Scorching the path of Scorsese?

Context: A few years ago I posted a couple of 'how to play xyz song on guitar' videos. Kannada language songs are under represented, and most tutorials just have wrong chords/notes.
Being kids of the tablet age, Avaneesh and his buddies used to spend a lot of time giggling at Annoying Orange videos, 'unpacking toy X' videos, and even 'teenagers waging Nerf wars' videos on Youtube. Given that every home with a kid is a theater now, no surprise, they have millions of views. Soon, we humans will hand out iPads to monkeys, and be surprised at the videos that hit a billion views. So, he and his buddies set out to make videos that would make them the next millionaires. They spent a couple of months saying stupid things to each other and uploading, but nobody watched. I had to listen to "Your video has 6,000 views, but our video has only 36 views!" kind of complaints.

Forward to two days back: He announced that he was appreciated in school for his acting skills. He said he even got a few 'Nice job, bro' high-fives from random boys in school. Ours is not exactly a thespian bloodline, although his mother does get pretty dramatic at times. Raised eyebrows and a look at his mom was what he got from me, for example.

Cut to the present: It's 6pm on a sunday, and I'm driving him to his classmate's place. A 'make a film' assignment from school, some clever maneuvering by the aforementioned thespian and I'm here donning a chauffeur's hat. A Nerf rifle butt jutting out of his backpack shoots the theme out aloud, but I ask about it anyway.
"A robbery" he says, " we're enacting a robbery of a gem"
"A guard working at a museum accidentally carries home a gem, and throw it into a vase without realizing its worth"
"This is your story?" I ask
"Yes," he says " ..my story. The guard has a roommate who's a cop. That makes robbing them a challenge for the robbers"
"How do the robbers know these guards have this..gem?" I ask.
"That's not important. We can assume the robbers have observed & listened to them.. like all those TV episodes with lots of gadgets.. "
I have more follow up questions, but I hold back. The film's due tomorrow anyway, and it's 6 pm. I take a different tack "So, you've written the script, and people know what to say?"
"No" he says to my surprise, " I've figured out that it doesn't work well"
He sees that I'm looking for more, and explains.
"All those videos we were making a while back, we had a script. But nobody would be able to act it out well or remember it. So the videos were all bad and we got no views. One day, I had an idea and I asked the others to not go by script. I asked them to know their theme, and just speak whatever comes to mind. That video was much better, and we got our highest views!"
"Really? How much ?" I ask while my mind wanders to reading about how Scorsese would make his actors do similar things.
He blushed a bit, smiled and said "96 views".
The dim light helps cover my expression. He continued " But that's way more than our other videos!"
I too recover quickly  " No.. that's really good. That's a pretty good idea!"
Fortunately, he has other logistics worrying him. For eg, his bright orange-blue Nerf rifle doesn't look 'realistic enough'.
"Why don't you make this a comedy?" I suggest. I even add a couple of jokes. These jokes tend to flow when the mom isn't around - she's ever ready with groans that women in delivery rooms can't muster.
He gives me a polite chuckle, but he's too emotionally attached to his story make it a parody.
So I ask, "What happens with your robbery?" .
He relates the plot - He & his robber gang gain access to the house through the terrace, and try stealing the gem. But the residents end up waking up. There's a shootout, he and his fellow robber die, and the remaining one is arrested. (I bet he wanted to enact the 'getting shot and dying' scene. )

Again, a lot of 'but' sentences come to my tongue, but I swallow them all like gulab jamoons I so love. We arrive at the destination, and out comes his fellow conspirator - looking like a robber so screen has ever seen before.
I gulp a couple more of those hypothetical gulab jamoons, and head back with a 'good luck!' wave.
No wonder I can't lose weight.

Unfulfilled potential ?

We'd just climbed up a steep hill to see the Dubdi monastery in Yuksom, Sikkim. This is the oldest monastery setup in AD 1640. It was cold & foggy at 8 in the morning - gushing about the exciting climb. About 10 kids and 12 adults - dragons puffing at the monastery door.

The externals - still under reconstruction after the 2011 earthquake - were not exactly camera friendly. As we untied our shoelaces for a look inside, a worker came out and said "You can take photos here, but no photos inside the monastery, please"

I actually think that's a good idea - besides the archaeological reasons of not messing up the paint pigments. In those forced moments of inaction, you are forced to experience the present instead of squinting in the viewfinder to gather a few FaceBook 'Like's. How do you capture the fog, the smells, the sounds of the birds and the howl of the raucous monkeys we call kids?
In this case, the monkeys already needed some controlling - they were setting up to tip water bowls and start a 'gong-banging' session.

Sunil - the quintessential manager - gathered them around and started with his typical left hand gestures. He gave them a small lecture about being silent, and praying to the Buddha. Either the kids asked, or he couldn't help himself .. but he also added : "While praying, don't ask for a hundred thousand dollars - but ask for the abilities so you can earn the hundred thousand dollars on your own"
So, the kids started chiming in " yes.. you should ask to be smart, to get educated ... " even as he was finishing up his little speech.

I'd moved up to the area near the Buddha. I was looking at the clean water bowls, the myriad patterns in which notes of various colorful currencies had been folded/rolled up as offerings. Conveniently for me, a few oil lamps were lit, and they helped to warm my palms.
Nishu noticed that and came up to me. "So, are you asking for the ability to earn a hundred thousand dollars?", he asked.
Our repeated refusals to buy toys as 'expensive' were probably the source of those comments. I realized it, but I still felt like responding.
"I already have the talent to earn a hundred thousand dollars", I replied with a half-superior smile.

He steps closer to me, his voice drops slightly " So, you're just not using that ability, then ? "

A Father's day present ?

So, I brought down Nischal and his buddy Anant, and they started playing tennis. The game was more like one hits, and the other fetches. Neither cared if the ball was reaching the other. I couldn't complain - I see 40 year olds playing like this everyday. All I could do was, say "don't scrape the tennis racket on the ground!" repeatedly.

That's when Nishu called.
"Papa can I stay and play at Amit's place?"
It's 4:30 in the afternoon. I had sent him down, but a brief 5 min rain had given them the excuse to hole up inside with their legos.
"No," I say " .. it's evening time, and I want you outside -playing something outdoor"

"But nobody will be with me" he complains " all my friends are going to be here.. at Amit's place"
Talk about a geek warren.
"You come down here.. and I'll play catch with you " I offer.
He groans audibly, but he agrees.

Soon he comes by with a frown on his face, and throws me a tennis ball.
We start. I keep trying to correct his palms which bugs him a good deal.
"I can't fix everything in just one day!" he says. I'm tempted to point out that I've been trying to teach this since he was 4.

Meanwhile, Nischal and Anant are done with tennis, and want to go to the sandpit. So, we shift our catch practice venue - Anant's grandpa had made a brief appearance and had now vanished.
Now I'm throwing Nishu catches that land near his feet, and am trying to force him to bend his knees. I hear a lot of complaints about it. To make things more fun(for me atleast), just as he starts anticipating it, I throw a few catches over his head.

Amit's mom walked by while we were on this fun(?) exercise. She greeted me, and said "Hi! Happy Father's day!"  .
"Oh really?! thanks!! " I say. Father's day isn't really a thing at our house. Mother's day is mentioned a bit- only the years we remember. And I'd not checked facebook yet.
"Did you wish your father?" she asked him. He shook his head with an embarrassed smile. Soon as she continued, he came and hugged me. "Happy Father's day, Papa! "
"Thanks, man ! " I say. And he's back to his position.
He continues to smile at me in the same embarrassed fashion .. and we have a few more throws. Now he's tearing up as he's catching and throwing.
It just needed me to ask "what happened?" for him to break down, come over and hug me.
I'm surprised and also am aware of the other parents at the sandpit watching us. This was decidedly more interesting than one more push on the swing.
"Sorry.." he continues " .. I didn't know today was Father's Day .. and didn't even buy you anything .."

I wanted to say "You just bought me a BIG one, son.." .. but just hugged him,  while continuing to be aware of all the parents watching the show. :)

A Halloween conversation

Bangalore has been beset by November rains. For those who are non-Indians - that is a big deal in India. We normally don't get rains after the monsoons.
 Bangalore is a little unique because cyclones in the bay of bengal that hit Chennai or the Andhra Pradesh coast, come over to say 'yennaDa' or 'yemunDi' respectively.
Besides, I just hurt my wrists with a bad fall playing tennis on a wet surface. So one wrist is swollen, the other is severely limited in it's turning radius. So, I had to get dropped to my office by wifey. Office is a little over a kilometer from home.. so it's not a big deal to walk.

Evening comes but the wife is out at the gym. I could walk home if the rain lets up.
However, I have to walk past a slum, and rain on poop results in an olfactory overload I'm not exactly looking forward to.
I would also have an interesting time slinging my two bags in such a way that my wrists wouldn't be needed to stabilize them on the walk back home.

 Then comes the phone call.
 "Papa.." says my 9 year old as only he can say it.
 "Yes.. " I wait for the inevitable reminder about going to the toy store to pick up another Nerf gun.
And I wait to again remind him that papa can't drive right now.
I also am ready to bring up papa's current priority - the overdue ortho visit to check if there's a fracture lurking beneath the swollen wrist.

"Papa.." he starts again " .. today we're going to celebrate Halloween."
"We are? " I ask - a little confused and distracted. Drivers outside are loudly honking their protests against the rain gods peeing on them all day.
"Yes. I've told my friends we'll celebrate halloween, and I've called them home here. We'll go trick or treating and collect some loot"
I can almost see that half-smile at using the word 'loot' in this context.
He continues " So, I want you to get me some toilet paper "
My honk addled brain starts getting visions of toilet papered apartment doors or even cars in the parking lot.
He thankfully explains - "It's for my halloween costume. I will use it to become a mummy. An Egyptian mummy".
"Cool! Nice Idea!" I exclaim, at the same time realizing walking was unavoidable.
"I'll stop by at a store on the way back. I'll head out by 6 unless your amma picks me up earlier."

Soon, I find a pocket of time where the rain dwindled to a drizzle and started hoofing it back. My residual cold is a boon in disguise as I walk past the slum. It's a small detour to the store, but I go anyway grimacing against the steadily increasing rain.

As I walk to the checkout counter with the toilet paper, my phone rings again.
"Papa! You know I'll be a mummy, no? For that, I'll also need a full-white T-shirt and white gloves too. Can you get those also?"
In India - unless you walk into a big mall, the stores where you buy toilet paper don't really carry T-shirts or gloves.
"They don't have that stuff here, Nishu. And I can't really walk to a clothes store now.. I'll just get these" I said.
He agrees reluctantly.

It takes us more than 20 minutes to wrap him up with enough toilet paper and tape to make a convincing mummy. His red tshirt underneath doesn't make the job easier.
His brother has been in character for the past 2 months. He's been wearing his older brother's 5 year old batman costume every day for the past 2 months. To top that, my friend Shubha got him a batman mask just the day before to complete the act.

I am glad when they finally go out trick or treating. But the toilet paper mummy doesn't last too long. Eventually he just paints some long teeth and goes back out as a vampire.

As for his brother, everybody just said 'hi Nischal'. Mantri Elegance Apartments has had just one batman stalking it's premises for the past 2 months.

There's a lesson here..

I was driving Avaneesh back from his tennis classes. On account of the previous night's downpour,  the court was too wet for tennis. So, they just had exercises and played soccer.
He was playing 'Temple Run' while I was driving. On the Galaxy S III, the game is a little faster than on the iPad or the Galaxy S. So, he was having some trouble playing it.

Saturday morning traffic was reasonably light and I was also driving at a good clip.
In came his first request(?) - "Papa, can you drive in first gear & second gear only? You're messing up my game"
"Sorry man, I can't do that" I replied.
And hence continued the oohs, 'oww's and grumbles as he missed a swipe at each roadbump or turn.

Apart from that, I was now behind a bike that could do just fine with a couple of lesser cylinders - for Bangalore roads. The rider was a studious looking, tortoise shell glasses wearing guy puttering on slowly, taking up the center of the road, and not noticing the empty road ahead of him. It took some skilful driving before I maneuvered my 800 cc Maruti around him, and gave him a maybe-you-should-get-a-tricycle look. The man either didn't notice, or didn't care.
Avaneesh's grumbling meanwhile - having lost more games - had gotten real loud.
So, with his latest 'look what you did!!' coupled with him showing the phone to my face, I just took away the phone.
There was a 30 second silence observed to honor the explorer that he'd let die for the umpteenth time - courtesy his dad.

It also gave me some time to think about what moral I could impart to this sullen monkey.
So I came out with my first jewel.
"You can't do a dance rehearsal on an iceberg"
No response. Maybe it just ricocheted off.
" I said,  'you can't dance on an iceberg'  "   I said.
"What ?" he said and looked around quickly  "where is the iceberg?"
I took a deep breath, and asked him to listen for more than a microsecond. And repeated my line.
"Yea..   so ? "  was the response.
I held back repeating it - it was time to retire that jewel back to the Nile. I fished out a new one.
"You can't play soccer in a battlefield"  I said. I was really getting into this whole pull-out-a-new-proverb-every-second thing. Give me an accent, and I could be a Nat ya nanda.
"You can, if there's nobody there", he said.
"Um..er.. obviously I mean when a battle is going on" I stumbled.
As he started a search in his head about what other battlefield conditions you could play soccer, I decided to try a more direct approach.
"What I was trying to say was, there's a time & place for everything. There's no point you playing this game on the phone while the car is bumping around like this"
And I noticed in the rear view mirror - the puttering mega-biker was almost behind me. I suppose in this traffic .. a few meters gained are also very quickly lost at the next mini-jam you get stuck in.
As I marveled at the tortoise that almost won the race, Avaneesh asked "So, I guess I could play angry birds instead"
As I was about to set forth on the 'there is a time & place for everything' moral, an old man jumped into the road from the median on the right. Apparently he'd decided that lawsuit returns were more important than his remaining days. Or maybe he'd somehow heard my aforementioned proverbs. Sadly for him - I noticed just in time, swerved and  honked.
That did not discourage the brave man even a little bit. He did a small jump back (almost after I'd passed him) and again jumped forward ... into tortoise shell's way. The buddha on the large bike was naturally slow enough to comfortably stop. Two wheelers/rickshaws on his trail also screeched to a halt. The buddha waved the old man across with a comfortable smile. I could see a youtube video titled 'how to scare the heck out of drivers' in the grinning old man's eyes.
There was one extra angry bird in our car as I accelerated onward.

Atleast.. the tortoise hadn't won the race. Or had he?

To Bose or not to Bose

Avaneesh had to write an essay & talk about a hero of his.

So he came home saying he'll write about Gandhiji.
"There will be a 100 'Gandhiji is my hero' essays out there", said his mom.  Subhas Chandra Bose became the hero candidate. Then started the lecturing about Subhas Chandra Bose - after a quick study on Wikipedia by the parents.

The parents soon discovered that a 5 min overview that didn't include a lot of bombs/guns was pretty insufficient to make a person a 'hero' in a kid's eyes.

• "because he got admission into a good college?"
• "because he got 2nd rank in the good college?"
• "Is Cambridge a good college? " 
• "Where is Cambridge?" 
  
• "because he was the Mayor of Kolkata?" 
• "So.. he fought against the British?" 

That ended the 'let him figure out why Bose was a hero' plan, and started the 'here are 10 things to say- write them down' plan.
Finally, on D-Day arrived (er.. next morning, actually). Mom fired off some questions early morning - both waking him up from his morning stupor, and warming him up. And off went the little guy to the battlefield.


Evening, he's busy trying to make Mario catch the rabbits on the Wii.. and mom finds it the right moment to ask about it. Dad - who'd just demoed his son on how to catch the rabbits - also was a little miffed at the interruption. But he did put on his ' I'm interested' look.
"Did anybody else talk about Subhas Chandra Bose? "


"Oh yes.. four of them"


"So.. did the teacher like what you said? "


"Yes.. she said 'good' when I spoke about Subhash Chandra Bose"


"That's nice!"


"But she said 'very good' for somebody else that talked about him. So, maybe mine wasn't the best"


Two weeks later:

Now its time for the dreaded PTM ( Parent-Teachers Meeting). And we sit in front of the English teacher after having spent half an hour in line. Time well spent by the dad playing 'Temple Run' .
Dad hesitatingly opens "I'm the father of Avaneesh .. 4 D .."
"Oh yes!" the teacher smiles " Avaneesh .. he's a smart boy.. "
Dad relaxes a little
"I'm guessing he's a big fan of Subhas Chandra Bose? "
Now Dad has a confused look
"He knew so much about him.. and the poor kids that had chosen to speak about Bose: He kept correcting them whenever they made the slightest mistake about Bose!"

We're a lot alike..

Nishu has this problem where every day he's looking for his things.

Getting ready for school at 6:30 in the morning, he started looking for something.
Having taken 30 years and partially conquered this aspect partially (I don't look for my keys or my wallet anymore), I felt the need to give some fatherly advice.
Since outright telling "Keep your things at the same place"  hadn't worked, I thought a story of sorts would help.

As we were leaving for his school bus, I preambled...
"You know.. we both are a lot alike ...  and so we both have similar problems... "

He cut me short.
"You mean we both are fat?"

I didn't have much to say for the rest of the walk.