Some months ago as I ate at a roadside cafe in Frankfurt, two young men came and sat at the next table. They were probably British, tall and strong and fit. They wore stylish black T shirts and high quality jeans. Their cheerful demeanor contrasted with the dark messages on their T shirts - pictures of skeletons and words of death and despair.
Across the road, I saw a young blond girl - looking like Steffi Graf in her prime - come and sit down on the pavement with her back against a wall. She was dressed in sky blue denim and the evening sun lit her with a nice light. She brought out a brown paper bag and I could vaguely make out that she was doing something with her arm. When I looked a few minutes later, her body had slumped forward. Soon she was flat on the dirty pavement.
I could not help but note the irony - while some of us play at being "grown up" with dark images and dark words and dark music, others who are innocent and young lose the bright spark of their youth to the darkness of drugs. There was no great insight here - just oodles of irony.
Frankfurt has its dark side. There are a few streets where the pavement is littered with used needles and addicts walk around aimlessly. The whole place stinks of urine. Some of the drug users are still young and relatively healthy. Others are older, their eyes sunken and their skin blotchy.
Sometimes there are groups of addicts who are quite aggressive in asking for money. Walking past them is for me one of the scariest things in the world, because you can see in their empty eyes that they could stab you with a knife or a needle and not even realize what they had done. I don't think I have felt fear like that in any other situation.
I normally prefer that individual freedoms are not circumscribed by government regulations and I usually believe in giving the individual the right to experiment, but with drugs the answer is not that obvious. Many drugs are too highly addictive to expect a human being to be able to try them and yet resist them.
From the relaxed regulations of the Netherlands which focus on treating the individual, to the harsh, death penalty approach of countries like Indonesia and Singapore (which runs the risk of executing unwitting carriers of drugs), this is one battle waged across the world without any clear formula of success.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Hooray for Chandrayaan!
When we were studying at IIT, ISRO's space launches would typically end up in the Bay of Bengal instead. We used to discuss what went wrong (one of them failed due to a floating point error in the software, if I remember right) but overall I used to see the failures as a symbol of how India's government-sponsored projects just never succeed. Even today, one is bewildered at the glacially slow progress and huge cost overruns in the Light Combat Aircraft, Arjun Main Battle Tank and Light Combat Helicopter projects, for example.
But in missile and space technology, India seems to have come a long way. And Chand
rayaan's discovery of water on the moon, however fortuitous, is a great story! I was lucky enough to see it while in Germany, on US television. It was also interesting to note that while the sensor Chandrayaan used had been given by NASA, CNN directed the majority of the coverage to Chandrayaan and the Indian connection rather than to that piece of equipment. It was another step forward in the building of the country's brand image.
"What one man can do, another can do" - which, by the way, appears to come from ancient Latin: "ILLUD AB HOMINE FACTUM AB ALTERO FIERI POTEST"!
But in missile and space technology, India seems to have come a long way. And Chand
rayaan's discovery of water on the moon, however fortuitous, is a great story! I was lucky enough to see it while in Germany, on US television. It was also interesting to note that while the sensor Chandrayaan used had been given by NASA, CNN directed the majority of the coverage to Chandrayaan and the Indian connection rather than to that piece of equipment. It was another step forward in the building of the country's brand image."What one man can do, another can do" - which, by the way, appears to come from ancient Latin: "ILLUD AB HOMINE FACTUM AB ALTERO FIERI POTEST"!
Taxi drivers from around the world
In response to one of my recent posts about Swedes, Nikhil Sukhlecha (Fall 2009) wrote: "Reading the article i realised that every country has its own ettiquetes which have positives as well as negatives but a country develops its image by capitalizing on its positive side and negating the negative side to least." (sic) I liked this insightful comment and it led to this post on taxi drivers.
When you get into a cab in the US or in most European countries, you are likely to have a driver who has immigrated from another nation. This leads to a lot of interesting hours, interesting discussions, and interesting insights. Let me start with a few anecdotes from this visit and then go back to some previous interesting cab rides.
When I landed in Stockholm this week, the driver's name tag read "Nasser" and he looked Egyptian but I did not talk to him as I was very tired. Still, I thought of the famous people with that name.
The next day, I had a taxi driver whose name was "Halwaaei Esmail Esse". I asked him where he was from and he said Iran. I said I had guessed he was not Arabic because Arabs tend to write "Ismail". He said, yes, "Arabs write it with an 'I' as they pronounce it 'ISHHmaayil'." Thus we got talking about how close the Iranian language is to Hindi because of the connection via Urdu, and how even the beautiful Taj Mahal has Persian influence. Then I asked him what "Halwaaei" meant. He said, "Halwaa is a sweet thing that we eat". I laughed and said, "We have halwaa too - I grew up having halwaa on every Sunday morning! And for us a halwaaei is a sweetmaker." This was news to him and we talked some more. We talked about the meaningless Iraq-Iran war in which a million people (yes, million) people were killed and about the US-Iraq wars and about the theological hardliners in Iran. "I think man should stop making weapons", he said, and he must have suffered more than many of us on account of these tools of death. I said, "I also think one must often meet people from other countries. Then one realizes we are all the same!"
In Frankfurt, I once sat in a cab driven by an Afghan immigrant. I came to know this young Afghan through a German friend who had grown up as a child in Afghanistan. The Afghan's name was Enayat, meaning mercy in his language. Enayat is also an Urdu word, of course! He talked about the two main languages of Afghanistan - Dari and Pashto. Dari is like Persian, but even Pashto has a lot of commonality with Hindi (with words like khwaish, kitaab, kitaabkhaanaa, khoshqhalaa (happy), kaafi, imteqhaan, intezaar etc.) He also added that Enayat was in fact also a part of a common Arabic name, "Enayatollah" - the mercy of God!!
Whether we like it or not, the world is a small place and changes seamlessly, from Iran to Afghanistan, to Pakistan, to India, to Sri Lanka and beyond, to Thailand and Indonesia and on and on!
Last evening I was driven to the Stockholm Arlanda airport by a driver with the last name "Bemmet". He was from Eritrea. He talked of the decades-old struggle for independence from Ethiopia which culminated in independence in the 90s, the beauty and safety of the Italian-built capital Asmara, and of how the Eritrean military dictatorship enjoys the support of its people at least for now. (We also talked about how power corrupts, and how absolute power corrupts absolutely!) He said that there are many Indians in his country involved in teaching and helping build the country. This is our silent diplomatic corps! I once had a Nigerian taxi driver who said the same thing about Indian teachers and educators in Nigeria.
Some months ago, I had a Kurdish Iranian driver in the German city of Freiburg. I told him about how I had been growing up in Iraqi Kurdistan in the early 80s, when Saddam still ruled Iraq and the Kurds were in open rebellion. We talked of Iraqi Kurdistan now being connected by flights to Frankfurt and how it was booming. It was like meeting someone from my own village!
I often get to sit in cabs driven by Pakistanis. We talk of how my mother was born in Lahore (sometimes they tell of how their parents were born in what is now India) and of how we are almost one people. The Pakistanis are usually very complimentary on how India has pulled itself up in the last decade or so, mainly on the strength of IT and BPO. But once in a while I meet a Pakistani - very infrequently - who doesn't really want to talk. Most are very friendly and very welcoming.
Once I sat in a New York City cab driven by a Sardarji who had left India after the 1984 Sikh riots. I could feel his pain and his bitterness, even a decade later. My mind went back in time to how there used to be a taxi stand run by some Sikhs just outside the South Delhi colony where we lived, which I would pass every evening on the way to the Mother Dairy milk booth. When sometimes I was late making my trip, I remember how I would feel secure once more when I would reach the taxi stand and see those strong cheerful Sikhs. Later in those dark days in 1984, when I saw from our windows thin columns of smoke rising from the horizon, I did not know that some of the fires below contained the bodies of those friendly Sikhs. I could not talk normally to my Sikh friends for some years afterwards.
It's not always that one finds commonality with the taxi driver. I was being driven by an Indian in New York City right after the World Trade Center bombings. No matter how much one may hate historical US foreign policy, the sheer human tragedy of those bombings hung over every street like a cloud of gloom and unspeakable despair. Mumbai must have felt like that after the terror attacks last year. But the taxi driver had other thoughts and said of his host country, "Serves them right, they had it coming!" I felt like asking him to go back to India if he felt so strongly about this... and to stop the cab and let me get off.
I can go on and on. It's a revelation to meet these people around the world, still in tenuous touch with their home countries, still drawn to the lands of their birth but unable to do more than visit once in a few years. Most are very nice and friendly to an Indian.
I try my best to make a connection and spread some goodwill because in this dangerous tinderbox world, we all need all the goodwill we can get.
When you get into a cab in the US or in most European countries, you are likely to have a driver who has immigrated from another nation. This leads to a lot of interesting hours, interesting discussions, and interesting insights. Let me start with a few anecdotes from this visit and then go back to some previous interesting cab rides.
When I landed in Stockholm this week, the driver's name tag read "Nasser" and he looked Egyptian but I did not talk to him as I was very tired. Still, I thought of the famous people with that name.
The next day, I had a taxi driver whose name was "Halwaaei Esmail Esse". I asked him where he was from and he said Iran. I said I had guessed he was not Arabic because Arabs tend to write "Ismail". He said, yes, "Arabs write it with an 'I' as they pronounce it 'ISHHmaayil'." Thus we got talking about how close the Iranian language is to Hindi because of the connection via Urdu, and how even the beautiful Taj Mahal has Persian influence. Then I asked him what "Halwaaei" meant. He said, "Halwaa is a sweet thing that we eat". I laughed and said, "We have halwaa too - I grew up having halwaa on every Sunday morning! And for us a halwaaei is a sweetmaker." This was news to him and we talked some more. We talked about the meaningless Iraq-Iran war in which a million people (yes, million) people were killed and about the US-Iraq wars and about the theological hardliners in Iran. "I think man should stop making weapons", he said, and he must have suffered more than many of us on account of these tools of death. I said, "I also think one must often meet people from other countries. Then one realizes we are all the same!"
In Frankfurt, I once sat in a cab driven by an Afghan immigrant. I came to know this young Afghan through a German friend who had grown up as a child in Afghanistan. The Afghan's name was Enayat, meaning mercy in his language. Enayat is also an Urdu word, of course! He talked about the two main languages of Afghanistan - Dari and Pashto. Dari is like Persian, but even Pashto has a lot of commonality with Hindi (with words like khwaish, kitaab, kitaabkhaanaa, khoshqhalaa (happy), kaafi, imteqhaan, intezaar etc.) He also added that Enayat was in fact also a part of a common Arabic name, "Enayatollah" - the mercy of God!!
Whether we like it or not, the world is a small place and changes seamlessly, from Iran to Afghanistan, to Pakistan, to India, to Sri Lanka and beyond, to Thailand and Indonesia and on and on!
Last evening I was driven to the Stockholm Arlanda airport by a driver with the last name "Bemmet". He was from Eritrea. He talked of the decades-old struggle for independence from Ethiopia which culminated in independence in the 90s, the beauty and safety of the Italian-built capital Asmara, and of how the Eritrean military dictatorship enjoys the support of its people at least for now. (We also talked about how power corrupts, and how absolute power corrupts absolutely!) He said that there are many Indians in his country involved in teaching and helping build the country. This is our silent diplomatic corps! I once had a Nigerian taxi driver who said the same thing about Indian teachers and educators in Nigeria.
Some months ago, I had a Kurdish Iranian driver in the German city of Freiburg. I told him about how I had been growing up in Iraqi Kurdistan in the early 80s, when Saddam still ruled Iraq and the Kurds were in open rebellion. We talked of Iraqi Kurdistan now being connected by flights to Frankfurt and how it was booming. It was like meeting someone from my own village!
I often get to sit in cabs driven by Pakistanis. We talk of how my mother was born in Lahore (sometimes they tell of how their parents were born in what is now India) and of how we are almost one people. The Pakistanis are usually very complimentary on how India has pulled itself up in the last decade or so, mainly on the strength of IT and BPO. But once in a while I meet a Pakistani - very infrequently - who doesn't really want to talk. Most are very friendly and very welcoming.
Once I sat in a New York City cab driven by a Sardarji who had left India after the 1984 Sikh riots. I could feel his pain and his bitterness, even a decade later. My mind went back in time to how there used to be a taxi stand run by some Sikhs just outside the South Delhi colony where we lived, which I would pass every evening on the way to the Mother Dairy milk booth. When sometimes I was late making my trip, I remember how I would feel secure once more when I would reach the taxi stand and see those strong cheerful Sikhs. Later in those dark days in 1984, when I saw from our windows thin columns of smoke rising from the horizon, I did not know that some of the fires below contained the bodies of those friendly Sikhs. I could not talk normally to my Sikh friends for some years afterwards.
It's not always that one finds commonality with the taxi driver. I was being driven by an Indian in New York City right after the World Trade Center bombings. No matter how much one may hate historical US foreign policy, the sheer human tragedy of those bombings hung over every street like a cloud of gloom and unspeakable despair. Mumbai must have felt like that after the terror attacks last year. But the taxi driver had other thoughts and said of his host country, "Serves them right, they had it coming!" I felt like asking him to go back to India if he felt so strongly about this... and to stop the cab and let me get off.
I can go on and on. It's a revelation to meet these people around the world, still in tenuous touch with their home countries, still drawn to the lands of their birth but unable to do more than visit once in a few years. Most are very nice and friendly to an Indian.
I try my best to make a connection and spread some goodwill because in this dangerous tinderbox world, we all need all the goodwill we can get.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Intelligent transport systems
I attended the Intelligent Transport Systems trade fair at Stockholm today and was amazed to see the new technologies being developed by dozens of innovative companies, big and small.
Most interesting for me was the technology that lets you analyze videos of traffic. The camera feed is processed using feature extraction and image recognition techniques to read license plate numbers and even find out the type and color of the car! It is also possible to find out the speed and direction of the car. Therefore you just have to install cameras at strategic points in the city and you will not need to set up police checkposts! If you are looking for a blue Wagon R, say, that was involved in a robbery at location A, you will be able to pretty much track in real time its progress through the city, even if the crooks change the number plates! Imagine the data being delivered to policemen on their mobile phones by SMS, in real time. The technology exists!
Now THAT is truly game changing! I love it.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sthlm
Sthlm - that is the short form for Stockholm. The city made up of fourteen islands.
This evening, driving over a bridge with the imposing King's palace and Parliament on our left, and on the right the building where the Nobel prizes are given out, I wondered what kind of human energy would allow a sophisticated civilization to thrive in this land of dark freezing winters! In contrast, most of India has much less lethal weather.
Yet there is no energetic frenzy here in the people. It is just a quiet efficient country. Most people work only from 8 am to 4 pm (yes!) and 4 to 5 pm is rush hour. People enjoy a lot of holidays, 6 months maternity leave, 3 months paternity leave... and the country is still so much richer than India. Everyone seems productively employed, efficiently employed.
Productivity is the key... We have to make every Indian productive. PROTON is a small start but a good start.
This evening, driving over a bridge with the imposing King's palace and Parliament on our left, and on the right the building where the Nobel prizes are given out, I wondered what kind of human energy would allow a sophisticated civilization to thrive in this land of dark freezing winters! In contrast, most of India has much less lethal weather.
Yet there is no energetic frenzy here in the people. It is just a quiet efficient country. Most people work only from 8 am to 4 pm (yes!) and 4 to 5 pm is rush hour. People enjoy a lot of holidays, 6 months maternity leave, 3 months paternity leave... and the country is still so much richer than India. Everyone seems productively employed, efficiently employed.
Productivity is the key... We have to make every Indian productive. PROTON is a small start but a good start.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sweden
I write this post from an office in Stockholm. Outside the skies are gray, the air is cool, and everything is quiet and clean. The office itself is typically Swedish, light colored wood furniture, white board walls, a simple spare aesthetic. The Swedish aesthetic is reflected in one of Sweden's best known brands, the assemble-it-yourself furniture company IKEA.
The Swedes are an interesting people. They are quite international in their outlook, and Stockholm is bustling with people of all colors of skin. Most of them speak English well.
They are also early adopters of technology, as are many other Scandinavians, which is perhaps why the mobile phone giants Nokia and Ericsson occupy this small corner of the world. Some of Ericsson's buildings can be seen from my window. These plain, warehouse style buildings are fitted luxuriously inside, including with indoor swimming pools.
The Swedes have a very open and flat corporate structure. They are proud of the fact that you can pick up the phone and call the CEO of any company and he will probably answer the phone himself or herself and talk to you without arrogance. There is a whiff of socialism in the air, also reflected in the astronomically high tax rates.
The Swedes are famous for the way they make decisions. In the Swedish style of management, everything is consensus driven. There is little place for individual egos or centers of power. "In another country, I can get an okay from the CEO and the deal is done," lamented a Swede at lunch today. "Here I have to talk to the entire management team till they all agree." It is considered all right to have many meetings without a decision. The upside is that when a decision is taken, the consensus is very solid and things move quickly.
The Swedes are known for their love of coffee, which helps them fill up the time in the winter when there is hardly any daylight. They also laugh at themselves for their little good-natured eccentricities, like a love of the "take a number and wait" systems at every Swedish service office.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Please go back to my post on handheld technology
I did not see any comments - perhaps it was because I published a few posts all at once and people only read the latest ones.
Do go back and read that post on handheld technology. I am really looking for ideas there.
Do go back and read that post on handheld technology. I am really looking for ideas there.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Investing in the stockmarket
Over the course of your life, you will probably invest at some point or other in the stockmarket. It is important to understand what the stockmarket is and what it is not. I will outline some very basic ideas below.
The stockmarket is a risky investment. If you invest in a broad-based way (that is, covering many types of companies in many sectors), you have lower risk because while some of these may do badly, chances are that others will do well. At the other extreme, a single stock by itself is quite a risky investment.
The risk also reduces over time. If you think you may need your money at short notice, the stockmarket is not the right place to invest it. Put money in the stockmarket only if you don’t mind leaving it there for 5-7 years.
Beware of people who promise to invest your money for you claiming that they will get you better returns than the market. Even if you escape the Madoffs of the world, remember this: it has been proven that most money managers are no better at picking stocks than monkeys throwing darts. And unlike the monkeys, the money managers don’t work for peanuts!
Be even more skeptical of business newspaper columnists. If they knew how to predict the markets, they’d be retired! I read everywhere these days that “this is the perfect time to buy a house”. Haha, this is definitely some PR money at work.
The only way to possibly beat the market is to develop great understanding and intuition about how things will evolve. Not many of us will get there. A few people like Warren Buffett have managed to beat the market on the average, but even they are wrong once in a while. This is why they do not go and bet all their money on a single outcome. They know that at the future is always a gamble and they gamble wisely.
The investor who is most dangerous for himself or herself is the person who first invested when the market was in a bull run, i.e. rising continuously. He or she does not have the experience of markets that go down and stay down for years. That is why I am warning you – you are lucky to grown up in a time of resilient markets that cannot be kept down for long. But that may also prove unlucky if, by the time you have money to invest, you start to believe that markets will always give you supernormal returns.
There is no free lunch.
The stockmarket is a risky investment. If you invest in a broad-based way (that is, covering many types of companies in many sectors), you have lower risk because while some of these may do badly, chances are that others will do well. At the other extreme, a single stock by itself is quite a risky investment.
The risk also reduces over time. If you think you may need your money at short notice, the stockmarket is not the right place to invest it. Put money in the stockmarket only if you don’t mind leaving it there for 5-7 years.
Beware of people who promise to invest your money for you claiming that they will get you better returns than the market. Even if you escape the Madoffs of the world, remember this: it has been proven that most money managers are no better at picking stocks than monkeys throwing darts. And unlike the monkeys, the money managers don’t work for peanuts!
Be even more skeptical of business newspaper columnists. If they knew how to predict the markets, they’d be retired! I read everywhere these days that “this is the perfect time to buy a house”. Haha, this is definitely some PR money at work.
The only way to possibly beat the market is to develop great understanding and intuition about how things will evolve. Not many of us will get there. A few people like Warren Buffett have managed to beat the market on the average, but even they are wrong once in a while. This is why they do not go and bet all their money on a single outcome. They know that at the future is always a gamble and they gamble wisely.
The investor who is most dangerous for himself or herself is the person who first invested when the market was in a bull run, i.e. rising continuously. He or she does not have the experience of markets that go down and stay down for years. That is why I am warning you – you are lucky to grown up in a time of resilient markets that cannot be kept down for long. But that may also prove unlucky if, by the time you have money to invest, you start to believe that markets will always give you supernormal returns.
There is no free lunch.
The tipping point
I am writing this on the Jan Shatabdi train from Dehradun to Delhi. I am traveling by the AC chair car. I am musing how this train can be improved so that foreigners of all types can travel without disdain, not just the extreme-India-loving or hippie types.
The most remarkable aspect of the train at the moment is the cockroaches. There was one walking about in the aisle near my foot until someone stepped on it accidentally. Its body lies there, half squished. There was one on the door as a lady in front of me opened it without noticing the creature – I wondered what would be the scene if it fell on her. There is one by my own window. They rule the place.
I don’t know if you have read the book “The Tipping Point”. It tries to show that things do not always change gradually – often a point of inflection is reached after which things change precipitously. The story of crime in New York City is a key example. By policing and preventing minor crime such as graffiti on walls or free riders on the trains, the nature of the city changed dramatically and more serious crime dropped.
I see the same thing at the apartments where I live. Every once in a while, the common areas are whitewashed. Things stay pristine for quite a while. But when we get the first squirt of paan-juice in a basement corner and it is not taken care of at once, we know that part of the planet is going to change quickly. Very soon, that corner will become a shrine to the Betel Nut and Associated Products. It will be anointed by more red paan stains, a few lighter colored gutka stains, and showered with empty gutka packets.
Similarly, once the first obscenity is scrawled in the lift and it is not painted over, there is an avalanche of stunted minds expressing their immature frustrations on the lift’s walls. I think this is the tipping point phenomenon in action.
(WHOO – A COCKROACH ALMOST CRAWLED UP MY ELBOW JUST NOW !!! I regret to say that I swatted at it and probably killed it. I’m not feeling very animal-friendly at the moment…)
In the Indian Railways, I think the tipping point we need to end the direct dumping of excreta (feces in other words, or more plainly, shit) on the tracks by the toilets which are essentially just holes in the floor, and to banish the cockroaches from the coaches. If we can get rid of these two symbols of disrepair and decrepitude, we might be able to fix the rest of the system rather quickly. What do you think?
The most remarkable aspect of the train at the moment is the cockroaches. There was one walking about in the aisle near my foot until someone stepped on it accidentally. Its body lies there, half squished. There was one on the door as a lady in front of me opened it without noticing the creature – I wondered what would be the scene if it fell on her. There is one by my own window. They rule the place.
I don’t know if you have read the book “The Tipping Point”. It tries to show that things do not always change gradually – often a point of inflection is reached after which things change precipitously. The story of crime in New York City is a key example. By policing and preventing minor crime such as graffiti on walls or free riders on the trains, the nature of the city changed dramatically and more serious crime dropped.
I see the same thing at the apartments where I live. Every once in a while, the common areas are whitewashed. Things stay pristine for quite a while. But when we get the first squirt of paan-juice in a basement corner and it is not taken care of at once, we know that part of the planet is going to change quickly. Very soon, that corner will become a shrine to the Betel Nut and Associated Products. It will be anointed by more red paan stains, a few lighter colored gutka stains, and showered with empty gutka packets.
Similarly, once the first obscenity is scrawled in the lift and it is not painted over, there is an avalanche of stunted minds expressing their immature frustrations on the lift’s walls. I think this is the tipping point phenomenon in action.
(WHOO – A COCKROACH ALMOST CRAWLED UP MY ELBOW JUST NOW !!! I regret to say that I swatted at it and probably killed it. I’m not feeling very animal-friendly at the moment…)
In the Indian Railways, I think the tipping point we need to end the direct dumping of excreta (feces in other words, or more plainly, shit) on the tracks by the toilets which are essentially just holes in the floor, and to banish the cockroaches from the coaches. If we can get rid of these two symbols of disrepair and decrepitude, we might be able to fix the rest of the system rather quickly. What do you think?
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