Are you an Alcoholic ??!!

The 1st time I was seriously asked if I was an Alcoholic was at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in Chiang Mai, then held in a large colonial-styled bungalow not far from the McCormick Hospital, which I also later learned was a hotbed of ex-pat politics.

I was dragged there by a friend who religiously attended their meets, and partly by my curiosity. What I didn't know was that it was expected from everyone to introduce themselves and say that they are Alcoholics and next whether they are still partaking or proudly declare that they haven't touched the devil's brew for "n" number of years. So when it was my turn to introduce myself, I only stated my name and country, as I didn't consider myself either then or now to be an alcohol abuser.

Immediately a stout bald gentleman in a Pink Hawaiian shirt, a thick gold chain and a young Thai girl on his side, with the demeanour of an ex-US Special Forces guy (but might have been a retired Xerox salesman for all I know), sharply asked me "Sir, aren't you an alcoholic??" I replied with a grin, "not yet, I just indulge occasionally!!" 

I regretted it immediately, seeing the expressionless faces looking back at me, realising that humour has no place in AA. 

The meeting was a long-drawn narration by each of the participants about their struggle with booze and how it ruined their lives. Most of them also claimed that they haven't touched it in decades if not more, which made me think of them as pretenders and posers in search of a place to belong and flaunt their feathers as most of them did appear to be well-heeled.

The only two Thai faces were the Xerox-Special Forces guy's girlfriend who was busy with her mobile phone and a hapless Tuk-Tuk driver who was snared in by Crazy Maggie. A middle-aged Jewish New Yorker, a former number cruncher turned holistic healer with a penchant of shocking all around with the crudest sex-talk. The tedium ended with tea, biscuits and exchanging phone numbers.

I couldn't wait to run back and open a chilled Singha; I badly needed a drink.

The 2nd time, and something tells me it isn't the last, was during my house hunting spree in Delhi, a city where tenants are strictly divided into familial and single persons with a gigantic self-righteous moralistic wall. Where even a married man living apart from his family or in my case a widower, are all considered Bachelors and who are all collectively branded as debauched whoremongers, drunkards and people who don't pay the rent on time. 

Your dietary habits are scrutinized to determine whether you are a real vegetarian or not, along with extensive interrogations about your job and earnings. Where telephones numbers of property rental ads are picked up by sullen and suspicious Bhabis (Brother's wife- a universal nomenclature for married women in north India) who first demand to know how you got her number, least her frail Indian woman's modesty is outraged. When while scrutinizing my moral antecedents and without blinking an eye(so I assume, as it was on the phone) one of the prospective landlords asked me sharply... 

Aap Alcoholic Hai kya?? (Are you an Alcoholic??)

When I retorted somewhat sternly asking what did he mean, he toned down and somewhat mildly replied that he wanted to know whether I consume alcohol, as tipplers are not welcome  to rent his apartment. But very soon I ran across another ad which clearly said "For vegetarian and Non-Alcoholic families only!!"

The Have-Nots & the Cowards

I was still too groggy in the morning to notice that his breath reeked of stale booze when he stopped me outside a store where I just purchase milk and showing me his calloused dirty hands said that he was an out of job mechanic and if could I help him buy some rations as he has two small daughters to feed. Frankly, I didn't like him at all, but his plea about having kids to feed struck a cord. The dislike only deepened when sensing my positive disposition he quickly added a list of stuff: flour, tea, sugar and rice. 

"Whoa, I am not getting you your  shopping list" I told him and just asked told the store clerk to give him a kilo of flour on my account. "What, you can't even buy me 5 kilos" he retorted angrily and bitterly, to which he received a string of expletives(my first in the day) and was left standing empty-handed. It was obvious that in his eyes I was a fat selfish  Bourgeoisie unwilling to help a desperate man, whereas  I saw an entitled ungrateful asshole who probably got kicked out of his job for slacking and drinking.

Later, narrating this incident to a friend, I observed that such bitter, entitled "have-nots" had always been the target audience and later foot soldiers of the communists, just like the ambitious yet cowardly, always cheer for the Fascists: The flag wavers and the shrill online warriors, not to forget those posting images of their wannabe or full-fledged Dictator or Supreme Leader daily on social-media pages and WhatsApp statuses hoping that someone would notice their dedication and reward them with a position, which they as cowardly bullies would later exploit to the hilt. 

But as they say, hope dies last, both for the bitter jobless mechanic or for the meek bigoted nationalistic accountant or programmer. 

Innovating in India

 Rajiv Bajaj, the Big Boss of Bajaj Auto once remarked that innovating in India is equivalent to "MAD IN INDIA." He couldn’t have been more right. 

In the last few months of building the prototypes of our shallow water boat motors, we are stumbling against every single obstacle possible; both those envisaged and others we couldn’t even imagine. 

The 3d scans all came with skewed geometry, necessitating manual remeasurement and rectification. Every bearing housing was either too tight or loose, the same with the shafts. Most aluminium casting shops refused right away to make sample pieces and the one that finally took the job neither sieved the sand nor removed the dross, resulting in pockmarked casts with black spots, but blamed our 3d-printed patterns for their bad quality casts. 

While trying to get the gears made, one irritated Sardarji remarked that they don't have time to make one-off pieces (that's just normal spur gears), besides he couldn't guarantee the required precision.  So I asked him what kind of gears do they make to which he gruffly replied "for Lathe machines". Which partially explained why all our machined parts were slightly off. Another gear cutting workshop owner after promising to build us two samples, did a complete about-turn after I gave him a sample to replicate, claiming that he needs a minimum order of 50 units at a cost 4 times higher than if imported from China. 

Virtually everyone had to be cajoled into doing their jobs because they all claimed that they are only interested in large production orders. Thus, the clutch is yet to arrive after two months of ordering and making full payment and the same is with several other parts. And the most insulting part is being universally regarded as a rich nut-case with money to burn on a frivolous project or alternately a  poor time-waster. So much for  #atmanirbharta #india #innovations

Ode to the Ego

 

Never Surrender the "I"

 

The Corporate Alladin's Lamp

From a hardcore caffeine junkie to milk-tea (Chai) drinker, the transition has been as much due to developing gastric symptoms due to half a dozen espressos daily as much as due to the innumerable Corporate Panhandling and Freeloading attempts I had to endure at their expense of 1 cup of coffee(usually a lousy machine made one with the cheapest beans), their wish list encompassing all that is mentioned below for everything from Tyres to Batteries, Industrial Chemicals, Refinery Equipment, Military Grade tech, Amphibious vessels and what not…

So the resolutions for 2021 are: No personal meetings (only Zoom or Skype calls for the preliminary interaction where I first specify my charges and terms or work before starting the conversation) and yes... No Coffee!!
 

Bad "Servile" Blood

Last night, I finished reading the not so incredulous story of the Biomedical startup and biggest corporate scam of this century the - Theranos saga in "Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup" by John Carreyrou. 

Though quite engaging, I can’t  say I am very impressed by his style of delivery which at times is more suitable for House and Garden magazine or a woman centric publication with a penchant for describing dresses and mascara. But, on the whole it was a tenacious labour of uncovering the truth behind a corporate scam shielded by powerful men,  weaponized legal intimidation and absolutely unscrupulous promoters. 

A story of how a young blond blue-eyed woman from a privileged background, a Stanford dropout with a fake voice having all the hallmarks of a psychopath and her unlikely partner, a Bombay born, bullying, boastful, uncouth and unscrupulous Sindhi rouge who earlier made it big in the US by a fluke, peddled a non-existing technology and successfully raised hundred of million dollars from VCs. 

With the initial team of experts and technologists leaving or fired by the psychopathic duo, later the venture relied on a small army of scared, servile and sycophantic  Indian minions afraid of losing their jobs and visas. There were also a  couple of lying Chinese, and the company was backed by powerful white and Jewish old men ready to sacrifice their grandchildren to Moloch for their seat on the board in exchange for stock and by the highest echelons of the Democrat party right from the Clintons to Biden and the Obamas. 

So when the shit finally hit the ceiling, VCs learned that they invested in an elaborate scam and lost their money, almost a million people jeopardized their lives with inaccurate tests, the female Steve Jobs wannabe remained unrepentant and is trying to play the role of a victim and the only beneficiaries of this Unicorn to Dinosaur story as usual are the American lawyers.

All too familiar elements for me, fake accents,to  bogus antecedents and reports, political corruption, legal intimidation, old coots gaga for a smart confident young woman, greed, caprice,  tyranny and as an Indian the most familiar of them all : Bullying Indian business owners treating employees and  hired consultants like servants.

Considering people's propensity for listening to and believing in fables, especially those promising them heap loads of money, I have thus started reading "Bullshit & Philosophy" by Gary S. Hardcastle.