An interesting sight

A dog waiting for his turn to cross the road at the sion hospital signal.

Have you ever seen a milkman sleeping?

I saw him.

Mere zindagi ki ek purani hasrat aaj puri ho gayi!

Scenes at a Sale

Two Schools and a Market Opportunity

I have enclosed images of 2 schools in a village called Chikan, in Pijore - Haryana.

One is a secondary school, while the other is a kindergarten school.

One lacked basic infrastructure while the other had limited infrastructure.

I spoke to a few parents and students in the vicinity and nobody really cared about the inadequate infrastructure. They said they were there because of
1. Their lack of choice
2. Availability of teachers!!!

I always have heated arguments with my friends about giving precedence to the quality of infrastructure as much as quality of teaching. I do sincerely feel that good infrastructure can act as a strong motivator to increase student intake and decrease drop out rates.

Looking at these two schools, with happy students and parents, despite of inadequate infrastructure and average quality of teachers, I realize that the problem is more complex than as envisaged by me or my friends.

There needs to be a model that can work, since the demand is so high and consumer expectations are so low. An ideal scenario for any corporate to get excited.

Wonder what would make the Government excited? Can they create an ONGC, Indian Oil, Hindustan Petroleum, State Bank of India, BSNL, in the education sector?

There is one Verghese Kurien waiting to happen in education.

Hope he arrives sooner than later.

Why do I write?

Orhan Pamuk's Nobel acceptance speech:

"For me, to be a writer is to acknowledge the secret wounds that we carry inside us, the wounds so secret that we ourselves are barely aware of them, and to patiently explore them, know them, illuminate them, to own these pains and wounds, and to make them a conscious part of our spirits and our writing.

I am asked- why do you write? I write because I have an innate need to write! I write because I can't do normal work like other people. I write because I want to read books like the ones I write. I write because I am angry at all of you, angry at everyone. I write because I love sitting in a room all day writing. I write because I can only partake in real life by changing it. I write because I want others, all of us, the whole world, to know what sort of life we lived, and continue to live, in Istanbul, in Turkey. I write because I love the smell of paper, pen, and ink. I write because I believe in literature, in the art of the novel, more than I believe in anything else. I write because it is a habit, a passion. I write because I am afraid of being forgotten. I write because I like the glory and interest that writing brings. I write to be alone. Perhaps I write because I hope to understand why I am so very, very angry at all of you, so very, very angry at everyone. I write because I like to be read. I write because once I have begun a novel, an essay, a page, I want to finish it. I write because everyone expects me to write. I write because I have a childish belief in the immortality of libraries, and in the way my books sit on the shelf. I write because it is exciting to turn all of life's beauties and riches into words. I write not to tell a story, but to compose a story. I write because I wish to escape from the foreboding that there is a place I must go but – just as in a dream – I can't quite get there. I write because I have never managed to be happy. I write to be happy.

John Maeda

John Maeda is a Prof at MIT. He teaches design.

Here's his blog: http://weblogs.media.mit.edu/SIMPLICITY/

During my stint at Harvard, I was keen to attend his courses.

Somehow, it never happened.

His blog is interesting and a must read.

3 boys and a bicycle

I was waiting to pick up Ira from school.

They had one bicycle between them. Each one of them wanted to ride it. They tried to fit in together on the bike, but found it impossible to move.

So the two sat while the third ran after them pleading for his chance to sit.

It barely lasted for a few minutes, but took me back by a few years...30 years!!!

A/C v/s non-A/C

I saw him at a signal on Linking Road. It was a hot and humid day. He was sweating and driving a truck. He kept peeping into the black Toyoto Innova next to him. What was he thinking?

I saw him and felt guilty of my own A/C Ford Fiesta. I asked my driver to switch off the a/c for a few minutes. It felt like hell.

Saala...just a few years back (1995, to be precise), I was travelling in local trains and BEST buses. As a Management Trainee, I used to come to office drenched in my own sweat. One day an NRI girl in my office, who I used to closely work with, suggested that I wear a perfume to work.

I remember how I, standing on the BEST bus footboard, used to peep into the plush a/c cars (mostly zens and esteems) and feel the urge to just get into them. I could feel that frustration once again, when I saw that guy peep into the Innova.

Thanks man. I wish and pray to god to make all trucks a/c as soon as possible.