Category: #book2

Breaking bad!

Day 63 of lockdown

Day 69 something

So I have officially lost track of the number of days that we’ve been in lockdown. A glance at my blog tells me that it’s been 60+ days that we’ve been holed up indoors. And while it’s been an interesting experience, to say the least. There’s so much to talk about, I think I can even write a book about it, once I am done with #book2. 
But for the time being, here’s a thing that I am want to talk about. 
Technology. 
Breaking upon on me.
For no apparent reason. 
At the worst of times! 
Since we’ve been in the lockdown, here are the things that have broken on me. The days are approximate 🙂
  • On the 2nd day, the phone’s screen broke. To a point that I could not even look at it! Thankfully I had a backup Android phone – the good part was that as a result the time I spent on the phone reduced considerably. Thankfully after about 2-3 weeks, I found a local handyman and got the phone fixed.
  • On the 10th day, I realized that the AC that I have rented from RentoMojo does not work! I mean I hadn’t used in a few months and there was no reason to. Now that weather in Mumbai is getting unbearable, I had to use it. And realized that it was not cooling, some gas issues. Raised a complaint and despite the complaints, they could not repair it. Called a local handyman and got him to fix it. 
  • On the 35th or so day, the AC conked off yet again! This time, Rentomojo agreed to help and they did, though after a few days. 
  • On the 55th day, the cable that charges the only computer I have (a Macbook Air) broke! Like broke. It would not charge. I could still use it to power the laptop and keep it functional. So, I had to maneuver the cable in a weird position to get it to keep the laptop alive. Thankfully, Amazon started working in the meanwhile and I could order a replacement charger. Let’s see how long this one lasts. 
  • Finally, the day before, the charging cable of the iPhone broke! I am in no mood to buy a replacement cable. I’d use the wireless charging station. 
Thing is, because of the lockdown the access was severely limited to markets, market places, people, and other things that could fix these things that broke on me. For no explicable reason. 
Plus all these are expensive, lifestyle things. That means that it takes money as well! It is frustrating to the point that you want to give up. That’s the thing. I sweat about the small stuff and I am ok with larger things that most people lose sleep over! 
Of course I am privileged that I have access to all these in the first place. And then I have access to people and tools that can fix these. And then of course, money. 
Anyhow. The point I was trying to make from this post is, when things get tough, it pours from all sides. And all we can do is, keep calm and carry on 🙂 As they say, life always finds a way. Hope it finds soon 🙂 
Previous posts that I wrote during the lockdown are – 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 19, 30, 32, 34, 35, 37, 39, 45, 47, 57

Book 2. Zinda Hai.

For a millionth time, today I started working on #book2. Its been pending for a long time and while nothing has changed, there have been a few triggers.

Here’s a list.

a. A friend thought that I am suicidal and sent me a copy of The Myth of Sisyphus.

I am not sure if I am / was suicidal or not but after I read the first 3 pages I felt that life was absurd and I ought to end it. Also, I recently moved to an Android phone (which is a suicide in itself) and I have spent last three hours searching for the Blue Whale.

But since a friend gifted the book and I had to respect the 250 bucks he spent on it, I went online and saw this video (that summarized the book in 7 minutes and took me closer to suicide). The video talked about how we must find pleasure in misery and why its absurd to even think of suicide. It did talk of more things but I am sure if I could comprehend it. So, left it at that.

Here’s a tip. Avoid the fucking book at all costs. And if you want to read a book that prevents from you committing suicide, do read Reasons to Stay Alive. I read it when I was not suicidal and it was one of the best reads ever.

But then coming back to the context, book2, somewhere while I was either reading the book or watching the video, I felt that I ought to write. Ergo.

b. I read this piece on BBC where they try and postulate who will be remembered after a 1000 years after they are gone.

Thing is, I’ve never known if I want fame or whatever but I would love to be known 1000 years after I am gone. And the article says that either I need to become a famous villain or die a famous death. I cant control how I’d die but I can create a villain that is more villainous than anyone ever alive? Et tu, Brute?

And to be able to create a Brutus, a Joker, I need to write!

c. Pochu Prasad. Poch was my roommate at MDI. It was his daughter’s birthday recently and when I messaged him after 3 years (thinking that its a good pretext to text long lost friends on their kids’ birthdays), the first thing he asked was, “when’s the next book coming out.”

After I abused him and all that it left me thinking. That my identity is now of someone who’s written a book. And while I am not a one-hit wonder (book was NOT a hit), may be there’s something there!

d. Parijat sent me this.

This is screenshot of Syd‘s book and it reminded me that writing is my personal responsibility. And its high time I worked on it. I can cry about lack of a silver spoon us my ass but I do have a tiny gift with whatever I write. I ought to use it. No?

e. A discussion with a colleague reminded me that I am insignificant and for 35 years of my life, I have shit to show for. More than anything else, I am offended by it and I take it as a personal insult. And I will damn prove the dude wrong. I will achieve something large in my life. Of course I will continue to chase my ambition of climbing the Mt. Everest, impacting a billion lives and making a billion dollars in the process. But I will do well with my writing. You guys wait and watch. Ego makes you do funny things man.

So yeah. That’s about it. More on this later. Right now I have a book to write. And you may want to order the first one here.

The #book2 Brouhaha

Book2 is now officially overdue by 3 years. Three years. In three years you can make 4 babies. In three years you complete college in India. Three years is the time a typical startup needs to break even and start throwing money back at you. Three years is more than a 1000 days. Its 5% of an average human’s productive life. Three years…

Wait. The point is that book2 is delayed. To an extent that no one knows that I am an author. Fuck no one, I have a hard time telling myself that I am one. Anyhow attention spans are like shorter than that of a hummingbird. Who cares if you wrote a book. And this is not the first project that I havent been able to find time for, even if this is the closet to my heart.

I was thinking about it last night and I thought Ill make a list of reasons why I cant seem to get this going. Here goes.

A. No time
Writing is not my first gig. Its not even my second. I mean I do write a lot everyday — presentations, emails, short notes, scribbles and all that. But all of that is for work. There is no writing for recreation. And there is hardly any writing for the book. And the worse part? I dont miss it. I mean there was a time when I would be itchy if I dint write for an hour everyday. Those days are gone.

Right now, its just a battle to rush from one thing to another. In the process, I think I have stopped enjoying little things that make up life.

B. No muse
They say a writer needs a muse to write. I am not sure what was the muse when I did #tnks. Ok wait. A muse is defined as “a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.” So last time I may have had someone. I dont remember. This time, I dont have any. I even got sgMS to agree to marrying me if I could complete the book by end of the year. And that too doesnt seem to be exciting enough.

Maybe I need to talk to the lady I am interested in right now to not talk to me if I dont write a 1000 words a day. Or may be I need to go find someone who is as into writing as I want to be. I dont know what would it take. Ideas?

C. Too much work
Two things here. Work required on writing a book. And effort and time spent on work that gives me the money to afford the lifestyle I lead.

Writing a book may come easy to a lot of people (I know people who “win” NaNoWriMo by writing 50K words in 30 days). To me, it does. I know I can write fast but I am not sure if the kind of things I write can happen in 30 days. I want to research, think, get into conversations (with my characters), leave tons of Easter Eggs (Lol. Why would I do that when not a single reader of #tnks came back to me and told me that they loved how intelligently I buried those little gems throughout the book.). 

So, writing is serious work. And sustained work for long durations (on a daily basis), over a year or so. Do I want that kind of grind? Like I know I never want to be in an operation theatre again, do I want to g through the tribulations that writing a book entail?

Thing is, I am not the one to shy away from hard work but I am the kinds that needs everything perfect. The temperature of the AC, the chair, the table, a working Internet connection and so on and so forth. And the kind of life I live, its often to get all variables in place. And when I do get these variables in place, there’s just too much work that needs my urgent attention that I cant concentrate on moving the story ahead.

That brings me to work that I am engaged in. Like I said in A above, I am at a stage in life where I dont have financial stability. I live month to month and the month I dont work hard in, I am forced to cut my expenses. So its a constant battle between daal-roti and hobbies. And while I am a big advocate of sex and cash theory, I am not sure I can live up to what I preach.

D. No money
If I had a rich wife, I would quit everything and sit on a desk all day and write. Well, I think I will. I am not sure. But I know that a big big impediment to my writing output is the fact that I need to work slog hard for making the ends meet.

E. No inspiration
Apart from a muse that doesnt let you rest, there’s this dying need inside of you to tell that story. I dont have a story like that. I mean I know I have an interesting plot for book2. I mean who would not want to read a fast-paced narrative about a gang of notorious bandits (where no one trusts another) coming together to hunt for a treasure that was lost when Portuguese finally left Goa?

But… the damn but. But is the story compelling enough that it makes me leave everything and keeps me focused on telling the story?

F. Support structure
I am lucky that I have so many people around me that continue to egg me on all the time. In no order, the constant badgering and reminders happen from Anusha, Nikita, Purav, Sachin, Vivek and others. Like last night, on twitter, Sachin sent this.

Write a book.

— Sachin Garg (@GargSachin) November 27, 2017

Thing is, if despite having so many people who want me to write and do well and all that, I cant write, can I? May be by not working on the book, I am letting them down. Could this be a big enough fear that I actually write?

Or maybe I need to apologize to them and quit and move on. And bury the dream of reaching a million people to a time when I have made the money and have little more time on my hands to write?

May I need to quit on this? Or may be not.

G. Commercial success
While you write for yourself and you want to express yourself, I sincerely believe that no endeavour deserves attention if there’s no commercial angle to it. You may not do it for money. But you need to ensure that your work inspires people enough that they are willing to give you their time and money and attention. And you as an artist need to work hard to earn the time and money and attention. You need to make it worth the investment by your patrons. Its a loop. You see it?

If #tnks would have been a runaway success, I probably would have had the money to not worry about work and write. I would have created a “platform” of sorts that would’ve allowed me to chase writing as a career. It would have convinced me and people around me (not that I seek their validation) that I can actually support myself (and my family) through what I write. It would have pushed me to stand on that success and do more.

Since that did not happen, may be the MBA in me is doing a longish cost-benefit analysis and preventing me from investing time on writing? May be I am too rational to be an artist? May be I am not too delusional?

H. Others 
Apart from the list of things above, things that I did not consider while writing this are:

  • Writer’s block. I am not sure that I suffer from it. I can wake up from sleep and start writing. And I can pick up from where I left. 
  • Ability to find a publisher. I am reasonably sure that Sachin at Grapevine will back me up. If not him, I can do a self-publish. 
  • My limited grasp on the English language. I can always find editors to help me out. 
  • My ability to hold interest. I think what I write makes sense and people can more or less finish what I write. 
Bas. Cant write more. That’s about it. I probably need a whack on the head. That nose job that I got done was supposed to be it. But guess not!
Over and out! 
P.S.: Funny. After this such a long rant, I still dont know if I want to write. Like they say, bakchodi karwa lo bas! 

Day 2. Oct 2017.

So, after a mammoth post yesterday (that took me a few days to write), its time to write one that is tad light-hearted. And while I was thinking of ideas to write on, I thought, why not write some words for #book2? Incidentally, #tnks started like a blogpost. Here goes. 

If Purav wasnt howling his lungs out at the dead body of Birju, the cops could’ve never ended the 30-year long run of the fearsome Danveer Karna Sevak Gang. Unlike their name, that meant servants to the mythological figure of Karna, they weren’t really servants per se. They were merely a group of 5 thugs, notorious for stealing precious artifacts from museums, temples and palaces and selling them off to collectors. Amongst known list of robberies to their credit, the big ones included the Royal Crown of The Nizam of Golconda, original paintings from the time of Akbar from Itimad-ud-Daulah’s tomb near Agra, Sword of Ibrahim Lodhi from a museum in Delhi, statue of Shiva from the little known Rameswara Siva Temple at Kolkata and more.

The modus operandi was very simple. 5 of them will shortlist a target, often handed over to them by their contact. They would do an extensive research to understand the security arrangements and strike when no one would expect them to. And once they had stolen what they wanted to, they would part ways and lay low for months. Once the heat on the case was gone, they would regroup, often at Sehore, about 40 KMs from Bhopal. Partly because it was bang in the middle of the country and partly because Birju, the leader of the gang was a priest at the one of the hundreds temples in the district. Plus, it was nondescript enough to not warrant any additional attention to the gang when they did meet. Of course there was the curious case of these strangers walking into the temples once every few months and Birju Dada, as he was fondly called, disappearing for a few days. But back in small town India, such occurrences could be easily explained by dismissing these travels as side effect of having a large family.

After stealing this 14th century Bible from a church in Goa, they had decided to again part ways, with Birju taking the loot with him and regroup at Sehore after 4 months. If there was a change in plan, Birju would publish a specific obituary in Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkatta editions of the largest newspaper, Nai Duniya and mention date and time for the prayer meeting. You just had to apply a small cipher to know of the exact date on which you were expected in Sehore. Thing with obituaries is that while people read it with interest and take a note of the long list of apparently grieving family members no one really pays any attention to who had died.

When the last obit carried the photograph of Birju himself, the gang had a hearty laugh when they were together. Birju had said that he was out of his collection of stock images and was too lazy to get more photos from the local photographer. Little did he know that he was going to be this accurate!

***

Thats about it. For some reason I cant get more than 500 words but at least I’ve put something up. Like Seth said yesterday,

Thank you, Seth. For this. pic.twitter.com/tdm58pgtDF

— SG (@saurabh) October 2, 2017