Rules of Communication – redefined?
Health Passport – Can it check STDs and STIs ?
OTT – One Time Transaction
“Umm Hi, does the train to North Hollywood come on this platform?”, I asked after scanning the woman for two minutes and felt that she might be worth beginning a friendship with.
“Yes, the next train goes there.”, she said without knowing that I had been taking that train every day for a month now. But then I did not find any hook in her to hook on to. There was nothing special in what she was wearing that I could begin talking about. She wasn’t reading any book I could begin conversation about. So I had to begin with the lamest one. I use different ways to open the channel. In some languages these are called ‘pick up lines’. But romantic inclinations are not the only ones I have when I do this. When I can’t think of any, I use the simplest one – “Hi, My name is Rajeev.” Many people in many bars in many cities might have met me saying that. Some people are willing to talk further, some aren’t.
We started talking. I liked the fact that she was doing web analytics and her undergrad major was Mathematics. She needed to get down on the next station.
“How do I get in touch with you again? You got some email id or something”, I asked frantically as the train screeched into the station. Always better to ask email id than mobile number. You enter way too much into the life of someone by accessing mobile number, especially in the big modern cities, where people are highly conscious about their personal lives. Email id is far less innocuous and you are seen much less aggressive. But now, there was not much time left even for the exchange of email id.
“I am sorry, I need to change my train at this station. Can you step out quickly and note my email?”
I was torn. If I exit this train, the next train does not come for another 10 minutes. If I don’t, I may never see her again. It was Sophie’s choice! Trains come and go. But good friends in a new city are hard to find.
“Sure!”
I noted her email id and saw the woman and the train moving in opposite directions leaving me alone on the station. I did not wait to reach my work to email her. As soon as I got out of the metro station, I started receiving signal reception on phone and I wrote a quick email to her. We met the same evening after the work. I really enjoyed her company. She wasn’t bimbo, she was a thinker.
A WEEK EARLIER, SAME STATION, ALMOST SAME TIME
A young man wearing skinny jeans (like most guys in LA), was holding sneakers in the hands, while he waited for the train. I got my hook –curiosity about why he was not wearing those sneakers.
“Are you going to work with those sneakers in your hands?”
“How can I go to work like this, even my hair is not done! I am going to gym.”
“But why don’t you wear those sneakers instead of keeping them in your hands? ”
“Oh I am just returning from work, I had a night shift. So I will go to gym and change into running clothes”
We broke into conversation. This person also needed to change trains at next station, so we quickly exchanged emails. I met him two days later. He was little aloof but had interesting world view.
OTT – Defined
I met many men and women in this city – at train stations, inside the metro’s, in coffee houses at restaurants. Invariably, I would be the one to make first attempt to go up to them and say Hello. I would exchange contact information because first interaction would be quite impressive and I would be curious to know more about them. Afterwards, I would be the first one to touch base via email or text. When we would meet for first proper meeting, I would really enjoy their company and they would too, no wonder they would offer their email or phone number in the first place and would actually meet for an hour or more afterwards. But I hardly get to see them again. In spite of the fact that we have great time exchanging thoughts, the meeting became ONE TIME TRANSACTION. They all told that they looked forward to see me again. I am very sure they meant that. They were all well-meaning people. But after first coffee or dinner or walk, they would not be the ones to text or email or call another time to say, “Hey you wanna hang out again?”. Again, I would be the one to first do that and would get warm declining replies of types –
“Just got home from work. Lounging for a bit, then hangin with my cousin. Wish you had texted me earlier! I totally would have come by after work.”
“Yeah on phone with my brother”
“Walking home, looking to purchase drinking water.”
“Just leaving work. I’m having people over for drinks this evening then going to a gallery where I have some art showing, if you want to join.”
“Yo Rajeev, I’m going to the Cumbia thing at music center plaza in a little bit. Come check it out. 🙂 might go to a party later. Might just chill. What are you up to? “
“Hey. I’m gonna meet with my cousin and nephews. They came from Mexico”
“Here working and you?”
“Sorry my friend I won’t be home this evening. Monday?”
“Cleaning my house, what about you?”
All of the above are the replies of friends I reached out on the past Friday evening – a social experiment I often do on Friday evenings. I spent an hour texting all people I could think of in downtown LA. I understand that all of the above were real genuine reasons for us not being able to meet that evening. Moreover, with busy and conflicting schedules, prior appointments in Outlook Calendars are perhaps more practical.
As I reflect on the past month I spent in LA or the past year I spent in USA, I am filled with questions. Why in the past one year, very rarely or probably never someone came up to me and said HI? Could it be my appearances or my Indian color? But then, after the first effort from my side, things would go very smoothly. So it should be safe to assume that they liked me. Still I feel exhausted of chasing people in 360 degrees. I don’t even know what it feels like to be chased. As I dig deep, I realize that I am new – to the city and to the country. And I am the one who is alone. These wonderful people already had families, friends, career and jobs before they crossed my path. So in the universe of each of them, I am nothing but an asteroid. But in my solar system, if I am the sun, these people are important planets of mine. It is my issue that I they occupy a big share of my mind and I don’t in their minds.
Another explanation, at least for Los Angeles, is that this city is full of struggling artists. So most people who I meet are working many jobs to pay their bills and fees for their head shots or acting classes or other recipes for the success with their art. But then I am doing two internships. Back in Indiana, I go through a very demanding academic program so I am not any less busy. Yet, when it comes to different obligations competing for my priority, meeting people seems to cut the line and show up at the front of the queue. Should that mean I am less focused on career? I don’t know. May be. In that case these other one time friends might be considered much more ambitious and career driven?
How people make new friends or get new dates and continue to hold on to them is still a mystery to me. I live on a very hip Street of Downtown LA. The Spring street. Every time I look out of the window of my 8th floor apartment, I see people – in pairs and in groups walking on streets, sharing jokes, holding hands, kicking each other. When I walk around in the neighborhood, I see people smoking, drinking and eating on the patios of bars and restaurants. These people-watch experiences raise the same questions in my mind – how these people might have met and how they hang out together time and again. But who knows, they are also having their OTTs – One Time Transactions.
So many onlookers might have felt the same when I had my OTT with people.
Often people say that their favorite past time is ‘hanging out with friends’. Or people ask, ‘who do you hang out with?’. I think the new mantra is, “Oh with myself!” . Hanging out with oneself lowers expectations. One becomes fan of his own company. If today I had not decided to enjoy my own company, I possibly could not have written out this post. As I sign off, I accept the new reality that people are super mobile and busy. In the modern times, texting is much more preferred that vocal communication between humans. As a first step to this acceptance after waiting for another hour of that social experiment and finding no positive reply, I decide to run – my favorite hanging out activity. When I run, I feel the entire city is with me.
PS: It was a co-incidence that someone shared this article around the same time when I was writing this piece – http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/15/fashion/the-challenge-of-making-friends-as-an-adult.html?pagewanted=2&_r=2
LA DIARIES – Prologue
The need to share, a very basic need. The first inventor of social media probably foresaw this need very earlier. When an incident happens in my life, that is amusing, or that makes me stop and think or that throws a big surprise for me, I get an intense desire to share. Generally through one-one communication. Individually with few people, even if the content of communication is broadly the same. At other times, I would email, suitably customizing the content for each individual audience. Off late, I realized that the process is quite exhausting. Moreover, phone communication with people takes out the exuberance exponentially with every new call if the conversation is about the same subject – like how I like my new work or how lovely is my new apartment. And I am a man of words, so sharing with sea of humanity in few words is generally not my thing, forget about 140 characters of twitter!
Since I started this journey into this City of Angels – LA, I wrote to couple of people, spoke with another bunch of friends about the surprisingly wonderful apartment I secured in the heart of city, city events I attended. But I found myself not enjoying those conversation after a while. For each audience, it was new, but for me, it was repetition, nth time. So I decided to hang out with myself. Spend time with myself and let those ideas come out and document them for myself, without customization. Having that those thought pieces stitched together and sharing them to a broad audience, will release me from my self-imposed obligation to do individual communication. After that, I can read the responses, if any, at my own convenience. With this alternate arrangement, while I offload my stress, I also loose the spark of live individual responses on phone or customized responses on email. That’s a tradeoff I chose. For some time now.
PS:
I call myself a blogger. Last blog I posted was ages back. I call myself a writer. I haven’t been able to outline the three acts of my film yet, and have been thinking of this script ever since I started falling in love in Bloomington. With lot of introspection and with my brain’s favorite pastime of pattern recognition, I have figured out the reasons for this gap in my writing. First, I think of multiple tings when I am trying to write. For instance, while writing about problem about writing, when I typed the word “First” above, I started thinking about why have I started writing in this structure form of “First, .. Second,… Finally..” as if I am writing a response to a GMAT essay question. No wonder in the first two paragraphs of a blog I had set out to write as LA Diaries, not even a word was about Los Angeles. I started getting caught up by so many other distracting thoughts with every word I hammered out of my key board. A co-writer yesterday refered to this as the devil editor in a writer’s brain. Second, I think of the audience. I place even myself in the audience and begin criticizing the half-baked sentences most mercilessly and all my energy starts eroding. I myself don’t find them interesting and I wonder why anyone would want to know how I think about a Mexican woman selling pancakes on 5th and Broadway. Then I stop writing about that Mexican woman. But next day when I see that Mexican woman again, I still feel the rush of propensity to write about her. It’s like sex – after doing it, I feel guilty and decide not to do it again. But then few hours later, when I walks down the street for a coffee, I can’t help notice the attractive people on streets.
Confessions of a random stranger
Friday Failures
Last night when I went out, I did not have quantity time, as I started pretty late, but spent quality time with interesting folks. Consequently, I slept at reasonable hour of 1:30 hoping I will get up on time this morning to attend my GA work. Day started with crap.
Alarm I had set was for pm and not am. For a 9AM meeting with GA supervisor, I got up at 8:45. First thing I did, shot an email to supervisor that I will be in by 9:30. With tooth brush in mouth, I frantically shoved things in microwave. Gathered stuff in my swimming bag hoping that after day ends with Finance lecture, I would conclude the day with nice swim. With water still dripping out my hair after super-fast shower, I gathered suits to drop at drycleaner’s for Monday morning interview.
The guy at Dry Cleaner’s told me that he won’t be able to deliver before Monday evening as they did not work on weekends. (I think I should show him my EMA assignments – 4 pages, single spaced, 2 points will be deducted per day WEEKENDS INCLUDED ) He told this with frozen face (that I felt like punching at that moment) – no words of apology. Of course, it wasn’t his fault so why should he be sorry for. But I was already in a mess, running late for meeting, and then I heard No’s, so little sensitiveness was expected here. There was nothing he could do now, except that I told him to just iron if not dry-clean and he charged me the same amount.
After I finish my GA work, only reason for me to hang around was that finance lecture on effect of European crisis on US markets. I marked this in calendar to educate myself better, but it turned out to be so intense that I struggled to keep myself awake even for 5 minutes. I ran away from there during Q n A to hit swimming pool.
While the pretty undergrads at sports center scanned my card, I asked them if the pool was open. Hearing yes, I moved to locker room. I didn’t know what was wrong today, all lockers were full and only today I had humongous belongings and struggled to find THREE lockers to fit the shit in. Getting down to just undergarments, starting from layers of clothes on this cold day was quite an effort. As I immersed myself now in pool to let my miseries of the day drown in chlorine water and had barely swum 7 feet when I heard, “Excuse me sir”. A woman told me that pool was not open for common students for another hour. Really? You telling me now after I am wet in damn chlorine from head to toe?
That was all swimming – 30 seconds in pool. Took the pain to put the layers on again and boarded the bus to come home finally. On the door I see the notice that the two bags I had lost in transit from New Delhi to Bloomington have been found and delivered to society office. Earlier in the day, my close buddy had asked for the presents I was supposed to bring for him and I was excited to open the bags and get him his present. So I run to society office – very excited – to see the bags. Society office was closed – “Woodbridge office is closed today for special staff training”. Bite me.
Oh it did not end here. I thought it was that’s why I hit the button PUBLISH POST. Later in the night I was very alone, my room mate also had gone to New York. So I decided to go out by myself. After taking shower and dressing up, when I stepped out of apartment, I slipped and fell on my butt. My first reaction was to look around. There were people standing and I was on the slippery ground flat. No one bothered to say or do anything. I was shocked. I pulled my self up went back to apartment, turned of the lights and called it a day.
PS:
I wish I were a dog
For a life that was born not conformist
He has a heart that feels
He has a brain that thinks
There is blood that flows in his veins
There is life in him, and he breathes
How can you ridicule him for
Things he never asked for.
Things he was born with.
Things he can’t change.
How can dating translate into love?
Love at first sight? Second sight? Third sight? How these loves happen is beyond me. You have hardly known that person, and you say that you have fell in love with that person?
Similarly, the whole concept of dating culminating into love is something very incomprehensible to me. When you date someone, from the beginning, you have a fixed agenda of sex or date or finding a girl friend or boyfriend in the other person. There is no room for friendship.
Now let’s consider friendship. Imagine a relationship that starts as friendship. You meet this person because you happen to be in same place at same time. No body planned this first meeting. No one set you up with this person. Neither of you two fixed this first meeting. You become friends because circumstance forced you to be together for a common project or team work because you worked in same team at work or because you study in same class at school. Since you two tend to spend lot of time together, you get to know each other very well. You become familiar with every small thing of that person. After this close friendship, what else is left? LOVE? This love happens very unconsciously. You don’t even realize when this one happens. You begin to feel this when she is out of your life for some time. Because you had become addicted to her company and her presence in your life.
Now where in dating or love at different sights you would find this form of love? The love evolved from close friendship is rather purer – it does not even involve looks – good or bad. Who makes friends because of looks? In the dates on the other hand, you tend to pick up only a hot date. You also try to dress real nice and take shower and comb your hair at least that day.
Can business school make you less romantic?
All kinds of people would ask you why you came to business school? First, admission officers. When you make it to school, your classmates. Few months later, your career coaches. At a later time, your recruiters. And of course all through your journey, your friends and acquaintances. I too have been asked the same question. And I dislike monotony. I find it tiring to say the same story. There have been times when I would say, “Every one else has been going to b-school, I just wanted to know what the fuss was about?”. That’s an influence of over dose of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Phoebe once kissed Rachel to know what the fuss was about!
Of the many reasons, I had a strong and genuine one too, to come to school. In the films and popular culture, I had seen business folks are more capitalist, less emotional, not very romantic, more problem solving. Didn’t that businessman called Ambani marry his wife for securing capital to expand and establish his business? Didn’t many rulers marry the princess of other kingdoms to expand their empire? A wall street invest banker busting his ass for 11 hours a day – where will he find time to write poetry or think about his love? I wanted to be a business czar. Running an empire. Like God Father’s Michael Corleone. I really expected my heart to turn into stone by studying finance and private equity. So that 10 years later, when I am blowing a cigar and enjoying my scotch in Calvisius Caviar Lounge in Four Seasons, some hot woman would come , sit next to me, run her deep-red-nail-painted finger down my face and say, “You can’t be so cold, you must have a lot hidden in you”. That could have been perfect way to fast forward 10 years without any emotional baggage or romantic hassles in between.
Damn! That did not happen. Why do I just nod along with a class mate when he talks of sales he increased in his job at Toyota Motors before coming to business school, but my eyes brighten up and moist up out of excitement when he narrates me the time during his high school when he killed a summer in Panama or when he made money while polishing boots and landscaping gardens of neighbors? Why I imagine my classmate attending his hens in a pristine farm instead of understanding the strategy he employs in his poultry business? While attending accounting class, I still marvel at the terrific sense of humor of the professor instead of focusing on accounting ratios. Listening to Turkish professor in Finance class, I am teleported to Istanbul and I lose myself in imagining her journey from Istanbul to New York and in filming that professor in my version of Serendipity, instead of estimating the NPV of money I could make after business school, if only I had kept my senses inside the class. Why would I think of Miranda Priestly in marketing class instead of estimating net market share? So what if professor reminds me of her. Many people in the world have similarities. But so what? Why I have to extend those thoughts?
Why did have to fall in inaccessible love…… Again? Why is it so hard to fall in love with money and career and power? Or with objects like Chair or truck, that you can go ahead and buy and keep with you, till you fall out of love. Why am I writing this instead of making CAR statements and getting my suit ready for blowing away the mind of first recruiter tomorrow? Instead of using my once-upon-a-time genius brain to make it big in this land of opportunity called USA, am I turning into Nikolai Gogol, who could not be understood by anyone, and least of all – by himself? Why am I writing like Sarah Jessica Parker, with answer-less questions?
I saw this country, its people, its culture only in cinema. And in books. Now I see those characters live – all around me. Imagine someone who watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S all his life, is suddenly air-dropped in the Central Perk amidst Joe and Monica and others . Why would he not be overwhelmed! But I did not see this ever coming.. I was on my way to become Godfather, while deciding to attend business school.
I should have rather joined defense forces instead of business school to cure the broken heart and wandering mind!

