Under my Own sky

Hardly do you hear such a pert description of life in San Francisco …

Halloween in San Francisco is a redundant festival.
— Robbin Williams on Tonight Show with Jay Leno

Turning 30 has made me realize how fast life is moving towards mid-life. Losing the 20-something tag shows already on my body but not yet on the mind. From this August, I have noticed that I no longer need to strictly show my ID while buying beer. I was quick to attribute it to my maturity and the smile that flaunts my face after the first drink. But a casual introspection quickly turned the initial happiness into an sadness about the state of affairs that my facade is portraying to young cashiers at Trader’s Joe and to eccentric barmen all over the city. And to top it all my 20-something girlfriend recently commented that I better shape up before visiting her for holidays lest her 20-something friends think that she is dating a 30-something sugar daddy. Ah, it doesn’t get worse than that just months after your 2010 birth day.

I have had the gym membership for years but only recently I have become serious to visit it at least once a week (once-a-week? I know, it sounds like a joke). I have also decided to eat better – salads in lunch, stir-fry-vegetables for dinner, self-squeezed juices, fruits, nuts, and my occasional healthy Indian cooking. I have also turned nearly a vegetarian except for the rare chicken I still get killed for my gustatory satisfaction. And when I cannot help being on the couch I watch all the comedies and the hopelessly romantic Bollywood escapist shit to keep me jovial.

[Me]: (eating my strawberries and walnuts in office)
[Him]: Fruits! Man, you are taking care of yourself.
[Me]: Yeah. Am single and just turned 30; there aren’t bigger challenges to a guys personal life than those.
[Him]: Hmmm. I understand dude. I sail the same boat. But I thought you have a girlfriend, don’t you?
[Me]: Yes I have. But a girlfriend who lives half way around the world, and that too in Europe, is like Riverbed stock, which makes me rich but its all on paper until I cash-them-out.
[Him]: Haha. You have a weird way of looking at things.
[Me]: I hear you saying that I have a good sense of humor.
[Him]: Yeah, that’s what I somewhat mean.
[Me]: Good enough for me. So you wanna taste some?
[Him]: Thanks dude, but my mind needs a Cappuccino and my body needs some sunlight.
[Me]: Enjoy!

United States of America is the richest country in the world. It is undoubtedly the most technically advanced too. It provides more choices in everything – from cuisines to cultures, from careers to job opportunities, from food to drinks, from cars to even ordinary stuff like toilet paper. Still, this mecca of consumerism hasn’t been disappointing to me in the taste of food. I do not want everything all year round but I want everything to taste good all the time. Growing up in small town India I did not have the luxury of choice or plenty but fruits always tasted naturally sweet and vegetables were fresh, pure and never frozen. Every time I buy a box of organic strawberries, which proudly flaunts its California origins, I wish that it impresses me this time. But where is the real taste to be found?

Interesting thought about eradicating poverty. I guess this implies that poverty can be eradicated within the bounds of capitalism, without having to rely on purely socialistic ideals.

If you want to eradicate poverty, you don’t do it by redistribution of existing wealth. You have to create more wealth. — Narayana Murthy

There will always be a rich and poor divide. But that does not necessarily mean that the poor are living in poverty. Poverty ends when a country can provide opportunities to everyone to allow them to earn a livelihood capable of supporting the basic human needs and maintaining a minimum standard of living. For a country as populous as India, providing (let alone guarantee) opportunities to everyone is a monumental task further complicated due to the lack of resources, effective governance and vision. This opportunity is difficult to guarantee in a country as populous as India.

Three girls in the common room discussing among themselves, as I happened to pass by. I found the quote very intriguing.

Memories are trapped in spaces.

Ironically, I found this very motivating to return to India.

Interviewer: Going back to 1981, how difficult was it to start a new business under the Permit Raj?
Narayana Murthy: It used to take us about 12 to 24 months and about 50 visits to Delhi to import a computer worth $1,500.
Read it here