of months and then I’ll take leave and we’ll both go and drop him there.”
The wife says nothing.
“Give me the phone. I’ll ring her up and tell her to come here as early as possible. I’ll convince her she will be more comfortable here,” the husband says.
“I’ve already spoken to her,” the wife says.
“And?”
“She wants the baby to be born there. Something about citizenship.”
“So that’s it,” the husband says, “She wants the best of both worlds, isn’t it?”
VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright 2006 Vikram Karve
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Friday, October 13, 2006
Want to Quit Drinking. Try Force Field Analysis.
DO YOU WANT TO QUIT DRINKING?
TRY FORCE FIELD ANALYSIS.
By
VIKRAM KARVE
Many years ago, at work, I used to employ a Management Technique called Force Field Analysis in Project Management. Now I improvise the Force Field Analysis Model to great effect and success, in my personal life too for self improvement, to break bad habits – to change my life for the better. So can you. Let me give you an example.
It was a tough and stressful working day. It was hot and humid, I was tired, sweating profusely, my throat parched with thirst, and as I walked home late in the evening, I found myself opposite my favorite bar. I looked yearningly, tempted, overcome by a strong craving, desperate to have a glass of chilled beer. Nothing like a glass of cold beer to drive my blues away – the “panacea” to my “stressed-out” state!
But I didn’t go into the bar. Instead, I rushed to the nearest Chaatwala and had some pani-puri. The moment I put the first pani-puri in my mouth, the intense overpowering medley of sweet and sour, pungently hot, fiery and spicy flavor of the chutneys, jal jeera and “pani” overwhelmed me and made my craving thirst for beer disappear pretty fast and enabled me to stick my resolve of giving up drinking.
I had suitably improvised the concept of “Force Field Analysis” to break my drinking habit and then keep it that way. Long back, I had quit smoking too, and to stay that way, make sure I didn’t start again, I used force field analysis with great success.
Force field analysis provides a framework for looking at the factors or forces that influence a situation or activity. Restraining Forces are those which inhibit or discourage the occurrence of a particular activity and Driving Forces are those which promote, facilitate and encourage the occurrence of the same activity.
Let’s take the case of drinking. Sit down, close your eyes, and introspect. Can you identify the stimuli, the triggers, the situations, the driving forces, which create in you the desire and give rise to the urge to drink? These driving forces can be anything, internal and external tangible or intangible – people, situations, events, parties, tendencies, moods, foods, social or organizational trends, practices, norms.
Do a simple exercise. For the next week, or even a month, be yourself, live as you do, but mindfully record all the occasions on which you had alcohol and carefully list the driving forces that motivated you to drink. Was it a social event, party, friends, as an appertif before some gourmet food, smoking, dancing, “creativity”, for reducing inhibitions or enhancing excitement as a prelude to sex, tiredness, happiness, celebration, depression, boredom, the company or memories of some people, sad memories, self pity, jealousy, inner craving, addiction…? Do it thoughtfully and make an exhaustive list of the driving forces.
Now make a list of restraining forces that discourage or inhibit you from drinking. Concern for health, Wife’s nagging? Physical Exercise? Values, religious and cultural taboos, regulations like prohibition and no drinking zones, work and hobbies, social encouragement of temperance. Some types of foods too are effective restraining forces [for me, pani-puri, bhel, jal jeera, lassi are quite effective. Also I lose the urge to drink after a good meal]. Through mindful living and personal experience, record the restraining forces meticulously.
Now all you have to do is to strengthen the restraining forces, mitigate and weaken the driving forces and most importantly, where possible, change direction of some driving forces and convert them into restraining forces by using techniques from concepts like NLP, 4T etc or, best of all, your own improvised techniques [like the in lieu substitution method I have evolved for myself].
Learn how to tactfully and effectively avoid drinking. Suppose your friends try to force you, taunt you saying you are a sissy, spoil sport etc simply say, "I really must go," and leave the place. Remember what Epictetus said: If you want to do something make a habit of it; if you want not to do something refrain from doing it. I’ve also read somewhere: If want to be happily married, remain in the company of happily married people. Always be with likeminded people whom you want to emulate. If you want to stop drinking try to be in the company of non-drinkers.
Avoid situations which elicit craving. Substitute drinking for physical exercise, recreation and creative hobbies. Change your lifestyle, your friends, and your activities.
Identify your stimuli, triggers, situations, people and anchors, internal and external, tangible and intangible – the driving forces that facilitate drinking and mitigate them by improvising force field analysis as suits you best. And do let me know if it worked for you!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
TRY FORCE FIELD ANALYSIS.
By
VIKRAM KARVE
Many years ago, at work, I used to employ a Management Technique called Force Field Analysis in Project Management. Now I improvise the Force Field Analysis Model to great effect and success, in my personal life too for self improvement, to break bad habits – to change my life for the better. So can you. Let me give you an example.
It was a tough and stressful working day. It was hot and humid, I was tired, sweating profusely, my throat parched with thirst, and as I walked home late in the evening, I found myself opposite my favorite bar. I looked yearningly, tempted, overcome by a strong craving, desperate to have a glass of chilled beer. Nothing like a glass of cold beer to drive my blues away – the “panacea” to my “stressed-out” state!
But I didn’t go into the bar. Instead, I rushed to the nearest Chaatwala and had some pani-puri. The moment I put the first pani-puri in my mouth, the intense overpowering medley of sweet and sour, pungently hot, fiery and spicy flavor of the chutneys, jal jeera and “pani” overwhelmed me and made my craving thirst for beer disappear pretty fast and enabled me to stick my resolve of giving up drinking.
I had suitably improvised the concept of “Force Field Analysis” to break my drinking habit and then keep it that way. Long back, I had quit smoking too, and to stay that way, make sure I didn’t start again, I used force field analysis with great success.
Force field analysis provides a framework for looking at the factors or forces that influence a situation or activity. Restraining Forces are those which inhibit or discourage the occurrence of a particular activity and Driving Forces are those which promote, facilitate and encourage the occurrence of the same activity.
Let’s take the case of drinking. Sit down, close your eyes, and introspect. Can you identify the stimuli, the triggers, the situations, the driving forces, which create in you the desire and give rise to the urge to drink? These driving forces can be anything, internal and external tangible or intangible – people, situations, events, parties, tendencies, moods, foods, social or organizational trends, practices, norms.
Do a simple exercise. For the next week, or even a month, be yourself, live as you do, but mindfully record all the occasions on which you had alcohol and carefully list the driving forces that motivated you to drink. Was it a social event, party, friends, as an appertif before some gourmet food, smoking, dancing, “creativity”, for reducing inhibitions or enhancing excitement as a prelude to sex, tiredness, happiness, celebration, depression, boredom, the company or memories of some people, sad memories, self pity, jealousy, inner craving, addiction…? Do it thoughtfully and make an exhaustive list of the driving forces.
Now make a list of restraining forces that discourage or inhibit you from drinking. Concern for health, Wife’s nagging? Physical Exercise? Values, religious and cultural taboos, regulations like prohibition and no drinking zones, work and hobbies, social encouragement of temperance. Some types of foods too are effective restraining forces [for me, pani-puri, bhel, jal jeera, lassi are quite effective. Also I lose the urge to drink after a good meal]. Through mindful living and personal experience, record the restraining forces meticulously.
Now all you have to do is to strengthen the restraining forces, mitigate and weaken the driving forces and most importantly, where possible, change direction of some driving forces and convert them into restraining forces by using techniques from concepts like NLP, 4T etc or, best of all, your own improvised techniques [like the in lieu substitution method I have evolved for myself].
Learn how to tactfully and effectively avoid drinking. Suppose your friends try to force you, taunt you saying you are a sissy, spoil sport etc simply say, "I really must go," and leave the place. Remember what Epictetus said: If you want to do something make a habit of it; if you want not to do something refrain from doing it. I’ve also read somewhere: If want to be happily married, remain in the company of happily married people. Always be with likeminded people whom you want to emulate. If you want to stop drinking try to be in the company of non-drinkers.
Avoid situations which elicit craving. Substitute drinking for physical exercise, recreation and creative hobbies. Change your lifestyle, your friends, and your activities.
Identify your stimuli, triggers, situations, people and anchors, internal and external, tangible and intangible – the driving forces that facilitate drinking and mitigate them by improvising force field analysis as suits you best. And do let me know if it worked for you!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
The Art of Living
The Art of Living
(a book review)
By
Vikram Karve
I’ve got a wonderful book in my bookcase. It’s called The Art of Living: The Classic Manual on Virtue, Happiness, and Effectiveness, a new interpretation by Sharon Lebell. The compact book encapsulates in a nutshell the salient teachings of Epictetus, the great Stoic philosopher.
Whenever I buy a book I write my name, the date and place of purchase on the first page. I bought this book from one of my favorite bookstores Gangaram’s Bangalore on 18 August 1999. There was a time, in the nineties, when I used to visit Bangalore very often. I ensured I stayed somewhere near MG Road, and spend the evenings strolling in the delightful area around MG Road and Brigade Road. A delightful meal of the scrumptious Kerala delicacies like Stew, Appams, Parotta and the Ghee Rice at Imperial on Residency Road, baked delights at Nilgiri, Rosogullas at KC Das and Book Browsing at Gangarams Book Bureau were an absolute must. It’s been six years now, I cherish those memories and hope I get a chance to visit Bangalore soon.
Now let’s have a look at a few gems from this witty and wise book which delves on two basic questions pertaining to the art of living: How do I live a happy, meaningful, fulfilling life? How can I be a good person?
Approach life as a banquet, Epictetus advises. Think of your life as if were a banquet where you would behave graciously. When dishes are passed to you, extend your hand and help yourself to a moderate portion. If a dish should pass you by, enjoy what is already on your plate. Or if a dish hasn’t been passed to you yet, patiently wait your turn… there is no need to yearn, envy, and grab. You will get your rightful portion when it is your time.
Happiness and freedom begin with a clear understanding of one principle: Some things are within our control, and some things are not... and once you learn to distinguish between the two inner tranquility and outer effectiveness become possible.
Events don’t hurt us, only our attitude towards them. Don’t demand or expect that events happen as you would wish them to. Accept events as they actually happen. That way peace is possible.
Create your own merit. Never depend on the admiration of others. Personal merit cannot be derived from an external source. There is no such thing as vicarious merit.
Whereas society regards professional achievement, wealth, power, and fame as desirable and admirable, Epictetus views these as incidental and irrelevant to true happiness. What matters most is what sort of life you are living; a life of virtue, caretaking the present moment. Authentic happiness is always independent of external conditions…your happiness can be found within.
This captivating book has had a profound effect on me; my way of thinking and living, and motivated me to delve into the life and works of Epictetus in more detail and it was heartening to see the congruence and harmony of the teachings of Epictetus with Eastern philosophical wisdom and precepts.
I’m glad I bought this splendid book. It cost me only ninety five rupees. Go down to your neighborhood bookstore and browse through it. I’m sure you will love to have a copy in your bookcase.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
(a book review)
By
Vikram Karve
I’ve got a wonderful book in my bookcase. It’s called The Art of Living: The Classic Manual on Virtue, Happiness, and Effectiveness, a new interpretation by Sharon Lebell. The compact book encapsulates in a nutshell the salient teachings of Epictetus, the great Stoic philosopher.
Whenever I buy a book I write my name, the date and place of purchase on the first page. I bought this book from one of my favorite bookstores Gangaram’s Bangalore on 18 August 1999. There was a time, in the nineties, when I used to visit Bangalore very often. I ensured I stayed somewhere near MG Road, and spend the evenings strolling in the delightful area around MG Road and Brigade Road. A delightful meal of the scrumptious Kerala delicacies like Stew, Appams, Parotta and the Ghee Rice at Imperial on Residency Road, baked delights at Nilgiri, Rosogullas at KC Das and Book Browsing at Gangarams Book Bureau were an absolute must. It’s been six years now, I cherish those memories and hope I get a chance to visit Bangalore soon.
Now let’s have a look at a few gems from this witty and wise book which delves on two basic questions pertaining to the art of living: How do I live a happy, meaningful, fulfilling life? How can I be a good person?
Approach life as a banquet, Epictetus advises. Think of your life as if were a banquet where you would behave graciously. When dishes are passed to you, extend your hand and help yourself to a moderate portion. If a dish should pass you by, enjoy what is already on your plate. Or if a dish hasn’t been passed to you yet, patiently wait your turn… there is no need to yearn, envy, and grab. You will get your rightful portion when it is your time.
Happiness and freedom begin with a clear understanding of one principle: Some things are within our control, and some things are not... and once you learn to distinguish between the two inner tranquility and outer effectiveness become possible.
Events don’t hurt us, only our attitude towards them. Don’t demand or expect that events happen as you would wish them to. Accept events as they actually happen. That way peace is possible.
Create your own merit. Never depend on the admiration of others. Personal merit cannot be derived from an external source. There is no such thing as vicarious merit.
Whereas society regards professional achievement, wealth, power, and fame as desirable and admirable, Epictetus views these as incidental and irrelevant to true happiness. What matters most is what sort of life you are living; a life of virtue, caretaking the present moment. Authentic happiness is always independent of external conditions…your happiness can be found within.
This captivating book has had a profound effect on me; my way of thinking and living, and motivated me to delve into the life and works of Epictetus in more detail and it was heartening to see the congruence and harmony of the teachings of Epictetus with Eastern philosophical wisdom and precepts.
I’m glad I bought this splendid book. It cost me only ninety five rupees. Go down to your neighborhood bookstore and browse through it. I’m sure you will love to have a copy in your bookcase.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Thursday, October 12, 2006
The Art of Eating Green Chilli Ice Cream by Vikram Karve
The Art of Eating Green Chilli Ice Cream
By
Vikram Karve
I’ve just relished a bowl of “green chilli ice cream” and the zestful taste still lingers on my tongue. Never before had I enjoyed eating ice cream so much. It was indeed a unique and passionate eating experience. Let me tell you about it.
I love ice cream. Today morning a friend of mine told me that there is a place opposite the Chowpatty Sea Face in Mumbai India that serves “green chilli” ice cream. I didn’t believe him. I have savored myriad flavours of ice cream but “green chilli ice cream” seemed a bit far fetched. On questioning, my friend confessed that he had only heard about it, not eaten it himself.
The very concept of green chilli ice cream whetted my curiosity so much that at sunset I was standing in front of Bachelorr’s (that’s the spelling on the menu card) Ice Cream and Juice Stall, my appetite fully stimulated by a long brisk walk.
It was there on the menu card – Green Chilli Ice Cream. I ordered it and walked with the bowl to a lonely bench nearby to enjoy the eating experience in glorious solitude.
The ice cream looks a creamy pink (not chilli green as I had expected it to be). I close my eyes and smell the ice cream – a nice sweet milky fragrance, a bit fruity; certainly no trace of the piquant penetrating sting of chillies. With a tremor of trepidation I spoon a bit of the green chilli ice cream on my tongue.
My taste buds are smothered by a sweet mellifluous sensation as the cold creamy ice cream starts melting on my tongue. I am disappointed, feel conned – it seems it was just hype. This is run of the mill stuff. Or is it? Wait a moment. As the ice cream melts away I suddenly feel a sharp piercing fiery taste that sizzles my tongue, stings through my nose and penetrates my brain. My tongue is on fire and, like instant firefighting, I instinctively spoon a blob of ice cream onto my tongue. The cool ice cream quenches my burning tongue with its almost ambrosial taste but the moment it melts away I am zipped like a rocket with the sharp punch of the green chillies.
So that was the art of eating green chilli ice cream. Hot and cold. Scorch and quench. Sting and soothe. Contrasting sensations. Like alternating current. Sharp tangy kicks burning through the cool syrupy sweetness till your system is fully perked up. And a trace of the biting tangy flavour of the green chilli remains within me for a long long time as I walk away.
Green chilli ice cream doesn’t satiate – it excites, stimulates, gives you a “kick”, zests you up. It’s a truly passionate delight.
The next time you are in Mumbai, head for Chowpatty and relish a bowl of green chilli ice cream. And let me know if you liked it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekfha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
By
Vikram Karve
I’ve just relished a bowl of “green chilli ice cream” and the zestful taste still lingers on my tongue. Never before had I enjoyed eating ice cream so much. It was indeed a unique and passionate eating experience. Let me tell you about it.
I love ice cream. Today morning a friend of mine told me that there is a place opposite the Chowpatty Sea Face in Mumbai India that serves “green chilli” ice cream. I didn’t believe him. I have savored myriad flavours of ice cream but “green chilli ice cream” seemed a bit far fetched. On questioning, my friend confessed that he had only heard about it, not eaten it himself.
The very concept of green chilli ice cream whetted my curiosity so much that at sunset I was standing in front of Bachelorr’s (that’s the spelling on the menu card) Ice Cream and Juice Stall, my appetite fully stimulated by a long brisk walk.
It was there on the menu card – Green Chilli Ice Cream. I ordered it and walked with the bowl to a lonely bench nearby to enjoy the eating experience in glorious solitude.
The ice cream looks a creamy pink (not chilli green as I had expected it to be). I close my eyes and smell the ice cream – a nice sweet milky fragrance, a bit fruity; certainly no trace of the piquant penetrating sting of chillies. With a tremor of trepidation I spoon a bit of the green chilli ice cream on my tongue.
My taste buds are smothered by a sweet mellifluous sensation as the cold creamy ice cream starts melting on my tongue. I am disappointed, feel conned – it seems it was just hype. This is run of the mill stuff. Or is it? Wait a moment. As the ice cream melts away I suddenly feel a sharp piercing fiery taste that sizzles my tongue, stings through my nose and penetrates my brain. My tongue is on fire and, like instant firefighting, I instinctively spoon a blob of ice cream onto my tongue. The cool ice cream quenches my burning tongue with its almost ambrosial taste but the moment it melts away I am zipped like a rocket with the sharp punch of the green chillies.
So that was the art of eating green chilli ice cream. Hot and cold. Scorch and quench. Sting and soothe. Contrasting sensations. Like alternating current. Sharp tangy kicks burning through the cool syrupy sweetness till your system is fully perked up. And a trace of the biting tangy flavour of the green chilli remains within me for a long long time as I walk away.
Green chilli ice cream doesn’t satiate – it excites, stimulates, gives you a “kick”, zests you up. It’s a truly passionate delight.
The next time you are in Mumbai, head for Chowpatty and relish a bowl of green chilli ice cream. And let me know if you liked it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekfha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
Monday, October 09, 2006
Kaleidoscope ( fiction short story ) by Vikram Karve
KALEIDOSCOPE
(a fiction short story)
by
VIKRAM KARVE
It’s a lazy Sunday morning and I sit languidly in my balcony reminiscing the good old days of my wonderful past, melancholically mourning the gloomy and depressing present, and speculating with foreboding about what the ominous future may hold in store for me.
The doorbell rings. Cursing at being disturbed from my reverie, and wondering who it is on a Sunday morning, I open the door. It’s Monica, my wife Anjali’s friend and colleague, who lives across the street.
“Anjali is not at home,” I say.
“I know,” she says, “I’ve come to see you.”
“Me?” I stare at her baffled.
“Yes. You. I’ve come to see you. I want to talk to you alone.”
“Alone?” I am curious. We’ve never been alone before.
“Yes. Alone. Won’t you ask me to come in?”
“Of course. Please come in. Shall we sit in the balcony?”
“No. We’ll sit here, so no one will see us and we can talk in private.”
Monica looks chic and ravishing, in tight jeans and a close fitting pink T-shirt. I try not to stare at her.
The moment we sit down on the living room sofa, she says, “Suppose you found out that your wife was being unfaithful. Tell me, Ajay, what would you do?”
Taken aback, I say, “What?”
“Suppose you caught her having an affair.”
“What nonsense!” I say angrily, but inside me there germinates a small seed of doubt. Does Monica know something? Why is she saying all this? Trying to hide my fears, I put up a solid face and say, “Come on Mrs. Kumar. You know Anjali. How much she loves me.”
“Hey, stop calling me Mrs. Kumar. I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” Monica says, looks provocatively into my eyes, and asks, “Suppose, just suppose, you caught your wife having an affair, cheating on you, betraying your trust with infidelity…”
“I’ll kill her,” I say instinctively.
“How?”
“How? What do you mean ‘How’?”
“I mean ‘How’. How will you kill your wife?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I say getting up from the sofa, not wanting to continue this conversation.
“Let’s hypothesize. Would you shoot her? Strangle her? Stab her to death? Suffocate her with a pillow? Push her over the balcony or shove her off a cliff? Electrocute her? Drown her? Douse her with kerosene and set her on fire? An ‘accidental’ gas cylinder explosion?”
“What do you want from me? Why are you harassing me? Please go. Anjali will be here any moment,” I beseech her.
“No, she won’t. I know she’s gone to the health club and parlour. She’ll be back after twelve. We have enough time together, haven’t we?” Monica says mischievously and adds, “Okay, you tell me how you would kill you wife if you caught her having an affair and I’ll go away!”
“I’d probably use poison,” I say and start walking towards the entrance door.
Monica remains seated in silence for some time, and then she looks at me intently and says, her words clear and deliberate, “Poison! The way you finished Nisha, your first wife?”
I stop dead in my tracks. Pole-axed, I can sense a sharp, cold fear drilling into my vitals. I look at Monica, into her shining eyes. She knows! And she wants me to know, that she knows! And now I know that I have no choice. I walk back to my sofa, sit down and say to her, “So you want to kill your husband. Just because you think he is having an affair.”
“You killed Nisha, didn’t you?” she asks, looking directly into my eyes.
I feel very frightened, scared. How much does Monica know? Or is she just speculating, guessing? A shot in the dark. But seeing the venom in her eyes, I realize that I dare not take any chances, so I smile and say, “Well, Monica, you have got your manacles on me, haven’t you?”
“Listen, Ajay,” Monica says, her voice soft, as she speaks in measured tones, “I don’t want a scandal, that’s why I haven’t given him even the slightest hint that I suspect. But I can’t live a lie any longer pretending I am happy. The flimsy façade of our successful marriage, the veneer of pretence – it’s all going to blow-up sooner or later as he is becoming more and more indiscreet and careless.” She pauses for a moment and says, “He’s got to go. Quickly. Quietly. As ‘normal’ a death as you can arrange.”
“Why don’t you leave him? Ask him for a divorce.”
“It’s much better to be a widow than a divorcee, isn’t it?”
I think about what she says. She’s right. It is much better to have all the sympathy of a widow than the stigma of being a divorcee; inherit all her husband’s riches, money, property rather than the paltry alimony. Her husband is rich and successful, and her marriage a social triumph.
“Tell me, who is he having an affair with?” I ask out of sheer curiosity.
“It’s none of your business,” she says angrily. “Just do what I tell you and don’t delve too deeply.”
“I thought maybe…”
“What’s the use? He’ll get another one – bloody philanderer,” Monica says with contempt. “It’s he who has betrayed me and I want to get rid of him fast. You do this for me, Ajay, and my lips remain sealed about Nisha forever. I promise!”
“That’s all?”
“I’ll clear all your gambling debts, your loans, the mortgages – with the bookies, financers…”
Inside I tremble with indescribable terror; outside I try to be calm and say, “You know all about me, don’t you?”
“I’ve done my homework. Now you execute a foolproof plan. And after it’s all over there’ll be plenty more to come for you. So much money, you can’t even imagine!”
“Okay, let’s brainstorm. You tell me everything about your husband. All details. His food habits. His routine. His programme for the next few days. About both of you. Absolutely everything.”
“I’m thirsty,” Monica announces.
“Fresh Lime?”
“How about a beer?”
I get two cans of chilled beer from the fridge.
“Hey,” Monica exclaims holding up a beer can, “you know what? Kumar drinks the same brand of beer as you do! It’s his favorite beer.”
“That’s a good start,” I say and clink my beer can with hers, “Cheers! To our success! Now tell me everything.”
She tells me everything. I listen carefully and make notes. And by the time she finishes, in my mind’s eye I am already evaluating the pros and cons of various options how Kumar is going to die.
“How do you want him to die? Instantaneous, or prolonged illness?” I ask Monica.
“I want to finish it off as quickly as possible. Painless. Fast. When he is far away from here. Like maybe during his trekking trip to Mussoorie next week,” she pauses for a moment and says, “but make sure it’s a perfect foolproof job – not even an iota of doubt or needle of suspicion.”
My mind races, exploring and weighing all the options. An Exotoxin which leaves no trace, excretes itself from the organism within a few hours? I keep on thinking, my brain cells working at lightning speed, and all of a sudden I know what I’m going to do!
“We’ll give him something in his favorite beer,” I say.
“What? Tell me, please!” Monica says excitedly.
“Now you don’t delve too much!” I say haughtily. “Just do what I say. Lips sealed. No questions!”
“Okay.”
I look at the notes I had made when she was telling me about her husband and ask, “His weight is only 70?”
“That’s right. Seventy kilograms. Five feet ten. Thirty Eight years of age. Ideal, isn’t it? He’s a fitness freak.”
“And he leaves for Mussoorie on Thursday?”
“Yes. Early in the morning.”
“Okay,” I say, “I’ll have the beer can ready by Wednesday evening. Make sure you collect it by six before Anjali comes back from office and see that he drinks it…”
“No. No. You serve it to him. Let him have it here. In front of you. Right here.”
“He’s never come here to our place before!”
“He will. If you invite him.”
“Fine. I’ll tell Anjali to invite you all for dinner on Wednesday evening. She’s been wanting to call you over for a long time.”
“And?”
“I’ll make sure your Kumar drinks the special beer. He’ll be off to Mussoorie on Thursday, and you should have the ‘good news’ by Sunday morning.”
“He shouldn’t pop off here.”
“He won’t. I’ll calculate everything precisely – make sure there’s at least a 36 hour incubation and proliferation period.”
After Monica leaves, I realize three things. Firstly, murder is a rather lucrative business. Secondly, from an amateur, I am going to become a professional. And thirdly, infidelity is not only reason why Monica wants to get rid of her husband.
Everything works as per my plan. I meticulously keep the vacuum microencapsulated ‘special’ can of beer firmly in its designated place in the fridge on Wednesday morning the moment Anjali leaves for work and before I do.
When I open the fridge the moment I return from work on Wednesday evening I notice that the particular beer-can is missing. My heart skips a beat, I feel a tremor of trepidation and soon I’m in a state of total panic. After a frantic search I find the empty beer can in the kitchen dustbin.
I pick up the can and check. Oh yes, no doubt about it – it is the same beer-can; and it is empty! I try to think, steady my confused mind. Who can it be?
Everything becomes clear all of a sudden and I find myself shaking in sheer terror. I rush to the bedroom, run around the house like a crazy animal. Anjali is not at home. I dial her mobile. An excruciating wait. She answers.
“Anjali where are you?”
“In the mall. Picking up some stuff for the evening.”
“So early?”
“I took half a day off. Came home for lunch, got things tidied up and ready for the evening and am just getting a few things from the market. I’ll be back soon.”
“Anjali. The beer! The beer!” I stutter.
“You want me to get more beer? I thought we had enough.”
“No. No. There is a beer-can missing in the fridge. I found it in the dustbin.”
“Oh, that. I drank it in the afternoon,” Anjali says.
“What? You drank that beer?” I shout.
“Yes. I drank it. I came home in the afternoon. It was hot. I felt thirsty. So I opened the fridge, picked up a can of beer and I drank it. It’s that simple.”
“You stupid fool! Why did you drink that can?” I scream into the phone.
“Stupid fool? How dare you? Ajay, have you lost your mind? I just can’t understand your behavior now-a-days!” Anjali says and disconnects.
It was extraordinary, how my mind became clear all of a sudden. There was no known antidote to the stuff I had synthesized. Clinically, there was nothing I could do. Logically, there was no point in doing something stupid in desperation. It was a question of my own survival. Having sunk to the depths of depravity, all I could do was helplessly wait and watch Anjali die. She was less than sixty kilos, much lighter than Kumar. By Saturday evening it would all be over!
The evening passes in a haze. My heart sinks as I watch Kumar enjoy beer after beer, but what’s the use – that beer-can, the one I specially prepared for him, is lying empty in the dustbin. There is a gleam in Monica’s eye. What excuse am I going to give her? She does not know what’s happened and I shudder to think what she may do when she realizes. At best she may forget everything; but knowing her vindictive streak, anything is possible! Inside I tremble with fear in unimaginable agony; outside I try to present a happy and cheerful façade and make pretence of enjoying the dinner.
Time crawls. I feel wretched and suffer in painful silence the longest and most agonizing hours of my life. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Nothing happens. Anjali seems normal, in fact, quite hale and hearty.
Sunday. Anjali is still going strong! She sits across the dining table devouring her favorite idli-chutney-sambar Sunday breakfast. Maybe her constitution, her liver, is super-strong; or maybe I’ve goofed up!
My cell-phone rings. It’s Monica. My heart skips a beat.
“Hello,” I say with trepidation.
“You’ve done it! Kumar is dead. I just got a call from Mussoorie,” Monica says excitedly.
“How?” I mumble perplexed in consternation.
“Exactly like you said. In the early hours of Sunday morning. He died in his sleep. They say maybe it was heart failure. Painless, instantaneous death.”
“I’ll come now?” I ask.
“No! No! Not now. We can’t take chances. I’m rushing to Mussoorie now. I’ll finish off everything; make sure the paperwork is done okay. And when I return, you can come and offer your condolences…” I hear Monica’s voice trail away.
I disconnect, put my mobile phone in my pocket and look at Anjali.
“Who was it?” she asks.
“Someone from the office,” I lie.
“Anything important?”
“No. A man died. That’s all,” I say nonchalantly.
“A man died? That’s all?” Anjali looks at me in bemused bewilderment.
And as I focus my eyes on her, my mind races, twisting and turning like a kaleidoscope, my brain-cells work at lightning speed, and all of a sudden I know what I’m going to do!
Copyright 2006 by Vikram Karve
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
(a fiction short story)
by
VIKRAM KARVE
It’s a lazy Sunday morning and I sit languidly in my balcony reminiscing the good old days of my wonderful past, melancholically mourning the gloomy and depressing present, and speculating with foreboding about what the ominous future may hold in store for me.
The doorbell rings. Cursing at being disturbed from my reverie, and wondering who it is on a Sunday morning, I open the door. It’s Monica, my wife Anjali’s friend and colleague, who lives across the street.
“Anjali is not at home,” I say.
“I know,” she says, “I’ve come to see you.”
“Me?” I stare at her baffled.
“Yes. You. I’ve come to see you. I want to talk to you alone.”
“Alone?” I am curious. We’ve never been alone before.
“Yes. Alone. Won’t you ask me to come in?”
“Of course. Please come in. Shall we sit in the balcony?”
“No. We’ll sit here, so no one will see us and we can talk in private.”
Monica looks chic and ravishing, in tight jeans and a close fitting pink T-shirt. I try not to stare at her.
The moment we sit down on the living room sofa, she says, “Suppose you found out that your wife was being unfaithful. Tell me, Ajay, what would you do?”
Taken aback, I say, “What?”
“Suppose you caught her having an affair.”
“What nonsense!” I say angrily, but inside me there germinates a small seed of doubt. Does Monica know something? Why is she saying all this? Trying to hide my fears, I put up a solid face and say, “Come on Mrs. Kumar. You know Anjali. How much she loves me.”
“Hey, stop calling me Mrs. Kumar. I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” Monica says, looks provocatively into my eyes, and asks, “Suppose, just suppose, you caught your wife having an affair, cheating on you, betraying your trust with infidelity…”
“I’ll kill her,” I say instinctively.
“How?”
“How? What do you mean ‘How’?”
“I mean ‘How’. How will you kill your wife?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I say getting up from the sofa, not wanting to continue this conversation.
“Let’s hypothesize. Would you shoot her? Strangle her? Stab her to death? Suffocate her with a pillow? Push her over the balcony or shove her off a cliff? Electrocute her? Drown her? Douse her with kerosene and set her on fire? An ‘accidental’ gas cylinder explosion?”
“What do you want from me? Why are you harassing me? Please go. Anjali will be here any moment,” I beseech her.
“No, she won’t. I know she’s gone to the health club and parlour. She’ll be back after twelve. We have enough time together, haven’t we?” Monica says mischievously and adds, “Okay, you tell me how you would kill you wife if you caught her having an affair and I’ll go away!”
“I’d probably use poison,” I say and start walking towards the entrance door.
Monica remains seated in silence for some time, and then she looks at me intently and says, her words clear and deliberate, “Poison! The way you finished Nisha, your first wife?”
I stop dead in my tracks. Pole-axed, I can sense a sharp, cold fear drilling into my vitals. I look at Monica, into her shining eyes. She knows! And she wants me to know, that she knows! And now I know that I have no choice. I walk back to my sofa, sit down and say to her, “So you want to kill your husband. Just because you think he is having an affair.”
“You killed Nisha, didn’t you?” she asks, looking directly into my eyes.
I feel very frightened, scared. How much does Monica know? Or is she just speculating, guessing? A shot in the dark. But seeing the venom in her eyes, I realize that I dare not take any chances, so I smile and say, “Well, Monica, you have got your manacles on me, haven’t you?”
“Listen, Ajay,” Monica says, her voice soft, as she speaks in measured tones, “I don’t want a scandal, that’s why I haven’t given him even the slightest hint that I suspect. But I can’t live a lie any longer pretending I am happy. The flimsy façade of our successful marriage, the veneer of pretence – it’s all going to blow-up sooner or later as he is becoming more and more indiscreet and careless.” She pauses for a moment and says, “He’s got to go. Quickly. Quietly. As ‘normal’ a death as you can arrange.”
“Why don’t you leave him? Ask him for a divorce.”
“It’s much better to be a widow than a divorcee, isn’t it?”
I think about what she says. She’s right. It is much better to have all the sympathy of a widow than the stigma of being a divorcee; inherit all her husband’s riches, money, property rather than the paltry alimony. Her husband is rich and successful, and her marriage a social triumph.
“Tell me, who is he having an affair with?” I ask out of sheer curiosity.
“It’s none of your business,” she says angrily. “Just do what I tell you and don’t delve too deeply.”
“I thought maybe…”
“What’s the use? He’ll get another one – bloody philanderer,” Monica says with contempt. “It’s he who has betrayed me and I want to get rid of him fast. You do this for me, Ajay, and my lips remain sealed about Nisha forever. I promise!”
“That’s all?”
“I’ll clear all your gambling debts, your loans, the mortgages – with the bookies, financers…”
Inside I tremble with indescribable terror; outside I try to be calm and say, “You know all about me, don’t you?”
“I’ve done my homework. Now you execute a foolproof plan. And after it’s all over there’ll be plenty more to come for you. So much money, you can’t even imagine!”
“Okay, let’s brainstorm. You tell me everything about your husband. All details. His food habits. His routine. His programme for the next few days. About both of you. Absolutely everything.”
“I’m thirsty,” Monica announces.
“Fresh Lime?”
“How about a beer?”
I get two cans of chilled beer from the fridge.
“Hey,” Monica exclaims holding up a beer can, “you know what? Kumar drinks the same brand of beer as you do! It’s his favorite beer.”
“That’s a good start,” I say and clink my beer can with hers, “Cheers! To our success! Now tell me everything.”
She tells me everything. I listen carefully and make notes. And by the time she finishes, in my mind’s eye I am already evaluating the pros and cons of various options how Kumar is going to die.
“How do you want him to die? Instantaneous, or prolonged illness?” I ask Monica.
“I want to finish it off as quickly as possible. Painless. Fast. When he is far away from here. Like maybe during his trekking trip to Mussoorie next week,” she pauses for a moment and says, “but make sure it’s a perfect foolproof job – not even an iota of doubt or needle of suspicion.”
My mind races, exploring and weighing all the options. An Exotoxin which leaves no trace, excretes itself from the organism within a few hours? I keep on thinking, my brain cells working at lightning speed, and all of a sudden I know what I’m going to do!
“We’ll give him something in his favorite beer,” I say.
“What? Tell me, please!” Monica says excitedly.
“Now you don’t delve too much!” I say haughtily. “Just do what I say. Lips sealed. No questions!”
“Okay.”
I look at the notes I had made when she was telling me about her husband and ask, “His weight is only 70?”
“That’s right. Seventy kilograms. Five feet ten. Thirty Eight years of age. Ideal, isn’t it? He’s a fitness freak.”
“And he leaves for Mussoorie on Thursday?”
“Yes. Early in the morning.”
“Okay,” I say, “I’ll have the beer can ready by Wednesday evening. Make sure you collect it by six before Anjali comes back from office and see that he drinks it…”
“No. No. You serve it to him. Let him have it here. In front of you. Right here.”
“He’s never come here to our place before!”
“He will. If you invite him.”
“Fine. I’ll tell Anjali to invite you all for dinner on Wednesday evening. She’s been wanting to call you over for a long time.”
“And?”
“I’ll make sure your Kumar drinks the special beer. He’ll be off to Mussoorie on Thursday, and you should have the ‘good news’ by Sunday morning.”
“He shouldn’t pop off here.”
“He won’t. I’ll calculate everything precisely – make sure there’s at least a 36 hour incubation and proliferation period.”
After Monica leaves, I realize three things. Firstly, murder is a rather lucrative business. Secondly, from an amateur, I am going to become a professional. And thirdly, infidelity is not only reason why Monica wants to get rid of her husband.
Everything works as per my plan. I meticulously keep the vacuum microencapsulated ‘special’ can of beer firmly in its designated place in the fridge on Wednesday morning the moment Anjali leaves for work and before I do.
When I open the fridge the moment I return from work on Wednesday evening I notice that the particular beer-can is missing. My heart skips a beat, I feel a tremor of trepidation and soon I’m in a state of total panic. After a frantic search I find the empty beer can in the kitchen dustbin.
I pick up the can and check. Oh yes, no doubt about it – it is the same beer-can; and it is empty! I try to think, steady my confused mind. Who can it be?
Everything becomes clear all of a sudden and I find myself shaking in sheer terror. I rush to the bedroom, run around the house like a crazy animal. Anjali is not at home. I dial her mobile. An excruciating wait. She answers.
“Anjali where are you?”
“In the mall. Picking up some stuff for the evening.”
“So early?”
“I took half a day off. Came home for lunch, got things tidied up and ready for the evening and am just getting a few things from the market. I’ll be back soon.”
“Anjali. The beer! The beer!” I stutter.
“You want me to get more beer? I thought we had enough.”
“No. No. There is a beer-can missing in the fridge. I found it in the dustbin.”
“Oh, that. I drank it in the afternoon,” Anjali says.
“What? You drank that beer?” I shout.
“Yes. I drank it. I came home in the afternoon. It was hot. I felt thirsty. So I opened the fridge, picked up a can of beer and I drank it. It’s that simple.”
“You stupid fool! Why did you drink that can?” I scream into the phone.
“Stupid fool? How dare you? Ajay, have you lost your mind? I just can’t understand your behavior now-a-days!” Anjali says and disconnects.
It was extraordinary, how my mind became clear all of a sudden. There was no known antidote to the stuff I had synthesized. Clinically, there was nothing I could do. Logically, there was no point in doing something stupid in desperation. It was a question of my own survival. Having sunk to the depths of depravity, all I could do was helplessly wait and watch Anjali die. She was less than sixty kilos, much lighter than Kumar. By Saturday evening it would all be over!
The evening passes in a haze. My heart sinks as I watch Kumar enjoy beer after beer, but what’s the use – that beer-can, the one I specially prepared for him, is lying empty in the dustbin. There is a gleam in Monica’s eye. What excuse am I going to give her? She does not know what’s happened and I shudder to think what she may do when she realizes. At best she may forget everything; but knowing her vindictive streak, anything is possible! Inside I tremble with fear in unimaginable agony; outside I try to present a happy and cheerful façade and make pretence of enjoying the dinner.
Time crawls. I feel wretched and suffer in painful silence the longest and most agonizing hours of my life. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Nothing happens. Anjali seems normal, in fact, quite hale and hearty.
Sunday. Anjali is still going strong! She sits across the dining table devouring her favorite idli-chutney-sambar Sunday breakfast. Maybe her constitution, her liver, is super-strong; or maybe I’ve goofed up!
My cell-phone rings. It’s Monica. My heart skips a beat.
“Hello,” I say with trepidation.
“You’ve done it! Kumar is dead. I just got a call from Mussoorie,” Monica says excitedly.
“How?” I mumble perplexed in consternation.
“Exactly like you said. In the early hours of Sunday morning. He died in his sleep. They say maybe it was heart failure. Painless, instantaneous death.”
“I’ll come now?” I ask.
“No! No! Not now. We can’t take chances. I’m rushing to Mussoorie now. I’ll finish off everything; make sure the paperwork is done okay. And when I return, you can come and offer your condolences…” I hear Monica’s voice trail away.
I disconnect, put my mobile phone in my pocket and look at Anjali.
“Who was it?” she asks.
“Someone from the office,” I lie.
“Anything important?”
“No. A man died. That’s all,” I say nonchalantly.
“A man died? That’s all?” Anjali looks at me in bemused bewilderment.
And as I focus my eyes on her, my mind races, twisting and turning like a kaleidoscope, my brain-cells work at lightning speed, and all of a sudden I know what I’m going to do!
Copyright 2006 by Vikram Karve
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Friday, September 29, 2006
A Soldier's Story - a must read for every MBA , Manager and Leader
MY FAVORITE MILITARY AUTOBIOGRAPHY by VIKRAM KARVE
(A Soldier’s Story by Omar N. Bradley)
I love reading autobiographies, as there is nothing more inspiring and authentic than learning about the life, times, thoughts and views of a great person in his own words.
It’s a lazy hot Sunday afternoon. I browse through my bookshelves and pick out A Soldier’s Story by General Omar Nelson Bradley, one of my favorite autobiographies, and certainly my all time favorite military autobiography. Come Dear Reader, sit with me for a while, and let’s leaf through and peruse this fascinating book.
General Bradley (1893-1981) known for his calm and resolute leadership and affectionately called the “Soldier’s General” commanded the largest American combat force in history and rose to be the first Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff.
This is a story, not of my life, but of a campaign…I have sought... to tell a story of how generals live and work at their chosen profession the author says at the beginning of his memoirs which focus on his participation in World War II.
Candidly written with remarkable humility in beautiful expressive language it is a wonderful memoir embellished with interesting episodes and lucid characterizations of many renowned military personalities.
In this book I have tried to achieve one purpose: To explain how war is waged on the field from the field command post… To tell a story of how and why we chose to do what we did, no one can ignore the personalities and characteristics of those individuals engaged in making decisions…..Where there are people, there is pride and ambition, prejudice and conflict. In generals, as in all other men, capabilities cannot always obscure weaknesses, nor can talents hide faults…General Bradley writes in his preface which concludes…I could not conscientiously expurgate this book to make it more palatable…if this story is to be told, it must be told honestly and candidly…
The author writes in a wonderfully readable storytelling style and starts his riveting narrative on September 2, 1943, driving to Messina along the north coast of Sicily when, suddenly, General Eisenhower summoned him to tell him that he had been selected to command the American Army in the biggest invasion of the war – the liberation of Europe from the Germans. He then goes back in time and starts his story with vignettes from his early formative days of soldiering. He describes how, from General Marshall, he learnt the rudiments of effective command which he himself applied throughout the war: “When an officer performed as I expected him to, I gave him a free hand. When he hesitated, I tried to help him. And when he failed, I relieved him” - isn’t this leadership lesson valid even on today’s IT driven world where delegation seems to be taking a back- seat and excessive monitoring, interference and intervention seem to be on the rise.
Rather than encourage yes-men, ego-massage, sycophancy and groupthink, General Marshal sought contrary opinions: “When you carry a paper in here, I want you to give me every reason you can think of why I should not approve it. If, in spite of your objections, my decision is to still go ahead, then I’ll know I’m right”.
When it was suggested to General Marshall that a corps commander who had an arthritic disability in the knee be sent home rather than be given command of a corps in the field in war, he opined: “I would rather have a man with arthritis in the knee than one with arthritis in the head. Keep him there”.
“For the first time in 32 years as a soldier, I was off to a war” he writes on his assignment overseas in February 1943 to act as Eisenhower’s “eyes and ears” among American troops on the Tunisian front in North Africa.
He vividly describes the chaos after the American defeat at Kasserine, the arrival of Patton on the scene who growled “I’m not going to have any goddam spies running around in my headquarters” and appointed Bradley as his deputy, a defining moment which was the first step of Bradley’s illustrious combat career.
This is easily the best book on Patton’s stellar role in World War II, complementing General Patton’s Memoirs War As I Knew It and Patton: Ordeal and Triumph by Ladislas Farago. Though his admiration for Patton is evident, General Bradley writes about his long association with Patton with fairness and honesty and reveals unique and remarkable facets of Patton’s leadership style and character.
Sample this – Precisely at 7 Patton boomed in to breakfast. His vigor was always infectious, his wit barbed, his conversation a mixture of obscenity and good humor. He was at once stimulating and overbearing. George was a magnificent soldier. (Can there be a better description?)
Bradley vividly describes how Patton transformed the slovenly and demoralized II Corps into a fighting fit formation. “The news of Patton’s coming fell like a bombshell on Djebel Kouif. With sirens shrieking Patton’s arrival, a procession of armored scout cars and half-tracks wheeled into the dingy square opposite the schoolhouse headquarters of II Corps…In the lead car Patton stood like a charioteer…scowling into the wind and his jaw strained against the web strap of a two-starred steel helmet.”
General Bradley writes superbly, as he describes how Patton stamped his personality upon his men and by his outstanding charismatic leadership rejuvenated the jaded, slovenly, worn-out, defeated and demoralized II Corps and transformed it into a vibrant, disciplined, fighting fit organization that never looked back and went on winning victory after victory in most difficult circumstances and against all odds.
There are bits of delightful humor in this book. Commenting on the ingenuity and improvisation abilities of Patton’s staff, the author writes: “…Indeed had Patton been named an Admiral in the Turkish Navy, his aides could probably dipped into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank…” Though, at times, the author appears to be in awe of and enamored by Patton’s larger than life charisma, he is candid, dispassionate and, at times, critical when he describes how he was bewildered by the contradictions in Patton’s character and concludes: “At times I felt that Patton, however successful he was as a corps commander, had not yet learned how to command himself.”
Their techniques of command varied with their contrasting personalities. While the soft-spoken unassuming Bradley preferred to lead by suggestion and example, the flamboyant Patton chose to drive his subordinates by bombast and threats, employing imperious mannerisms and profane expletives with startling originality; and both achieved spectacular results.
Many of us are at a loss for words when asked to qualitatively appraise our subordinates. See how easily General Bradley lucidly evaluates his division commanders, bringing out their salient qualities, in so few words with elegant simplicity and succinctness: “…To command a corps of four divisions, toughness alone is not enough. The corps commander must know his division commanders, he must thoroughly understand their problems, respect their judgment, and be tolerant of their limitations…among the division commanders in Tunisia, none excelled the unpredictable Terry Allen in the leadership of troops…but in looking out for his own division, Allen tended to belittle the role of others… Ryder had confirmed his reputation as that of a skilled tactician…his weakness, however, lay in the contentment with which he tolerated mediocrity…the profane and hot-tempered Harmon brought to the corps the rare combination of sound tactical judgment and boldness… none was better balanced nor more cooperative than Manton Eddy…though not timid, neither was he bold; Manton liked to count his steps carefully before he took them.” Aren’t the author’s understanding, observation and articulation remarkable?
Throughout the book, we find honest, frank and incisive appraisals of characters in this story – superiors, peers and subordinates – most of them renowned and famous personalities. He writes with candor about the problems of command during the planning of the invasion of Europe.
From then on the story gathers speed and moves so captivatingly that one is spellbound as one reads the author fluently narrate the events of the campaign with remarkable preciseness and detail, one realizes what an engaging and compelling book this is – it’s simply unputdownable!
All important events, turning points, and personalities are vividly described with the aid of maps, charts, pictures and appendices; from D Day (the Normandy Invasion) to the surrender of the German forces. Towards the end of his memoirs General Bradley reflects “Only five years before…as a lieutenant colonel in civilian clothes, I had ridden a bus down Connecticut Avenue to my desk in old Munitions Building… I opened the mapboard and smoothed out the tabs of the 43 US divisions now under my command…stretched across a 640-mile front of the 12th Army Group...I wrote in the new date: D plus 335…outside the sun was climbing in the sky. The war in Europe had ended.”
While this autobiography is a “must read” for military men and students of military history, I am sure it will benefit management students and professionals for it is an incisive treatise on Soft Skills encompassing aspects of Leadership, Communications, and most importantly, the Art of Human Relations Management in the extremely complex and highly stressful scenario of War where achievement of success (victory) is inescapably paramount. It is a primer, a treasury of distilled wisdom, on all aspects of management, especially human resource management. One can learn many motivational and management lessons from this book.
There is nothing to surpass the experience of learning history first hand from a man who lived and created it rather than a historian who merely records it. The Art of Leadership is better learnt from studying Leaders, their lives, their writings, rather than reading management textbooks pontificating on the subject and giving how-to-do laundry lists.
The Art and Science of Management owe its genesis and evolution to the military. Modern Management theories, concepts, techniques and practices emerged from the experiences and lessons learnt during World War II [particularly in The United States of America].
It’s ironic isn’t it? It was the military that gave modern management principles to the civilian corporate world, and today we see military men running to civilian management institutes to “learn’ management and get the coveted MBA which the sine qua non and all important passport for entry into the corporate world.
I love reading stories, all kinds of stories, fiction, fantasy, parables, fables, slice of life. I like Life Stories, biographies, particularly autobiographies, as there is nothing more credible, convincing and stimulating than learning about the life, times and thoughts of a great person from his own writings. It’s called verisimilitude, I think.
A Soldier’s Story is a magnificent book. A masterpiece, a classic! It’s enjoyable, engrossing and illuminating. Read it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
(A Soldier’s Story by Omar N. Bradley)
I love reading autobiographies, as there is nothing more inspiring and authentic than learning about the life, times, thoughts and views of a great person in his own words.
It’s a lazy hot Sunday afternoon. I browse through my bookshelves and pick out A Soldier’s Story by General Omar Nelson Bradley, one of my favorite autobiographies, and certainly my all time favorite military autobiography. Come Dear Reader, sit with me for a while, and let’s leaf through and peruse this fascinating book.
General Bradley (1893-1981) known for his calm and resolute leadership and affectionately called the “Soldier’s General” commanded the largest American combat force in history and rose to be the first Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff.
This is a story, not of my life, but of a campaign…I have sought... to tell a story of how generals live and work at their chosen profession the author says at the beginning of his memoirs which focus on his participation in World War II.
Candidly written with remarkable humility in beautiful expressive language it is a wonderful memoir embellished with interesting episodes and lucid characterizations of many renowned military personalities.
In this book I have tried to achieve one purpose: To explain how war is waged on the field from the field command post… To tell a story of how and why we chose to do what we did, no one can ignore the personalities and characteristics of those individuals engaged in making decisions…..Where there are people, there is pride and ambition, prejudice and conflict. In generals, as in all other men, capabilities cannot always obscure weaknesses, nor can talents hide faults…General Bradley writes in his preface which concludes…I could not conscientiously expurgate this book to make it more palatable…if this story is to be told, it must be told honestly and candidly…
The author writes in a wonderfully readable storytelling style and starts his riveting narrative on September 2, 1943, driving to Messina along the north coast of Sicily when, suddenly, General Eisenhower summoned him to tell him that he had been selected to command the American Army in the biggest invasion of the war – the liberation of Europe from the Germans. He then goes back in time and starts his story with vignettes from his early formative days of soldiering. He describes how, from General Marshall, he learnt the rudiments of effective command which he himself applied throughout the war: “When an officer performed as I expected him to, I gave him a free hand. When he hesitated, I tried to help him. And when he failed, I relieved him” - isn’t this leadership lesson valid even on today’s IT driven world where delegation seems to be taking a back- seat and excessive monitoring, interference and intervention seem to be on the rise.
Rather than encourage yes-men, ego-massage, sycophancy and groupthink, General Marshal sought contrary opinions: “When you carry a paper in here, I want you to give me every reason you can think of why I should not approve it. If, in spite of your objections, my decision is to still go ahead, then I’ll know I’m right”.
When it was suggested to General Marshall that a corps commander who had an arthritic disability in the knee be sent home rather than be given command of a corps in the field in war, he opined: “I would rather have a man with arthritis in the knee than one with arthritis in the head. Keep him there”.
“For the first time in 32 years as a soldier, I was off to a war” he writes on his assignment overseas in February 1943 to act as Eisenhower’s “eyes and ears” among American troops on the Tunisian front in North Africa.
He vividly describes the chaos after the American defeat at Kasserine, the arrival of Patton on the scene who growled “I’m not going to have any goddam spies running around in my headquarters” and appointed Bradley as his deputy, a defining moment which was the first step of Bradley’s illustrious combat career.
This is easily the best book on Patton’s stellar role in World War II, complementing General Patton’s Memoirs War As I Knew It and Patton: Ordeal and Triumph by Ladislas Farago. Though his admiration for Patton is evident, General Bradley writes about his long association with Patton with fairness and honesty and reveals unique and remarkable facets of Patton’s leadership style and character.
Sample this – Precisely at 7 Patton boomed in to breakfast. His vigor was always infectious, his wit barbed, his conversation a mixture of obscenity and good humor. He was at once stimulating and overbearing. George was a magnificent soldier. (Can there be a better description?)
Bradley vividly describes how Patton transformed the slovenly and demoralized II Corps into a fighting fit formation. “The news of Patton’s coming fell like a bombshell on Djebel Kouif. With sirens shrieking Patton’s arrival, a procession of armored scout cars and half-tracks wheeled into the dingy square opposite the schoolhouse headquarters of II Corps…In the lead car Patton stood like a charioteer…scowling into the wind and his jaw strained against the web strap of a two-starred steel helmet.”
General Bradley writes superbly, as he describes how Patton stamped his personality upon his men and by his outstanding charismatic leadership rejuvenated the jaded, slovenly, worn-out, defeated and demoralized II Corps and transformed it into a vibrant, disciplined, fighting fit organization that never looked back and went on winning victory after victory in most difficult circumstances and against all odds.
There are bits of delightful humor in this book. Commenting on the ingenuity and improvisation abilities of Patton’s staff, the author writes: “…Indeed had Patton been named an Admiral in the Turkish Navy, his aides could probably dipped into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank…” Though, at times, the author appears to be in awe of and enamored by Patton’s larger than life charisma, he is candid, dispassionate and, at times, critical when he describes how he was bewildered by the contradictions in Patton’s character and concludes: “At times I felt that Patton, however successful he was as a corps commander, had not yet learned how to command himself.”
Their techniques of command varied with their contrasting personalities. While the soft-spoken unassuming Bradley preferred to lead by suggestion and example, the flamboyant Patton chose to drive his subordinates by bombast and threats, employing imperious mannerisms and profane expletives with startling originality; and both achieved spectacular results.
Many of us are at a loss for words when asked to qualitatively appraise our subordinates. See how easily General Bradley lucidly evaluates his division commanders, bringing out their salient qualities, in so few words with elegant simplicity and succinctness: “…To command a corps of four divisions, toughness alone is not enough. The corps commander must know his division commanders, he must thoroughly understand their problems, respect their judgment, and be tolerant of their limitations…among the division commanders in Tunisia, none excelled the unpredictable Terry Allen in the leadership of troops…but in looking out for his own division, Allen tended to belittle the role of others… Ryder had confirmed his reputation as that of a skilled tactician…his weakness, however, lay in the contentment with which he tolerated mediocrity…the profane and hot-tempered Harmon brought to the corps the rare combination of sound tactical judgment and boldness… none was better balanced nor more cooperative than Manton Eddy…though not timid, neither was he bold; Manton liked to count his steps carefully before he took them.” Aren’t the author’s understanding, observation and articulation remarkable?
Throughout the book, we find honest, frank and incisive appraisals of characters in this story – superiors, peers and subordinates – most of them renowned and famous personalities. He writes with candor about the problems of command during the planning of the invasion of Europe.
From then on the story gathers speed and moves so captivatingly that one is spellbound as one reads the author fluently narrate the events of the campaign with remarkable preciseness and detail, one realizes what an engaging and compelling book this is – it’s simply unputdownable!
All important events, turning points, and personalities are vividly described with the aid of maps, charts, pictures and appendices; from D Day (the Normandy Invasion) to the surrender of the German forces. Towards the end of his memoirs General Bradley reflects “Only five years before…as a lieutenant colonel in civilian clothes, I had ridden a bus down Connecticut Avenue to my desk in old Munitions Building… I opened the mapboard and smoothed out the tabs of the 43 US divisions now under my command…stretched across a 640-mile front of the 12th Army Group...I wrote in the new date: D plus 335…outside the sun was climbing in the sky. The war in Europe had ended.”
While this autobiography is a “must read” for military men and students of military history, I am sure it will benefit management students and professionals for it is an incisive treatise on Soft Skills encompassing aspects of Leadership, Communications, and most importantly, the Art of Human Relations Management in the extremely complex and highly stressful scenario of War where achievement of success (victory) is inescapably paramount. It is a primer, a treasury of distilled wisdom, on all aspects of management, especially human resource management. One can learn many motivational and management lessons from this book.
There is nothing to surpass the experience of learning history first hand from a man who lived and created it rather than a historian who merely records it. The Art of Leadership is better learnt from studying Leaders, their lives, their writings, rather than reading management textbooks pontificating on the subject and giving how-to-do laundry lists.
The Art and Science of Management owe its genesis and evolution to the military. Modern Management theories, concepts, techniques and practices emerged from the experiences and lessons learnt during World War II [particularly in The United States of America].
It’s ironic isn’t it? It was the military that gave modern management principles to the civilian corporate world, and today we see military men running to civilian management institutes to “learn’ management and get the coveted MBA which the sine qua non and all important passport for entry into the corporate world.
I love reading stories, all kinds of stories, fiction, fantasy, parables, fables, slice of life. I like Life Stories, biographies, particularly autobiographies, as there is nothing more credible, convincing and stimulating than learning about the life, times and thoughts of a great person from his own writings. It’s called verisimilitude, I think.
A Soldier’s Story is a magnificent book. A masterpiece, a classic! It’s enjoyable, engrossing and illuminating. Read it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
Thursday, September 28, 2006
A Soldier's Story - My Favorite Military Autobiography
MY FAVORITE MILITARY AUTOBIOGRAPHY by VIKRAM KARVE
(A Soldier’s Story by Omar N. Bradley)
I love reading autobiographies, as there is nothing more inspiring and authentic than learning about the life, times, thoughts and views of a great person in his own words.
It’s a lazy hot Sunday afternoon. I browse through my bookshelves and pick out A Soldier’s Story by General Omar Nelson Bradley, one of my favorite autobiographies, and certainly my all time favorite military autobiography. Come Dear Reader, sit with me for a while, and let’s leaf through and peruse this fascinating book.
General Bradley (1893-1981) known for his calm and resolute leadership and affectionately called the “Soldier’s General” commanded the largest American combat force in history and rose to be the first Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff.
This is a story, not of my life, but of a campaign…I have sought... to tell a story of how generals live and work at their chosen profession the author says at the beginning of his memoirs which focus on his participation in World War II.
Candidly written with remarkable humility in beautiful expressive language it is a wonderful memoir embellished with interesting episodes and lucid characterizations of many renowned military personalities.
In this book I have tried to achieve one purpose: To explain how war is waged on the field from the field command post… To tell a story of how and why we chose to do what we did, no one can ignore the personalities and characteristics of those individuals engaged in making decisions…..Where there are people, there is pride and ambition, prejudice and conflict. In generals, as in all other men, capabilities cannot always obscure weaknesses, nor can talents hide faults…General Bradley writes in his preface which concludes…I could not conscientiously expurgate this book to make it more palatable…if this story is to be told, it must be told honestly and candidly…
The author writes in a wonderfully readable storytelling style and starts his riveting narrative on September 2, 1943, driving to Messina along the north coast of Sicily when, suddenly, General Eisenhower summoned him to tell him that he had been selected to command the American Army in the biggest invasion of the war – the liberation of Europe from the Germans. He then goes back in time and starts his story with vignettes from his early formative days of soldiering. He describes how, from General Marshall, he learnt the rudiments of effective command which he himself applied throughout the war: “When an officer performed as I expected him to, I gave him a free hand. When he hesitated, I tried to help him. And when he failed, I relieved him” - isn’t this leadership lesson valid even on today’s IT driven world where delegation seems to be taking a back- seat and excessive monitoring, interference and intervention seem to be on the rise.
Rather than encourage yes-men, ego-massage, sycophancy and groupthink, General Marshal sought contrary opinions: “When you carry a paper in here, I want you to give me every reason you can think of why I should not approve it. If, in spite of your objections, my decision is to still go ahead, then I’ll know I’m right”.
When it was suggested to General Marshall that a corps commander who had an arthritic disability in the knee be sent home rather than be given command of a corps in the field in war, he opined: “I would rather have a man with arthritis in the knee than one with arthritis in the head. Keep him there”.
“For the first time in 32 years as a soldier, I was off to a war” he writes on his assignment overseas in February 1943 to act as Eisenhower’s “eyes and ears” among American troops on the Tunisian front in North Africa.
He vividly describes the chaos after the American defeat at Kasserine, the arrival of Patton on the scene who growled “I’m not going to have any goddam spies running around in my headquarters” and appointed Bradley as his deputy, a defining moment which was the first step of Bradley’s illustrious combat career.
This is easily the best book on Patton’s stellar role in World War II, complementing General Patton’s Memoirs War As I Knew It and Patton: Ordeal and Triumph by Ladislas Farago. Though his admiration for Patton is evident, General Bradley writes about his long association with Patton with fairness and honesty and reveals unique and remarkable facets of Patton’s leadership style and character.
Sample this – Precisely at 7 Patton boomed in to breakfast. His vigor was always infectious, his wit barbed, his conversation a mixture of obscenity and good humor. He was at once stimulating and overbearing. George was a magnificent soldier. (Can there be a better description?)
Bradley vividly describes how Patton transformed the slovenly and demoralized II Corps into a fighting fit formation. “The news of Patton’s coming fell like a bombshell on Djebel Kouif. With sirens shrieking Patton’s arrival, a procession of armored scout cars and half-tracks wheeled into the dingy square opposite the schoolhouse headquarters of II Corps…In the lead car Patton stood like a charioteer…scowling into the wind and his jaw strained against the web strap of a two-starred steel helmet.”
General Bradley writes superbly, as he describes how Patton stamped his personality upon his men and by his outstanding charismatic leadership rejuvenated the jaded, slovenly, worn-out, defeated and demoralized II Corps and transformed it into a vibrant, disciplined, fighting fit organization that never looked back and went on winning victory after victory in most difficult circumstances and against all odds.
There are bits of delightful humor in this book. Commenting on the ingenuity and improvisation abilities of Patton’s staff, the author writes: “…Indeed had Patton been named an Admiral in the Turkish Navy, his aides could probably dipped into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank…” Though, at times, the author appears to be in awe of and enamored by Patton’s larger than life charisma, he is candid, dispassionate and, at times, critical when he describes how he was bewildered by the contradictions in Patton’s character and concludes: “At times I felt that Patton, however successful he was as a corps commander, had not yet learned how to command himself.”
Their techniques of command varied with their contrasting personalities. While the soft-spoken unassuming Bradley preferred to lead by suggestion and example, the flamboyant Patton chose to drive his subordinates by bombast and threats, employing imperious mannerisms and profane expletives with startling originality; and both achieved spectacular results.
Many of us are at a loss for words when asked to qualitatively appraise our subordinates. See how easily General Bradley lucidly evaluates his division commanders, bringing out their salient qualities, in so few words with elegant simplicity and succinctness: “…To command a corps of four divisions, toughness alone is not enough. The corps commander must know his division commanders, he must thoroughly understand their problems, respect their judgment, and be tolerant of their limitations…among the division commanders in Tunisia, none excelled the unpredictable Terry Allen in the leadership of troops…but in looking out for his own division, Allen tended to belittle the role of others… Ryder had confirmed his reputation as that of a skilled tactician…his weakness, however, lay in the contentment with which he tolerated mediocrity…the profane and hot-tempered Harmon brought to the corps the rare combination of sound tactical judgment and boldness… none was better balanced nor more cooperative than Manton Eddy…though not timid, neither was he bold; Manton liked to count his steps carefully before he took them.” Aren’t the author’s understanding, observation and articulation remarkable?
Throughout the book, we find honest, frank and incisive appraisals of characters in this story – superiors, peers and subordinates – most of them renowned and famous personalities. He writes with candor about the problems of command during the planning of the invasion of Europe.
From then on the story gathers speed and moves so captivatingly that one is spellbound as one reads the author fluently narrate the events of the campaign with remarkable preciseness and detail, one realizes what an engaging and compelling book this is – it’s simply unputdownable!
All important events, turning points, and personalities are vividly described with the aid of maps, charts, pictures and appendices; from D Day (the Normandy Invasion) to the surrender of the German forces. Towards the end of his memoirs General Bradley reflects “Only five years before…as a lieutenant colonel in civilian clothes, I had ridden a bus down Connecticut Avenue to my desk in old Munitions Building… I opened the mapboard and smoothed out the tabs of the 43 US divisions now under my command…stretched across a 640-mile front of the 12th Army Group...I wrote in the new date: D plus 335…outside the sun was climbing in the sky. The war in Europe had ended.”
While this autobiography is a “must read” for military men and students of military history, I am sure it will benefit management students and professionals for it is an incisive treatise on Soft Skills encompassing aspects of Leadership, Communications, and most importantly, the Art of Human Relations Management in the extremely complex and highly stressful scenario of War where achievement of success (victory) is inescapably paramount. It is a primer, a treasury of distilled wisdom, on all aspects of management, especially human resource management. One can learn many motivational and management lessons from this book.
There is nothing to surpass the experience of learning history first hand from a man who lived and created it rather than a historian who merely records it. The Art of Leadership is better learnt from studying Leaders, their lives, their writings, rather than reading management textbooks pontificating on the subject and giving how-to-do laundry lists.
The Art and Science of Management owe its genesis and evolution to the military. Modern Management theories, concepts, techniques and practices emerged from the experiences and lessons learnt during World War II [particularly in The United States of America].
It’s ironic isn’t it? It was the military that gave modern management principles to the civilian corporate world, and today we see military men running to civilian management institutes to “learn’ management and get the coveted MBA which the sine qua non and all important passport for entry into the corporate world.
I love reading stories, all kinds of stories, fiction, fantasy, parables, fables, slice of life. I like Life Stories, biographies, particularly autobiographies, as there is nothing more credible, convincing and stimulating than learning about the life, times and thoughts of a great person from his own writings. It’s called verisimilitude, I think.
A Soldier’s Story is a magnificent book. A masterpiece, a classic! It’s enjoyable, engrossing and illuminating. Read it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
(A Soldier’s Story by Omar N. Bradley)
I love reading autobiographies, as there is nothing more inspiring and authentic than learning about the life, times, thoughts and views of a great person in his own words.
It’s a lazy hot Sunday afternoon. I browse through my bookshelves and pick out A Soldier’s Story by General Omar Nelson Bradley, one of my favorite autobiographies, and certainly my all time favorite military autobiography. Come Dear Reader, sit with me for a while, and let’s leaf through and peruse this fascinating book.
General Bradley (1893-1981) known for his calm and resolute leadership and affectionately called the “Soldier’s General” commanded the largest American combat force in history and rose to be the first Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff.
This is a story, not of my life, but of a campaign…I have sought... to tell a story of how generals live and work at their chosen profession the author says at the beginning of his memoirs which focus on his participation in World War II.
Candidly written with remarkable humility in beautiful expressive language it is a wonderful memoir embellished with interesting episodes and lucid characterizations of many renowned military personalities.
In this book I have tried to achieve one purpose: To explain how war is waged on the field from the field command post… To tell a story of how and why we chose to do what we did, no one can ignore the personalities and characteristics of those individuals engaged in making decisions…..Where there are people, there is pride and ambition, prejudice and conflict. In generals, as in all other men, capabilities cannot always obscure weaknesses, nor can talents hide faults…General Bradley writes in his preface which concludes…I could not conscientiously expurgate this book to make it more palatable…if this story is to be told, it must be told honestly and candidly…
The author writes in a wonderfully readable storytelling style and starts his riveting narrative on September 2, 1943, driving to Messina along the north coast of Sicily when, suddenly, General Eisenhower summoned him to tell him that he had been selected to command the American Army in the biggest invasion of the war – the liberation of Europe from the Germans. He then goes back in time and starts his story with vignettes from his early formative days of soldiering. He describes how, from General Marshall, he learnt the rudiments of effective command which he himself applied throughout the war: “When an officer performed as I expected him to, I gave him a free hand. When he hesitated, I tried to help him. And when he failed, I relieved him” - isn’t this leadership lesson valid even on today’s IT driven world where delegation seems to be taking a back- seat and excessive monitoring, interference and intervention seem to be on the rise.
Rather than encourage yes-men, ego-massage, sycophancy and groupthink, General Marshal sought contrary opinions: “When you carry a paper in here, I want you to give me every reason you can think of why I should not approve it. If, in spite of your objections, my decision is to still go ahead, then I’ll know I’m right”.
When it was suggested to General Marshall that a corps commander who had an arthritic disability in the knee be sent home rather than be given command of a corps in the field in war, he opined: “I would rather have a man with arthritis in the knee than one with arthritis in the head. Keep him there”.
“For the first time in 32 years as a soldier, I was off to a war” he writes on his assignment overseas in February 1943 to act as Eisenhower’s “eyes and ears” among American troops on the Tunisian front in North Africa.
He vividly describes the chaos after the American defeat at Kasserine, the arrival of Patton on the scene who growled “I’m not going to have any goddam spies running around in my headquarters” and appointed Bradley as his deputy, a defining moment which was the first step of Bradley’s illustrious combat career.
This is easily the best book on Patton’s stellar role in World War II, complementing General Patton’s Memoirs War As I Knew It and Patton: Ordeal and Triumph by Ladislas Farago. Though his admiration for Patton is evident, General Bradley writes about his long association with Patton with fairness and honesty and reveals unique and remarkable facets of Patton’s leadership style and character.
Sample this – Precisely at 7 Patton boomed in to breakfast. His vigor was always infectious, his wit barbed, his conversation a mixture of obscenity and good humor. He was at once stimulating and overbearing. George was a magnificent soldier. (Can there be a better description?)
Bradley vividly describes how Patton transformed the slovenly and demoralized II Corps into a fighting fit formation. “The news of Patton’s coming fell like a bombshell on Djebel Kouif. With sirens shrieking Patton’s arrival, a procession of armored scout cars and half-tracks wheeled into the dingy square opposite the schoolhouse headquarters of II Corps…In the lead car Patton stood like a charioteer…scowling into the wind and his jaw strained against the web strap of a two-starred steel helmet.”
General Bradley writes superbly, as he describes how Patton stamped his personality upon his men and by his outstanding charismatic leadership rejuvenated the jaded, slovenly, worn-out, defeated and demoralized II Corps and transformed it into a vibrant, disciplined, fighting fit organization that never looked back and went on winning victory after victory in most difficult circumstances and against all odds.
There are bits of delightful humor in this book. Commenting on the ingenuity and improvisation abilities of Patton’s staff, the author writes: “…Indeed had Patton been named an Admiral in the Turkish Navy, his aides could probably dipped into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank…” Though, at times, the author appears to be in awe of and enamored by Patton’s larger than life charisma, he is candid, dispassionate and, at times, critical when he describes how he was bewildered by the contradictions in Patton’s character and concludes: “At times I felt that Patton, however successful he was as a corps commander, had not yet learned how to command himself.”
Their techniques of command varied with their contrasting personalities. While the soft-spoken unassuming Bradley preferred to lead by suggestion and example, the flamboyant Patton chose to drive his subordinates by bombast and threats, employing imperious mannerisms and profane expletives with startling originality; and both achieved spectacular results.
Many of us are at a loss for words when asked to qualitatively appraise our subordinates. See how easily General Bradley lucidly evaluates his division commanders, bringing out their salient qualities, in so few words with elegant simplicity and succinctness: “…To command a corps of four divisions, toughness alone is not enough. The corps commander must know his division commanders, he must thoroughly understand their problems, respect their judgment, and be tolerant of their limitations…among the division commanders in Tunisia, none excelled the unpredictable Terry Allen in the leadership of troops…but in looking out for his own division, Allen tended to belittle the role of others… Ryder had confirmed his reputation as that of a skilled tactician…his weakness, however, lay in the contentment with which he tolerated mediocrity…the profane and hot-tempered Harmon brought to the corps the rare combination of sound tactical judgment and boldness… none was better balanced nor more cooperative than Manton Eddy…though not timid, neither was he bold; Manton liked to count his steps carefully before he took them.” Aren’t the author’s understanding, observation and articulation remarkable?
Throughout the book, we find honest, frank and incisive appraisals of characters in this story – superiors, peers and subordinates – most of them renowned and famous personalities. He writes with candor about the problems of command during the planning of the invasion of Europe.
From then on the story gathers speed and moves so captivatingly that one is spellbound as one reads the author fluently narrate the events of the campaign with remarkable preciseness and detail, one realizes what an engaging and compelling book this is – it’s simply unputdownable!
All important events, turning points, and personalities are vividly described with the aid of maps, charts, pictures and appendices; from D Day (the Normandy Invasion) to the surrender of the German forces. Towards the end of his memoirs General Bradley reflects “Only five years before…as a lieutenant colonel in civilian clothes, I had ridden a bus down Connecticut Avenue to my desk in old Munitions Building… I opened the mapboard and smoothed out the tabs of the 43 US divisions now under my command…stretched across a 640-mile front of the 12th Army Group...I wrote in the new date: D plus 335…outside the sun was climbing in the sky. The war in Europe had ended.”
While this autobiography is a “must read” for military men and students of military history, I am sure it will benefit management students and professionals for it is an incisive treatise on Soft Skills encompassing aspects of Leadership, Communications, and most importantly, the Art of Human Relations Management in the extremely complex and highly stressful scenario of War where achievement of success (victory) is inescapably paramount. It is a primer, a treasury of distilled wisdom, on all aspects of management, especially human resource management. One can learn many motivational and management lessons from this book.
There is nothing to surpass the experience of learning history first hand from a man who lived and created it rather than a historian who merely records it. The Art of Leadership is better learnt from studying Leaders, their lives, their writings, rather than reading management textbooks pontificating on the subject and giving how-to-do laundry lists.
The Art and Science of Management owe its genesis and evolution to the military. Modern Management theories, concepts, techniques and practices emerged from the experiences and lessons learnt during World War II [particularly in The United States of America].
It’s ironic isn’t it? It was the military that gave modern management principles to the civilian corporate world, and today we see military men running to civilian management institutes to “learn’ management and get the coveted MBA which the sine qua non and all important passport for entry into the corporate world.
I love reading stories, all kinds of stories, fiction, fantasy, parables, fables, slice of life. I like Life Stories, biographies, particularly autobiographies, as there is nothing more credible, convincing and stimulating than learning about the life, times and thoughts of a great person from his own writings. It’s called verisimilitude, I think.
A Soldier’s Story is a magnificent book. A masterpiece, a classic! It’s enjoyable, engrossing and illuminating. Read it.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
http://karve.sulekha.com
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com
Monday, September 25, 2006
Stories and psychotherapy
BIBLIOTHERAPY
(A fascinating book on my bookshelves – Oriental Stories as tools in Psychotherapy)
By
VIKRAM KARVE
An Eastern merchant owned a parrot. One day the bird knocked over an oil flask. The merchant became very angry and hit the parrot on the back of the head.
From that time on, the parrot, who had previously appeared to be very intelligent, could not talk any more. He lost the feathers on his head and soon became bald.
One day, as the parrot was sitting on the bookshelf in his master’s place of business, a baldheaded customer entered the shop.
The sight of the man made the parrot very excited. Flapping his wings, he jumped around, squawked, and, to everyone’s surprise, suddenly regained his speech and asked the baldheaded man, “Did you, too, knock down an oil flask and get hit on the back of the head so that you don’t have any hair any more?”
This is a story called The Merchant and the Parrot from a delightfully interesting book in my bookcase called “Oriental Stories as Tools in Psychotherapy” by Nossrat Peseschkian. I bought this book on 12 October 1998 from the International Book Service at Deccan Gymkhana in Pune and love to delve into it from time to time.
The book features a fascinating compilation meaningful oriental Teaching Stories – the psychotherapeutic function of stories is the theme of this book. The author, a physician and psychotherapist, emphasizes the fact that long before the development of modern psychotherapy, stories served as instruments of folk psychotherapy and highlights how stories are effective transmitters of messages. He avers that stories have a lot in common with medication and, like medicines, used at the right time in the right form stories can lead to changes in attitude and behavior, but, given in the wrong dosage, told in an insincere and moralizing way, the application can be dangerous.
You can study, scrutinize and critically analyze this book if you are a serious reader and want to go deep into the subject; or like me, you can enjoy and be illuminated by the lovely teaching stories in the book. Teaching stories have a special quality – if read in a certain kind of way they enlighten you. There are three ways to read teaching stories:-
• Read the story once. Then move on to another. This manner of reading will give you entertainment – maybe produce a laugh; like jokes.
• Read the story twice. Reflect on it. Apply it to your life. You will feel enriched.
• Read the story again, after you have reflected on it. Carry the story around in your mind all day and allow its fragrance, its melody to haunt you. Create a silence within you and let the story reveal to you its inner depth and meaning. Let it speak to your heart, not to your brain. This will give you a feel for the mystical and you will develop the art of tasting and feeling the inner meaning of such stories to the point that they transform you.
A good teaching story has several levels of meaning and interpretation and offers us opportunities to think in new ways. At first you may just have a good laugh, but as you think and reflect, the significance becomes more and more profound. Each story veils its knowledge and as you ruminate, the walls of its outer meanings crumble away and the beauty of the previously invisible inner wisdom is revealed, and you begin to identify yourself in the story, and to acknowledge that you too could be as foolish or as lacking in discernment as the characters in these classic tales.
Here is a story called “Fifty Years of Politeness”:
An elderly couple celebrated their golden anniversary…while eating breakfast together, the woman thought, “for fifty years I’ve always been considerate of my husband and have always given him the crusty top of the bread roll. Today I want to finally enjoy this delicacy for myself.”
She spread the top part with butter and gave the other part to her husband.
Contrary to her expectations, he was very pleased, kissed her hand, and said, “My darling, you’ve just given me the greatest joy of the day. For over fifty years I haven’t eaten the bottom part of the bread roll, which is the part I like best. I always thought you should have it because you like it so much.”
I love and cherish this book which has enhanced me in all aspects of my life and browse through the stories quite often; and as I reflect and interpret I feel refreshed, enlightened and wiser. Whether it’s your work, marriage, relationships, children, or any situation or facet of your life, there’s sure to be an apt story in here for you which will put you on the path of self-dicovery.
I’ll conclude with a quote from this exquisite and unique book: Occasionally we can’t avoid science, math and erudite discussions which aid development of human consciousness. But occasionally we also need poetry, chess, and stories, so our spirit can find joy and refreshment.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
(A fascinating book on my bookshelves – Oriental Stories as tools in Psychotherapy)
By
VIKRAM KARVE
An Eastern merchant owned a parrot. One day the bird knocked over an oil flask. The merchant became very angry and hit the parrot on the back of the head.
From that time on, the parrot, who had previously appeared to be very intelligent, could not talk any more. He lost the feathers on his head and soon became bald.
One day, as the parrot was sitting on the bookshelf in his master’s place of business, a baldheaded customer entered the shop.
The sight of the man made the parrot very excited. Flapping his wings, he jumped around, squawked, and, to everyone’s surprise, suddenly regained his speech and asked the baldheaded man, “Did you, too, knock down an oil flask and get hit on the back of the head so that you don’t have any hair any more?”
This is a story called The Merchant and the Parrot from a delightfully interesting book in my bookcase called “Oriental Stories as Tools in Psychotherapy” by Nossrat Peseschkian. I bought this book on 12 October 1998 from the International Book Service at Deccan Gymkhana in Pune and love to delve into it from time to time.
The book features a fascinating compilation meaningful oriental Teaching Stories – the psychotherapeutic function of stories is the theme of this book. The author, a physician and psychotherapist, emphasizes the fact that long before the development of modern psychotherapy, stories served as instruments of folk psychotherapy and highlights how stories are effective transmitters of messages. He avers that stories have a lot in common with medication and, like medicines, used at the right time in the right form stories can lead to changes in attitude and behavior, but, given in the wrong dosage, told in an insincere and moralizing way, the application can be dangerous.
You can study, scrutinize and critically analyze this book if you are a serious reader and want to go deep into the subject; or like me, you can enjoy and be illuminated by the lovely teaching stories in the book. Teaching stories have a special quality – if read in a certain kind of way they enlighten you. There are three ways to read teaching stories:-
• Read the story once. Then move on to another. This manner of reading will give you entertainment – maybe produce a laugh; like jokes.
• Read the story twice. Reflect on it. Apply it to your life. You will feel enriched.
• Read the story again, after you have reflected on it. Carry the story around in your mind all day and allow its fragrance, its melody to haunt you. Create a silence within you and let the story reveal to you its inner depth and meaning. Let it speak to your heart, not to your brain. This will give you a feel for the mystical and you will develop the art of tasting and feeling the inner meaning of such stories to the point that they transform you.
A good teaching story has several levels of meaning and interpretation and offers us opportunities to think in new ways. At first you may just have a good laugh, but as you think and reflect, the significance becomes more and more profound. Each story veils its knowledge and as you ruminate, the walls of its outer meanings crumble away and the beauty of the previously invisible inner wisdom is revealed, and you begin to identify yourself in the story, and to acknowledge that you too could be as foolish or as lacking in discernment as the characters in these classic tales.
Here is a story called “Fifty Years of Politeness”:
An elderly couple celebrated their golden anniversary…while eating breakfast together, the woman thought, “for fifty years I’ve always been considerate of my husband and have always given him the crusty top of the bread roll. Today I want to finally enjoy this delicacy for myself.”
She spread the top part with butter and gave the other part to her husband.
Contrary to her expectations, he was very pleased, kissed her hand, and said, “My darling, you’ve just given me the greatest joy of the day. For over fifty years I haven’t eaten the bottom part of the bread roll, which is the part I like best. I always thought you should have it because you like it so much.”
I love and cherish this book which has enhanced me in all aspects of my life and browse through the stories quite often; and as I reflect and interpret I feel refreshed, enlightened and wiser. Whether it’s your work, marriage, relationships, children, or any situation or facet of your life, there’s sure to be an apt story in here for you which will put you on the path of self-dicovery.
I’ll conclude with a quote from this exquisite and unique book: Occasionally we can’t avoid science, math and erudite discussions which aid development of human consciousness. But occasionally we also need poetry, chess, and stories, so our spirit can find joy and refreshment.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Mouthwatering Memories
MOUTHWATERING MEMORIES
[ Idiappam and Chilli Chicken at Ceylon Bake House ]
By
VIKRAM KARVE
The last time I visited Ceylon Bake House off MG Road near Jos Junction in Ernakulam [ Kochi, then Cochin ] was almost a decade ago in 1987, but the nostalgic lip smacking gastronomic experience of Idiappam and Chili Chicken still delightfully lingers within me, and instantly makes my mouth water, so I hark back, reflect, reminisce and I write this from my memory. The place may have undergone a transformation now, maybe even metamorphosed into a highfalutin snobbish restaurant (I hope not!) but I recall Ceylon Bake House as a down-to-earth Value-For-Money eatery for authentic Kerala cuisine in Kochi. I wonder why it was called a “Bake House”!
It was an unpretentious place, but so popular that it was always bustling and crowded even past midnight. My favourite food here is the Idiappam and Chilli Chicken – I love eating the noodle-like rice-based soft and steaming Idiappams along with the zesty reddish Chilli Chicken, as the contrasting tastes sizzle, mingle, blend and marry on my tongue. I felt revitalized and recharged after every bite of the delicious combination.
I also liked the Fish Curry, Veg and Non-Veg Stews, Biryanis, Roasts, Kormas; Veg, Egg and Non-Veg Curries, and, not to forget, the heavenly yummy Malabar Parottas served at Ceylon Bake House.
If you are in Kochi, have a meal at Ceylon Bake House, and do let me know whether it is still the same old down-to-earth value for money authentic Kerala cuisine eatery it once was, or has it changed! And can someone please tell me where to find good Kerala cuisine in Pune.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
[ Idiappam and Chilli Chicken at Ceylon Bake House ]
By
VIKRAM KARVE
The last time I visited Ceylon Bake House off MG Road near Jos Junction in Ernakulam [ Kochi, then Cochin ] was almost a decade ago in 1987, but the nostalgic lip smacking gastronomic experience of Idiappam and Chili Chicken still delightfully lingers within me, and instantly makes my mouth water, so I hark back, reflect, reminisce and I write this from my memory. The place may have undergone a transformation now, maybe even metamorphosed into a highfalutin snobbish restaurant (I hope not!) but I recall Ceylon Bake House as a down-to-earth Value-For-Money eatery for authentic Kerala cuisine in Kochi. I wonder why it was called a “Bake House”!
It was an unpretentious place, but so popular that it was always bustling and crowded even past midnight. My favourite food here is the Idiappam and Chilli Chicken – I love eating the noodle-like rice-based soft and steaming Idiappams along with the zesty reddish Chilli Chicken, as the contrasting tastes sizzle, mingle, blend and marry on my tongue. I felt revitalized and recharged after every bite of the delicious combination.
I also liked the Fish Curry, Veg and Non-Veg Stews, Biryanis, Roasts, Kormas; Veg, Egg and Non-Veg Curries, and, not to forget, the heavenly yummy Malabar Parottas served at Ceylon Bake House.
If you are in Kochi, have a meal at Ceylon Bake House, and do let me know whether it is still the same old down-to-earth value for money authentic Kerala cuisine eatery it once was, or has it changed! And can someone please tell me where to find good Kerala cuisine in Pune.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
A Sense of Values
A SENSE OF VALUES
by
VIKRAM KARVE
Values are core beliefs which guide and motivate attitudes and behavior. When you value something you want it (or want it to happen). Values are relatively permanent desires. Values are answers to the “why” question. You keep on asking “why” questions until you reach a point where you no longer want something for the sake of something else. At this point you have arrived at a value.
Let’s take an example – I was once teaching a Post Graduate Professional course at a centre of excellence and I asked a student, “Why are you doing this course?”
“To gain qualifications,” he answered.
“Why do you want to gain qualifications?”
“To succeed in my career.”
“Why do you want to succeed in your career?”
“To reach the top.”
“Why do you want to reach the top?”
“To get power.”
“Why do want do you want power?”
“To control people,” he answered.
“Why do you want to control people?”
“I want to control people.”
“Why?”
“I like to control people.”
“Why?”
“Just for the sake of it – I like controlling people,” he said and further why’s elicited similar responses related to control. [Control for the sake of control!]
I realized that control was one of his values and maybe he was a future megalomaniac in the making!
The same line of questioning of persons undergoing higher education may reveal values like knowledge, money, status, standard of living, ambition, achievement, growth, reputation, excellence, fame.
Values are our subjective reactions to the world around us. They guide and mold our options and behavior. Values are developed early in life and are very resistant to change. Values develop out of our direct experiences with people who are important to us, particularly our parents. Values rise not out of what people tell us, but as a result how they behave toward us and others. Remember, there can’t be any “partial” values; for example: you cannot be 50% honest (half-honest) – either you are honest or you are not.
Are you doing you MBA? Keep asking yourself why you are doing it, and you will ultimately arrive at your value.
“Why are you doing your MBA?”
“To learn management.”
“Why do you want to learn management?”
“To get a good job in a top firm as a manager.”
“Why?”
“To make more money.”
“Why?”
“To have a high standard of living.”
The guy I was talking to re-iterated here since standard of living was his value but you can go on and on till you find your value. In one case I was surprised to find conformance as a prime value in a student of MBA – she was doing MBA because everyone else was doing it!
With the rise and predominance of the utility value of education, the most important criterion for ranking B-Schools is the pay-packet their students get and not other factors like the quality of faculty and infrastructure, academic achievements and ambience etc. That’s why there is a rush towards IT and Computer Science as compared to other more interesting and challenging branches of Engineering and Technology – money seems to be the cardinal value amongst students these days! Some do prefer the civil services even after completing their Engineering from premier institutions as, for them, things like status, service, power may be important values.
Is a high salary important to you?
Is it important for your work to involve interacting with people?
Is it important for your work to make a contribution to society?
Is having a prestigious job important for you?
It is most important for you to find out your own values (by the “why” method) to avoid value mismatch. Value mismatch is at the root cause of dilemmas in your life. A conflict between your personal and organizational values may result in ethical dilemmas, while value mismatch between two persons may sow discord and cause stress and turbulence in a relationship.
Your values are possibly the most important thing to consider when you're choosing an occupation. If you don't take your values into account when planning your career, there's a good chance you'll dislike your work and therefore not succeed in it. For example, someone who needs to have autonomy in his work would not be happy in a job where every action is decided by someone else.
It is important to distinguish between values, interests, personality, and skills:
Values: the things that are important to you, like achievement, status, and autonomy
Interests: what you enjoy doing, like reading, taking long walks, eating good food, hanging out with friends
Personality: a person's individual traits, motivational drives, needs, and attitudes
Skills: the activities you are good at, such as writing, computer programming, teaching
Of these, interests, skills and personality can be developed, but values are intrinsic core beliefs inherent within you which you must endeavor to discover by yourself.
Whether it is your work or relationships, value congruence is of paramount importance – your values must be in harmony for the relationship to tick. Value Dissonance due to mismatch between individual values and organizational values can cause great strain and trauma at the workplace.
Even within yourself, in order to avoid inner conflict there must be no confusion about your true values. Remember the saying of Mahatma Gandhi: Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Dear Reader, sit down in a quiet place all by yourself, introspect, ask yourself the “why” question and find out your own values. First know yourself. Then know others – try to ascertain their values (personal values and organizational values too!). Avoid value-mismatch and value-dissonance to the extent feasible. The mutual harmony in your values should determine your choice of work, activities, relationships, friends and partner.
Is freedom an important value for you? Will the job you are considering (or the person you want to marry) give you enough freedom?
Do you value leisure? Oh, yes! Leisure is not only an important value but also a determinant of character – If you want to know about a man find out how he spends his leisure! It’s true in your case too – If you had a day off what will you do? Read a book, write a story, go hiking outdoors, play your favorite sport, adventure sports, chat with friends, picnic, see a movie, eat your favorite cuisine in a restaurant, or cook it yourself, socialize in your club, spend the day at home with your family, or see TV at home, or just spend the day in glorious solitude enjoying quality time with yourself ? Or would you rather not “waste” your leisure time and spend the day doing something “useful” connected with your work, career or advancement towards “achieving” your “goals”? How you spend your leisure reveals your values too!
Do you value humor, fun, pleasure, food, enjoyment, sex, family life, quality of life, status, money, success, fame, power, prestige, security, nature, loyalty, love, affection, independence, privacy, togetherness, tranquility, adventure, leadership, followership, competition, contentment, creativity – find out for yourself, and in others who you want to relate with – match and harmonize your values, and be happy and fulfilled in your work and your relationships.
Remember, at any important milestone in your life, when you have to make a vital decision, whether you are on the verge of selecting a job or a marriage partner – trust your sense of values!
In conclusion here is a quote from the German Philosopher Friedrich Hegel:
“A man who has work that suits him and a wife, whom he loves, has squared his accounts with life”
Friedrich Hegel
Epilogue:
Is good food one of your true values? Try the “why” test [Start with “Why do you eat your favorite delicacy?” and go on and on till you reach your value] and do read my foodie blog at http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
If you love books and reading, have a look at my biblio blog at http://karve.sulekha.com
[ I wrote this article to clear my writer’s block, and now I’m already thinking about my next short story ]
Dear Reader, do comment and give me your feedback.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
by
VIKRAM KARVE
Values are core beliefs which guide and motivate attitudes and behavior. When you value something you want it (or want it to happen). Values are relatively permanent desires. Values are answers to the “why” question. You keep on asking “why” questions until you reach a point where you no longer want something for the sake of something else. At this point you have arrived at a value.
Let’s take an example – I was once teaching a Post Graduate Professional course at a centre of excellence and I asked a student, “Why are you doing this course?”
“To gain qualifications,” he answered.
“Why do you want to gain qualifications?”
“To succeed in my career.”
“Why do you want to succeed in your career?”
“To reach the top.”
“Why do you want to reach the top?”
“To get power.”
“Why do want do you want power?”
“To control people,” he answered.
“Why do you want to control people?”
“I want to control people.”
“Why?”
“I like to control people.”
“Why?”
“Just for the sake of it – I like controlling people,” he said and further why’s elicited similar responses related to control. [Control for the sake of control!]
I realized that control was one of his values and maybe he was a future megalomaniac in the making!
The same line of questioning of persons undergoing higher education may reveal values like knowledge, money, status, standard of living, ambition, achievement, growth, reputation, excellence, fame.
Values are our subjective reactions to the world around us. They guide and mold our options and behavior. Values are developed early in life and are very resistant to change. Values develop out of our direct experiences with people who are important to us, particularly our parents. Values rise not out of what people tell us, but as a result how they behave toward us and others. Remember, there can’t be any “partial” values; for example: you cannot be 50% honest (half-honest) – either you are honest or you are not.
Are you doing you MBA? Keep asking yourself why you are doing it, and you will ultimately arrive at your value.
“Why are you doing your MBA?”
“To learn management.”
“Why do you want to learn management?”
“To get a good job in a top firm as a manager.”
“Why?”
“To make more money.”
“Why?”
“To have a high standard of living.”
The guy I was talking to re-iterated here since standard of living was his value but you can go on and on till you find your value. In one case I was surprised to find conformance as a prime value in a student of MBA – she was doing MBA because everyone else was doing it!
With the rise and predominance of the utility value of education, the most important criterion for ranking B-Schools is the pay-packet their students get and not other factors like the quality of faculty and infrastructure, academic achievements and ambience etc. That’s why there is a rush towards IT and Computer Science as compared to other more interesting and challenging branches of Engineering and Technology – money seems to be the cardinal value amongst students these days! Some do prefer the civil services even after completing their Engineering from premier institutions as, for them, things like status, service, power may be important values.
Is a high salary important to you?
Is it important for your work to involve interacting with people?
Is it important for your work to make a contribution to society?
Is having a prestigious job important for you?
It is most important for you to find out your own values (by the “why” method) to avoid value mismatch. Value mismatch is at the root cause of dilemmas in your life. A conflict between your personal and organizational values may result in ethical dilemmas, while value mismatch between two persons may sow discord and cause stress and turbulence in a relationship.
Your values are possibly the most important thing to consider when you're choosing an occupation. If you don't take your values into account when planning your career, there's a good chance you'll dislike your work and therefore not succeed in it. For example, someone who needs to have autonomy in his work would not be happy in a job where every action is decided by someone else.
It is important to distinguish between values, interests, personality, and skills:
Values: the things that are important to you, like achievement, status, and autonomy
Interests: what you enjoy doing, like reading, taking long walks, eating good food, hanging out with friends
Personality: a person's individual traits, motivational drives, needs, and attitudes
Skills: the activities you are good at, such as writing, computer programming, teaching
Of these, interests, skills and personality can be developed, but values are intrinsic core beliefs inherent within you which you must endeavor to discover by yourself.
Whether it is your work or relationships, value congruence is of paramount importance – your values must be in harmony for the relationship to tick. Value Dissonance due to mismatch between individual values and organizational values can cause great strain and trauma at the workplace.
Even within yourself, in order to avoid inner conflict there must be no confusion about your true values. Remember the saying of Mahatma Gandhi: Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Dear Reader, sit down in a quiet place all by yourself, introspect, ask yourself the “why” question and find out your own values. First know yourself. Then know others – try to ascertain their values (personal values and organizational values too!). Avoid value-mismatch and value-dissonance to the extent feasible. The mutual harmony in your values should determine your choice of work, activities, relationships, friends and partner.
Is freedom an important value for you? Will the job you are considering (or the person you want to marry) give you enough freedom?
Do you value leisure? Oh, yes! Leisure is not only an important value but also a determinant of character – If you want to know about a man find out how he spends his leisure! It’s true in your case too – If you had a day off what will you do? Read a book, write a story, go hiking outdoors, play your favorite sport, adventure sports, chat with friends, picnic, see a movie, eat your favorite cuisine in a restaurant, or cook it yourself, socialize in your club, spend the day at home with your family, or see TV at home, or just spend the day in glorious solitude enjoying quality time with yourself ? Or would you rather not “waste” your leisure time and spend the day doing something “useful” connected with your work, career or advancement towards “achieving” your “goals”? How you spend your leisure reveals your values too!
Do you value humor, fun, pleasure, food, enjoyment, sex, family life, quality of life, status, money, success, fame, power, prestige, security, nature, loyalty, love, affection, independence, privacy, togetherness, tranquility, adventure, leadership, followership, competition, contentment, creativity – find out for yourself, and in others who you want to relate with – match and harmonize your values, and be happy and fulfilled in your work and your relationships.
Remember, at any important milestone in your life, when you have to make a vital decision, whether you are on the verge of selecting a job or a marriage partner – trust your sense of values!
In conclusion here is a quote from the German Philosopher Friedrich Hegel:
“A man who has work that suits him and a wife, whom he loves, has squared his accounts with life”
Friedrich Hegel
Epilogue:
Is good food one of your true values? Try the “why” test [Start with “Why do you eat your favorite delicacy?” and go on and on till you reach your value] and do read my foodie blog at http://foodiekarve.sulekha.com
If you love books and reading, have a look at my biblio blog at http://karve.sulekha.com
[ I wrote this article to clear my writer’s block, and now I’m already thinking about my next short story ]
Dear Reader, do comment and give me your feedback.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
My Favorite Fast Food
MY FAVORITE FAST FOOD
By
VIKRAM KARVE
My wife observes and indulges in (and consequently subjects me to) all types of fasts. She fasts on Mondays, Chaturthies and any occasion she wants to fast. Actually, her “fasts” are not true fasts in the rigorous real sense, only a change of food, to what I call “fast food” which is quite delicious and maybe a bit more calorie-rich than normal food (that’s the “fast food” I’m referring to, not the burgers and pizza you thought!).
My favorite fast food is the Kachori. No! No! It’s not the scrumptious Rajasthani style lip-smacking Khasta Kachori I’m referring to, but the Sweet Kachori served by most Udipi eateries in and around Mumbai and Pune.
Take boiled mashed potato, add a bit of sabudana peeth (sago flour) for binding, a pinch of salt and sugar and knead into a dough.
Roast fresh juicy grated coconut with sugar, khus khus, dry fruit like raisins, cashews, till it is nice and crispy “khamang” – and your filling is ready.
You must roast in pure ghee, as oil is not permitted on a “fast”.
Make largish round patties with the potato dough on the outside and a generous portion of the roasted sweet coconut filling inside and deep fry till nicely crusty, crisp and light brown and your sweet kachori is done (fast and simple isn’t it?).
Serve with a katori of whipped sweet curds and your “fast food” is ready to eat.
You will be tempted to break a piece of Kachori, dip it in the curds and then eat it – don’t do it, that’s not the right way to eat sweet kachori and you’ll ruin the experience as the concoction will turn soggy. What you must do is to place a chunk of crisp hot kachori on your tongue and close your eyes. Now savor the “khamang” crunchy taste of the lively roasted coconut filling for some time, then press your tongue on your palate and roll till the heavenly sweet filling and the crisp potato covering amalgamate. It’s really yummy!
Now is the time to pop in a spoon of sweet curds, and let the feisty assortment of flavors dance and mingle on your tongue till the food dissolves in your mouth and disappears into you giving you a feeling of supreme satisfaction. [I once saw a movie called “Blow Hot Blow Cold” in the seventies – the art of eating a sweet kachori is similar: hot and cold, hot and cold, crunchy and soft, crunchy and soft, sweet and sour, sweet and sour!].
I first tasted the sweet kachori at a place called Apsara near Hirabaug on Tilak Road in Pune. It’s still my favorite. Vihar, at Churchgate in Mumbai, serves an excellent sweet kachori too; and I’m sure you’ll find it on the menu of almost all Udipi restaurants.
So next time you want to relish your “fast” you know which “fast food” to eat, in addition to the usual sabudana khichadi, sabudana wade and ratalyacha kees.
Happy fasting!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
By
VIKRAM KARVE
My wife observes and indulges in (and consequently subjects me to) all types of fasts. She fasts on Mondays, Chaturthies and any occasion she wants to fast. Actually, her “fasts” are not true fasts in the rigorous real sense, only a change of food, to what I call “fast food” which is quite delicious and maybe a bit more calorie-rich than normal food (that’s the “fast food” I’m referring to, not the burgers and pizza you thought!).
My favorite fast food is the Kachori. No! No! It’s not the scrumptious Rajasthani style lip-smacking Khasta Kachori I’m referring to, but the Sweet Kachori served by most Udipi eateries in and around Mumbai and Pune.
Take boiled mashed potato, add a bit of sabudana peeth (sago flour) for binding, a pinch of salt and sugar and knead into a dough.
Roast fresh juicy grated coconut with sugar, khus khus, dry fruit like raisins, cashews, till it is nice and crispy “khamang” – and your filling is ready.
You must roast in pure ghee, as oil is not permitted on a “fast”.
Make largish round patties with the potato dough on the outside and a generous portion of the roasted sweet coconut filling inside and deep fry till nicely crusty, crisp and light brown and your sweet kachori is done (fast and simple isn’t it?).
Serve with a katori of whipped sweet curds and your “fast food” is ready to eat.
You will be tempted to break a piece of Kachori, dip it in the curds and then eat it – don’t do it, that’s not the right way to eat sweet kachori and you’ll ruin the experience as the concoction will turn soggy. What you must do is to place a chunk of crisp hot kachori on your tongue and close your eyes. Now savor the “khamang” crunchy taste of the lively roasted coconut filling for some time, then press your tongue on your palate and roll till the heavenly sweet filling and the crisp potato covering amalgamate. It’s really yummy!
Now is the time to pop in a spoon of sweet curds, and let the feisty assortment of flavors dance and mingle on your tongue till the food dissolves in your mouth and disappears into you giving you a feeling of supreme satisfaction. [I once saw a movie called “Blow Hot Blow Cold” in the seventies – the art of eating a sweet kachori is similar: hot and cold, hot and cold, crunchy and soft, crunchy and soft, sweet and sour, sweet and sour!].
I first tasted the sweet kachori at a place called Apsara near Hirabaug on Tilak Road in Pune. It’s still my favorite. Vihar, at Churchgate in Mumbai, serves an excellent sweet kachori too; and I’m sure you’ll find it on the menu of almost all Udipi restaurants.
So next time you want to relish your “fast” you know which “fast food” to eat, in addition to the usual sabudana khichadi, sabudana wade and ratalyacha kees.
Happy fasting!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Pune
PUNE - Down Memory Lane
By
VIKRAM KARVE
September 12, 2006. I turn 50. After traversing the length and breadth of the country for almost all my life I’m back in my hometown Pune. I am overcome by nostalgia, for the Pune I once lived in no longer exists.
Then, in the early sixties, when I was a small boy, Pune was called Poona, and I used to live in my grandfather’s house on Parvati Chowk on Tilak Road opposite Madiwale Colony in Sadashiv Peth. A hugely bearded man prepared the best bhel in town (Kalpana Bhel) just below our house; today the bearded man is no more, the stall is there, but the old tasty bhel is missing – today it’s just run of the mill stuff. And there was Santosh Bhavan opposite for Misal, thali and yummy snacks.
In the evenings we ran to Talyatla Ganpati, to pray, and Peshwe Park zoo, to see the animals, play on the swings and slides in the park, or ride the toy train Phulrani. Now there is a beautiful Saras Baug surrounding the Talyatla Ganpati Temple and the zoo has gone to Katraj.
If you wanted to have Non-Veg, there were Asara, Jeevan, Poonam, Good Luck and Lucky in the city, otherwise you had to go to Camp. Asara has closed down, Jeevan has become Grahak Peth departmental store, Poonam a pure veg place, Lucky demolished; only Good Luck at Deccan is going strong. There was Poona Coffee House at Deccan, and Irani joints like Ideal, Regal and Volga, for tea, coffee, bun maska, ommlette, kheema pav and samosas. In Camp there was the famous Naaz serving delectable mutton samosas and the Coffee House on Moledina Road serving delicious breakfast.
Naaz has been replaced by Barista, and it’s other avatar, the Maha Naaz, a veg place, is also going to close down. Most of the Irani joints and the Camp Coffee House have been transformed into Udipi eateries serving Dosa and the like, and Poona Coffee House, which underwent an upmarket transformation, may also close down as per a report in Sakal. Yes, Sakal, my favorite Marathi newspaper, is still going strong, but the Poona Herald (called Herald now) has The Times of India and the Indian Express to reckon with.
In camp Dorabjee & Sons is still there for scrumptious Biryani and Parsi food, but the inimitable Kamling on East Street, where I first tasted Chinese, has disappeared and in its place stands a veg thali place which I must visit.
Bhanuvilas, where I saw Marathi films, New Empire, which screened Hollywood stuff, and Hindvijay at Deccan have vanished, and the old world West End with its unique chairs and soda fountain has been replaced by a modern hall minus the soda fountain and the relaxed ambience. Now there are Multiplexes.
I can go on and on in this vein, but that will make me melancholic. So let’s look at the positive side – Ganu Shinde, Kawre are still there for pot ice cream, but Bua has gone. Ramnath and its fiery Misal still stimulate, and so do most of the Amrututulyas like Ambika and New Ambika and Badshahi Boarding is still unchanged. In camp there is George, Kayani, Kwality, Marzorin, Mona Food and Budhanis. And all the sweet shops like Chitale, Kaka Halwai, Karachi and Bhavnagri are flourishing from strength to strength. And many new places have come up. And all the bookstores like Manneys, International, Popular and the ones at Appa Balwant Chowk are getting better and better, and there is Crossword too.
And of course, “Yours’ truly” is still going strong at 50. So I’m going to celebrate my half century - Happy Birthday to me!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
By
VIKRAM KARVE
September 12, 2006. I turn 50. After traversing the length and breadth of the country for almost all my life I’m back in my hometown Pune. I am overcome by nostalgia, for the Pune I once lived in no longer exists.
Then, in the early sixties, when I was a small boy, Pune was called Poona, and I used to live in my grandfather’s house on Parvati Chowk on Tilak Road opposite Madiwale Colony in Sadashiv Peth. A hugely bearded man prepared the best bhel in town (Kalpana Bhel) just below our house; today the bearded man is no more, the stall is there, but the old tasty bhel is missing – today it’s just run of the mill stuff. And there was Santosh Bhavan opposite for Misal, thali and yummy snacks.
In the evenings we ran to Talyatla Ganpati, to pray, and Peshwe Park zoo, to see the animals, play on the swings and slides in the park, or ride the toy train Phulrani. Now there is a beautiful Saras Baug surrounding the Talyatla Ganpati Temple and the zoo has gone to Katraj.
If you wanted to have Non-Veg, there were Asara, Jeevan, Poonam, Good Luck and Lucky in the city, otherwise you had to go to Camp. Asara has closed down, Jeevan has become Grahak Peth departmental store, Poonam a pure veg place, Lucky demolished; only Good Luck at Deccan is going strong. There was Poona Coffee House at Deccan, and Irani joints like Ideal, Regal and Volga, for tea, coffee, bun maska, ommlette, kheema pav and samosas. In Camp there was the famous Naaz serving delectable mutton samosas and the Coffee House on Moledina Road serving delicious breakfast.
Naaz has been replaced by Barista, and it’s other avatar, the Maha Naaz, a veg place, is also going to close down. Most of the Irani joints and the Camp Coffee House have been transformed into Udipi eateries serving Dosa and the like, and Poona Coffee House, which underwent an upmarket transformation, may also close down as per a report in Sakal. Yes, Sakal, my favorite Marathi newspaper, is still going strong, but the Poona Herald (called Herald now) has The Times of India and the Indian Express to reckon with.
In camp Dorabjee & Sons is still there for scrumptious Biryani and Parsi food, but the inimitable Kamling on East Street, where I first tasted Chinese, has disappeared and in its place stands a veg thali place which I must visit.
Bhanuvilas, where I saw Marathi films, New Empire, which screened Hollywood stuff, and Hindvijay at Deccan have vanished, and the old world West End with its unique chairs and soda fountain has been replaced by a modern hall minus the soda fountain and the relaxed ambience. Now there are Multiplexes.
I can go on and on in this vein, but that will make me melancholic. So let’s look at the positive side – Ganu Shinde, Kawre are still there for pot ice cream, but Bua has gone. Ramnath and its fiery Misal still stimulate, and so do most of the Amrututulyas like Ambika and New Ambika and Badshahi Boarding is still unchanged. In camp there is George, Kayani, Kwality, Marzorin, Mona Food and Budhanis. And all the sweet shops like Chitale, Kaka Halwai, Karachi and Bhavnagri are flourishing from strength to strength. And many new places have come up. And all the bookstores like Manneys, International, Popular and the ones at Appa Balwant Chowk are getting better and better, and there is Crossword too.
And of course, “Yours’ truly” is still going strong at 50. So I’m going to celebrate my half century - Happy Birthday to me!
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
MANAGEMENT OF THE ABSURD
Browsing Books: MANAGEMENT OF THE ABSURD
By
Vikram Karve
Book Review by Vikram Karve
The Book:
TITLE: MANAGEMENT OF THE ABSURD
AUTHOR: RICHARD FARSON
PUBLISHED: 1996 TOUCHSTONE NEW YORK
ISBN 0-684-80080-2
Leafing through my beloved books on my bookshelves is one of my favorite pastimes. I love the company, the smell and the feel of books, as I leisurely browse and glance through the varied books I have collected over the years. And maybe select one for perusal.
This morning I picked up a delightful management classic called Management of the Absurd by Richard Farson. I acquired my copy on 06 May 1999 in the Pune Book Fair (that’s what I’ve written below my name on the first page). It is a laconic book which explores the paradoxes of management in an extremely witty manner. Let’s browse through this wonderful book together.
In his foreword Michael Crichton writes: “In this book Richard Farson reports more than experience; he gives us …wisdom”.
The 172 page book has eight parts and thirty three chapters, and as the author says in the introduction, these chapters need not necessarily be read in sequence, but in whatever order appeals to the reader. Let’s do just that.
“Morale is unrelated to productivity” the author says chapter in 27, turning conventional HR wisdom on its head. He deprecates management practices of pampering and mollycoddling employees (which one reads of particularly in the IT sector), giving gifts, holding parties, recognizing birthdays, gestures of goodwill and other HR gimmicks designed to court employee favor as a calculated morale-raising strategy. Self-actualized people, who were among the greatest achievers in our society, were not necessarily comfortable or happy; they could be ruthless, boring, stuffy, irritating, and humorless and organizations are absolutely dependent on such people. You don’t agree, don’t you? That’s why you must read this book, which turns things you have learnt topsy-turvy and gives you something to think about.
Effective Managers are not in control, emphasizing the vulnerability requirement in a leader. Absurdly, our most important human affairs – marriage, child rearing, education, leadership – do best when there is occasional loss of control and an increase in personal vulnerability, the author says, and compares leadership with romance. If you know how to have a romance, it isn’t a romance, but a seduction. Not knowing how to do it makes it a romance; it’s the same for leadership, an intangible quality, management techniques don’t work. Genuineness in relationships is the only way to lead professionals.
Training leads to the development of skills and techniques, and suggests the possibility of control. Education leads to information and knowledge, which suggests the possibility of understanding, even wisdom. Wisdom involves humility, compassion and respect – essential to effective leadership!
Training makes people more alike, education tends to make people different from each other, so the first benefit of education is that the manager becomes unique, independent. “Don't try to train leaders. Educate them!” the author exhorts.
Planning is an ineffective way to bring about change. Too often it is an empty ritual designed to make management feel there is something going on in that area.
There are paradoxes and paradoxes, absurdities and absurdities!
Individuals are strong, but organizations are not.
The better things are the worse they feel, says the theory of rising expectations, and that’s why good marriages are more likely to fail than bad ones, and second marriages are better than first marriages, but shorter!
In communication, form is more important than content, praising people does not motivate them, and the more we communicate, the less we communicate.
The ‘meat’ of the book is the chapter on – The “Technology” of Human Relations. Exploring the impact of technology on Human relations, the author discusses how technology invents us, develops a life of its own and with every application of technology a counterforce develops that is the exact opposite of what we intended. The danger is that we become so in love with technological applications that we forget its detrimental effects; he illustrates his point with examples of how computer technology increases design capability but stifles creativity. We must focus on Relationship Enrichment rather than acquisition of techniques of management skills, he suggests, since the more important a relationship, the less skill matters.
The book is replete with startling insights. The author states his message in his introduction: “I believe many programs in management training today are moving us in the wrong direction because they fail to appreciate the complexity and paradoxical nature of human organizations. Thinking loses out to how-to-do-it formulas and techniques, if not to slogans and homilies, as the principle management guides.”
This is a refreshing, original and thought provoking book. A rare gem in the plethora of management literature. Something different from the run of the mill stuff. Do read it. You’ll be glad you did.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
By
Vikram Karve
Book Review by Vikram Karve
The Book:
TITLE: MANAGEMENT OF THE ABSURD
AUTHOR: RICHARD FARSON
PUBLISHED: 1996 TOUCHSTONE NEW YORK
ISBN 0-684-80080-2
Leafing through my beloved books on my bookshelves is one of my favorite pastimes. I love the company, the smell and the feel of books, as I leisurely browse and glance through the varied books I have collected over the years. And maybe select one for perusal.
This morning I picked up a delightful management classic called Management of the Absurd by Richard Farson. I acquired my copy on 06 May 1999 in the Pune Book Fair (that’s what I’ve written below my name on the first page). It is a laconic book which explores the paradoxes of management in an extremely witty manner. Let’s browse through this wonderful book together.
In his foreword Michael Crichton writes: “In this book Richard Farson reports more than experience; he gives us …wisdom”.
The 172 page book has eight parts and thirty three chapters, and as the author says in the introduction, these chapters need not necessarily be read in sequence, but in whatever order appeals to the reader. Let’s do just that.
“Morale is unrelated to productivity” the author says chapter in 27, turning conventional HR wisdom on its head. He deprecates management practices of pampering and mollycoddling employees (which one reads of particularly in the IT sector), giving gifts, holding parties, recognizing birthdays, gestures of goodwill and other HR gimmicks designed to court employee favor as a calculated morale-raising strategy. Self-actualized people, who were among the greatest achievers in our society, were not necessarily comfortable or happy; they could be ruthless, boring, stuffy, irritating, and humorless and organizations are absolutely dependent on such people. You don’t agree, don’t you? That’s why you must read this book, which turns things you have learnt topsy-turvy and gives you something to think about.
Effective Managers are not in control, emphasizing the vulnerability requirement in a leader. Absurdly, our most important human affairs – marriage, child rearing, education, leadership – do best when there is occasional loss of control and an increase in personal vulnerability, the author says, and compares leadership with romance. If you know how to have a romance, it isn’t a romance, but a seduction. Not knowing how to do it makes it a romance; it’s the same for leadership, an intangible quality, management techniques don’t work. Genuineness in relationships is the only way to lead professionals.
Training leads to the development of skills and techniques, and suggests the possibility of control. Education leads to information and knowledge, which suggests the possibility of understanding, even wisdom. Wisdom involves humility, compassion and respect – essential to effective leadership!
Training makes people more alike, education tends to make people different from each other, so the first benefit of education is that the manager becomes unique, independent. “Don't try to train leaders. Educate them!” the author exhorts.
Planning is an ineffective way to bring about change. Too often it is an empty ritual designed to make management feel there is something going on in that area.
There are paradoxes and paradoxes, absurdities and absurdities!
Individuals are strong, but organizations are not.
The better things are the worse they feel, says the theory of rising expectations, and that’s why good marriages are more likely to fail than bad ones, and second marriages are better than first marriages, but shorter!
In communication, form is more important than content, praising people does not motivate them, and the more we communicate, the less we communicate.
The ‘meat’ of the book is the chapter on – The “Technology” of Human Relations. Exploring the impact of technology on Human relations, the author discusses how technology invents us, develops a life of its own and with every application of technology a counterforce develops that is the exact opposite of what we intended. The danger is that we become so in love with technological applications that we forget its detrimental effects; he illustrates his point with examples of how computer technology increases design capability but stifles creativity. We must focus on Relationship Enrichment rather than acquisition of techniques of management skills, he suggests, since the more important a relationship, the less skill matters.
The book is replete with startling insights. The author states his message in his introduction: “I believe many programs in management training today are moving us in the wrong direction because they fail to appreciate the complexity and paradoxical nature of human organizations. Thinking loses out to how-to-do-it formulas and techniques, if not to slogans and homilies, as the principle management guides.”
This is a refreshing, original and thought provoking book. A rare gem in the plethora of management literature. Something different from the run of the mill stuff. Do read it. You’ll be glad you did.
VIKRAM KARVE
vikramkarve@sify.com
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