The case against declutter

There was an article in today's newspaper about decluttering...got me thinking on how storage vs binnage is not necessarily a binary proposition.

Every now and then, over the past 8 years, I look at this "thing": bulky, dull-coloured,  almost covered on all sides with minimal holes to let in the day light. It is too big to hide and not good for storage.

Also, it brings back memories...of a hot August afternoon, when I was to made to  experience spiralling, sky rocketing frustration at the local customs/immigration. All I could do was look at the crate helplessly from an air conditioned office in the local Customs as it lay in a corner of a warehouse with trains of trolleys wheeling past, some carelessly nudging it, amidst the frequent noise of planes landing and taking off.

No one there knew that it contained precious cargo...our little Benjy had landed (after two flights from Australia) earlier that morning .

I had already waited for close to 2 hours, carrying food and water for him and it was way past his meal time.

I wasn't allowed to approach the crate as the officer had to first examine the contents and then clear the crate.

The  officer hadn't reported for work yet.

Beseeching the underlings in that office was of no avail as bureaucracy prevailed.

At my wits end, I begged them to at least move the crate into the office and was curtly informed that animals weren't allowed inside!

Unwilling to prolong this situation, I decided to take matters into my hands as it was really hot outside.

I went out and with great difficulty managed to carry the pet transportation crate as it was called into the office. It was dirty and smelly with an irate Benjy barking his head off at me. He was filthy, tired, hungry and dehydrated. Poo and food were all over the bottom of the crate and Benjy being an OCD, was clearly struggling with it all.

There was a chorus of ," how can you..." from the staff to which I responded with , "well if your officials can't be sensitive to a precious pet's situation, it can't be helped".

When they started to create a scene, I kept them at bay, warning them  that if anything happened to my pet, they would be morally responsible.

Yet, they refused to clear it waiting for their boss to come and certify. 

Meanwhile, I had carried food and water for Benjy but soon realised that the crate was sealed. 

Again, there was resistance to allow me to feed Benjy. Eventually, I called one of the staff aside and explained that the animal would be dead by the time the boss came by.

Overcome by emotion, and not heeding his remonstration I removed the sticker, opened the crate, put my hand in and hand-fed Benjy who only started barking more and more in an otherwise quiet AC office.

The staff kept saying that it was treason or words like that.

As I closed the crate, the officer finally arrive and approached me curious to know what was going on.

He enquired as to why the seal was broken and wondered what the fuss was about.

Then he got distracted by Benjy and asked what breed was, where he was from  and so on

As I explained the context to him, that Benjy had travelled for over 36 hours including a 24 hour transit, the only thing that he fastened on to was my name and wondered whether I was from his home State.

He was quite happy when I mentioned that my wife was born in his hometown and that she spoke his language too, and wanted to know why we went abroad, how long we stayed there...in fact the story of our life over the last decade, while I kept up my request for immediate customs clearance.

The minutes were like hours now and his diffidence didn't help.

Then he started going on and on about indiscriminate smuggling, as he examined the paperwork and (rather lamely) acknowledged that my papers were ok. He tried to highlight the "illegality" of breaking the seal on an immigrant pet crate without his approval, even while I clarified the humanitarian grounds for the same/re-sealing the crate in the customs' teams presence and the conversation wasn't going anywhere.

As Benjy continued barking from within the crate, I decided to change tack, as it was a while since Benjy and I were in the same room with a sealed crate preventing our physical bonding.

I casually informed him that my father had worked as a lawyer in his home town and mentioned the suburb where he had lived, how I loved the food in that city, etc etc.

Somewhere, this helped and I was able to clear Benjy within 45 minutes after the officer's arrival, of course a full 4 hours from when I entered the airport...feeling hungry and dehydrated myself. However, it was still annoying for Benjy as he couldn't get out of the crate until we reached home to a joyous reunion.

After that long journey, the crate was cleaned and kept aside...where it stayed....

Try as we did, we couldn't get rid of it and couldn't recycle it either...

..and, it moved with us when we relocated in a year to another house...where it stayed...and stayed for over 5 years.

Lying under the staircase, it attracted my attention regularly.

It was a constant source of annoyance, the sheer lack of utility with memories, especially the Customs episode that was almost  cruel, given the insensitivity to Benjy...  but I didn't know what to do with it...

And so it stayed, under the staircase...

Until, two years back.

I was strolling after dinner in our yard when I heard the soft sound of something falling close by.

Benjy was on to it immediately and we spotted a baby crow. I thought that it would have fallen from the wall and kept it on the wall.

Again it fell down and the closed wings opened briefly.

The wife swung into action. 

She called our dear pet food supplier, Shravan, and based on his advice, we decided to provide shelter to the bird for the night.

However, there were no options for isolated space within the house....well, until our eyes fell on the redundant crate under the staircase.

Immediately, we took out the crate, cleaned it, kept the bird in it with some food and water and kept watch anxiously overnight.

By morning, the bird which must have starved and gotten dehydrated started to stir and helped itself to a few drops of water.

Shravan, had already guaranteed the bird's survival and it was nice to see signs of life gradually emerging.

24 hours later, we took it out to the back yard and lo! Watched its flight to freedom.

After cleaning, we put away the crate which I started looking at with a different point of view.

A few months back, my mother -in-law was strolling the yard early morning and saw a baby squirrel on the ground.

It was a baby which must have fallen off the gooseberry tree from quite a height.

While it moved in my hands, it was clearly too weak and exhausted.

A call to Shravan, a visit to the vet at 7.00 am [he assured us that while there was no major injury, the  baby would need a few days to recover] followed by a quick tidy-up of  the crate, and the squirrel was tucked in for the day.

The next morning, while it nibbled at grated carrot, it was clearly too weak to eat properly. We administered a few drops of water using a syringe  a few times the next day.

By the end of the day, it was strong enough to bite the syringe and help itself to carrot.

It was a joyous sight to behold when we opened the crate next morning. It ran around in circles and climbed up the coconut tree.

The most recent episode was a baby parrot that fell down from a tree in stormy weather last week 

Between my wife, Benjy and our neighborhood cat Berty, they identified the poor thing, looking wet and miserable as it stood camouflaged neatly in a hibiscus bush.  We kept it inside the crate over a weekend with adequate food and water and enjoyed watching its joyous flight out after it had regained its strength.

Through all of this, the crate that stirred such mixed feelings in me earlier and which we were unable to get rid of, has undergone a change of status.  

A temporary safe haven for a crow, a squirrel and a parrot to regain their strength and heal...it is now clean and on standby... 

For the next visitor....!

 

Bin there done that

 In the last few days, I have been literally tongue tied after a throat surgery.

With potent antibiotics that assimilate chemicals at regular intervals into all parts of the physical being, there is an antibiotic hangover as opposed to the "groggy" feeling.

During the recent festival celebrating Lord Ganesha, it struck me that it would be auspicious to embark on some new initiative.

Mobility being a challenge it had to be something sedentary, yet a journey of endeavour.

I decided to do what perhaps very few fellow humans have done...

Clean up my mail box.

Having close to 65000+ messages, it had been constantly whispering that I'd used up 98% of the available space for a few weeks now.

And I decided to address its concern.

Acknowledging that I may delete the wrong mails in my current state, I decided to go to the origin of the mail box which I set up in 2005. 

Attempted screening the first 50 mails and then the next and so on and so forth.

The first one was the welcome to gmail message and didn't need too much analysis..Press Delete.

Then the responses to my first mail out, wherein I shared the mail id with the students at Queensland University of Technology where I was a full time student....Press Delete.

After going through a few more, it didn't appeal to the laidback side of my persona that needed indulgence given, well, the current reality.

Toggled across a few more screens

Then I unearthed  heaps and heaps...

Of  product and event mailers from multiple professional fora that I was a part of ... unsolicited real estate and stock market updates....birthday greetings from candidates contesting elections for professional bodies...dating requests...fund raising alerts... the spam was deafening.

Did a few key word searches.

Hit upon the search word "update" which automatically isolated 18000+ mails. I promptly binned them.

And then I got into the flow of things.

Quick scans of each page before the customary "delete for ever" from the bin.

Over the last couple of days, I completed the task.

Now I am looking at the other emails.

Most of them are unopened forwards which are easy to deal with.

Along the way are memories popping up...of life experiences, adventures and events... that have influenced/developed me and brought me to the present.

Now it is time to re-acknowledge them albeit briefly and dispassionately and move on.

This also helped reconnect with old friends who I'm sure are bewildered to suddenly receive an email that they shared a decade back announcing a new arrival in the family!

The sting is also gone out of painful experiences....while a treasure trove of memories is safely archived.

Cathartic experience for sure.

No if you'll excuse me I need to get back to the 1000s of unattended emails... to open up capacity for new emails and related life experiences as life's energy and indomitable spirit surges ahead

Please don't drop me a line or two now to wish me luck in this endeavour...you understand of course!

A tale of two cars in one city

The inevitable was finally headlined today...10 September 2021

Ford Motors announced the formal closure of their manufacturing facility in Madras aka Chennai, India.

This has all the ingredients of a film script with several interesting twists and turns over the last 25 years.  However, as they say, while Shakespeare covered all possible story themes across multiple genres, we still love every re-tell albeit with different characters. And of course, our own Ramayana and Mahabharata which dwell on human foibles as well.

I must admit upfront that I did not have a ringside view of the spectacle at the time. Yet I was reasonably present in Madras in the mid 90s when the narrative emerged and was in a position to form multiple impressions.

This is really about my impressions...

Hyundai and Ford entered India through Madras with much fanfare in the early 90s.

As the auto ancillary center of the country, it was but appropriate that the two car manufacturers were attracted to Madras. Politically, it was sweet poetic justice given that the country's largest car manufacturer at the time [Maruti] chose to take root elsewhere.

Then the events unfolded.

Land parcels were organised, and the bureaucracy moved swiftly to help with the necessary approvals.

Ford was Ford...the ultimate symbol of America's capitalist dreams taking seed...in a country that sought to shed the socialist limitations of several decades and wanted capitalism to take wing.

And, Hyundai was a wannabe, reflecting the aspirations of a growing Korean presence in the sector.  Much as the Japanese threw off the shackles of mediocrity in quality a few decades before and made defiant strides across the world economy, the Koreans were keen..to prove to themselves that they could...and that, if they tried hard they would usurp Japan's pivotal space in car manufacture.

Ford shipped a beaten down plant from another part of the world, with no major homework of the local manufacturing conditions or the new market. Perhaps they were complacent that the Hollywood films of the 70s and 80s had already given their brand adequate exposure to the prospects....whereas Hyundai built a spanking new facility from scratch.

It was normal  for morning walkers in most parts of the city to see clusters of Koreans gathered in the twilight waiting for the factory bus to pick them up.  Theirs was a commitment underlined by passion and bracketed with enthusiasm to make the best of this golden opportunity.  

Most of them seemed to have their families Korea and shared accommodation in apartments, an increasing shift in real estate trends at the time.  They were workaholics and did not seems to have much of a life outside work.

As for Ford, they wanted to ensure that the ground was prepared adequately.  

An American school was set up, followed by club memberships in the premier clubs.

Given that this was a hardship third world posting, the incumbents wanted value for money especially with respect to accommodation and lifestyle.

The generous rupee equivalent of the dollar eligibility for Ford expats undergoing hardship did wonders for the local real estate.  Out of nowhere the coast line was suddenly dotted with posh beach properties, clinically designed and maintained gardens, swimming pools, etc.  The owners of those properties harvested a windfall and property prices shot up.

Interestingly the Hyundai employees opted to stay in suburbs within reach of their site while the Ford employees had a long commute from the beach houses at the other end of the city.

There was one committed CEO of Ford in the late 90s who decided that he was happy to stay in an apartment in the city as he needed to convey a message about cutting costs ....... and, the resultant whispers were obvious as the lifestyle of the expats sought to be curbed gradually.

However by then it was already too late.

Hyundai had already roped in a credible Bollywood star - Shahrukh Khan as their brand ambassador to kick off the marketing.  

Assiduously they went about the task of building the plant and rolled out their first vehicles with amazing alacrity...Ford was still bumbling around.

The first few Hyundai Santro vehicles were auctioned with a lot of publicity and the proceeds contributed to the Prime Minister's charity.

Hyundai had arrived with aplomb...!

Then they went from strength to strength. Their design of a tall boy entry level car hit the right notes and sales took off instantly.  The rest is history...they achieved their sales target for the first year and never looked back. 

Doesn't this resonate with the filmi stereotype of two children, one born in challenging circumstances becoming a slum-dog billionaire while the other is born rich, and probably remains rich but alas not a billionaire?! 

There are cats and cats...

A recent experience changed my view of the Felis catus or Felis silvestris catus once and for all. I'm referring of course to the much domesticated pussy cat.

I've kept my distance with these animals finding them to be self centred and emotially unexpressive.

Until the weekend at Barry's farm with his menagerie of 14 cats.

Apparently they were all wild cats to begin with and Barry found them to be useful for hunting rats and started feeding them as a result.

They all look the same with varying shades of colour when you first see them

However his knowledge of their character traits is amazing equally their success in educating him about their attitudes, behaviours and preferences. To share a few:

• Tinkerball is a complete snob. She will not eat with the others at meal time and sleep on a mat in front of Barry's room.
• Knuffles (a variation of Natalie, dunno how this happened) comes in after dark and sits on the heater.
•  Eebie jumps up on the table to eat  with us homo sapiens and is therefore not allowed not in at meal time.
• Possum loves to climb on people's laps and do a flip exposing his tummy to be scratched
• Roley is the Zen completely unaffected by issues that others grapple with

The fellow traveller

Everyone has their own unique challenges with travel and I am no exception.

Not surprisingly I have my own too.

Mine revolves around the population that is defined as the fellow traveler for the most part and other well meaning friends and acquaintances.

The issue is always the same.

“What are we flying on today?” the person will ask.

“A plane” I mumble struggling to locate the seat belt which is buried in the cleft between my seat and this other, contorting the body which is anyway already contorted with limited leg room.

“Not that…I meant… what have we here”, looks at the handout with instructions for an emergency, “a Boeing 7-some number-7” with a knowing look.

“Hope it is better than the last one that I flew on. The food was hopeless. But then again XXX Airlines has the same plane with a screen in front of the seat, not like this where we need opera glasses not that it helps with the glare of the lights. …

Also these modern planes are too quiet. You worry whether we are flying at all. I prefer the noisy Caravelle or Fokker from the old days personally….

The latest Airbus apparently has better leg room but these airlines are so cheap they don’t even offer candy nowadays, why will they buy planes which have lesser seats…

The seats are another issue. I like the combo of 2-aisle-3-aisle-2. Some planes have that still even for long haul flights….

After all this they are still late and they always lose my luggage somewhere along the way…”

You would have noted from my clever and subtle use of punctuation that the multiple dots represent the parts of the rave, rant and ramble that I would have faded out of unknowingly. The inverted comma that started from “Hope it is better...” ended only in the para above which means that I did not need to respond anyway.

By then the attendant would announce that the Sydney LA flight was at journey’s end and soon I would saunter past  my erstwhile fellow traveler still waiting for his or her luggage wondering….if only they reinstate the earlier practice of distributing cotton balls to passengers I for one wouldn’t mind paying more for the seat.

Then comes the next bit. Your host receives you and complains about the timing of the flight and how they had to take off a whole day from work but couldn’t work from home as the PC conked out or something.

Then you have to make a presentation of the various airlines on this route and justify the reason for taking this flight.

Then comes the embarrassing aspect of the fare for the ticket. Without bothering to ask after me , that has to be the first question in question. I would have always paid an exorbitant fare based on the incredulous eye-brows lifted “really” from the listener.

Of course I would have tried several travel agents, the airline office and the internet but that has to be explained in full...all futile anyway what with the oncoming jet lag things can only go downhill from here.

And months later all this has to be reviewed threadbare in most social situations.

And so it goes…awfully sorry to stop this abruptly but I have a plane to catch and fellow travelers to bond with…

Something in Tamizh...

தை பிறந்தால் வழி பிறக்கும் ... தை தை என்று குதித்தால் ... ??!!

What others think

This obsession with what will others think is probably the world's most limiting attribute.In many instances what the others thought has deprived the world of so many talents. This is more so in societies where a woman's role was pre-defined and limited by the others.