Cinderella without Glass Slippers

My Travelogues: Somewhere over the Rainbow

Tanvi Saraf — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 20:17:14 +0000

Some of the happiest moments of my life were spent in Switzerland – yet this post about the same is one of the shortest on my blog. I suppose nature, in its most elevated glory, can neither be painted, photographed nor written about. It can just be experienced.

Had the impressionists come to Switzerland to paint, not only would they have had a stroke, they also would have, eventually, abandoned their art in disillusion. They would have realized that Swiss nature can never be tamed onto a canvass; it can never ever be conquered. At least that’s how i felt when i saw the larger than life trees and mountains swirling up around me.

When we saw the Interlaken lakes, we were not impressed…no…but startled and confused. This blue…where had it come from? I don’t even know if that color can be called blue – it really merits a new name of its own. I had never seen it in any other part of the world, and never would, even if I tried to shop for it in a Saari and petticoat matching store

The tiny cottages dotting the river and hill sides, with cows wearing bells grazing in their back yards, reminded me of a world I once knew of in fairy tales.

And the people! They weren’t people, but sugar dandies walking on two legs. My friend, on exchange in Switzerland, told me of an incident he had on his first day in the country. Lost, he asked a fellow passenger on the bus for directions to his hostel. She got off on the bus stop along with him and escorted him all the way to his hostel. Once he was safe and sound, she once again caught the bus to go back home, for her actual stop was some way off from the one she had gotten off at!

And in that moment, when I first broke through the clouds, on my way up to Mt. Titlus, I decided to call this part of my life, this little part spent in Switzerland – “Somewhere over the Rainbow”!

My Travelogues: My Impressions of Art

Tanvi Saraf — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 17:13:42 +0000

I feel embarrassed of the Travelogues section on my blog. Over 10 countries visited and no experiences to write about? Hence, I have decided that I will, over the next few days, put down all my “Aha” moments down in writing – and have a look at them once again, when I’m bored of life, and say to myself – “Yes…I too once lived it up!”

Starting from the beginning – when Paris, the cultural capital of Europe had taken my imagination by storm: I feel I am a half-artist, artist because I have so much to express and half because I have been given nothing to express it with. This is why, like a ghost-hunter, I stalked the spirits of Monet, Renoir, Pissaro, Van Gogh, Michelangelo etc through various museum hallways, day after day.

Something must be said about the Musee d’ Orsay, the works of which mark the start of the impressionist movement. Until previously, the true challenge for artists was to get as close to reality as possible. But with the dawn of photography, their talent was rendered obsolete.

The impressionist painters felt that through their art, they should offer an alternative form of expression, and not something parallel to photography.

What is art? It’s not reality, it is an artist’s impression of reality. Gone were the days of stencils and scales, where you used precise and restrained drawing lines to portray forms and then later filled the shapes in with colour. Impressions are fleeting; hence these artists would fill in their canvasses with what they saw (or felt) in a matter of minutes; thus creating works which now cost millions. The impressionists traded precision for emotion – they made their canvasses shimmer by employing violent strokes of paint. Their fiery colors would mirror raw emotions much more closely than they did reality.

You don’t hang an impressionist painting, you tether it. When I see a great impressionist piece of work, my heart skips a beat and suddenly starts floating in an anti-gravity atmosphere. If I could create nature, I would have made it just the way they did.

Their technique was simple but revolutionary. Let’s say you mix red, yellow and green together- you will get brown, right? But the impressionists didn’t bother to mix them. They would slap strokes of these primary colours next to each other. While the colors would blend into brown in your eyes at a distance, your subconscious would shiver with the vibrancy of multiple colors.

Here a few of my favorite impressionist works -

Forgot the artist...

Monet

By the Sea, Renoir

The Theatre Box, Renoir

My Travelogues: Prague!

Tanvi Saraf — Thu, 21 Oct 2010 21:01:59 +0000

Prague – the name rings of exoticism. Of colors and smells and crystal chimes. Had I a magic carpet, I most definitely would have jumped on it, the first vacation i got, and flown off to this curious land in the far-east. I had the chance to do something similar a few days back (via a restless and lengthy train journey instead).

Prague lived up to all my expectations, but in ways I would have never anticipated.
I was looking forward to dark haired strangers, with rugged faces and gentle eyes. Like Aladdin(s). Was it because of the word “exotic” or because of the thought of a magic carpet? Or because I was a dreamy, uninformed tourist? What I saw, actually, when we landed at the station were stunningly tall and beautiful blonde…almost white haired women, wearing fur coats and haughty expressions.

Although the name Prague has a hot, fiery appeal to it, it was sub-zero when we reached the city. As we made our way to our hostel, I scanned the streets hopefully to get a preview of the much heard of Prague night life. 11 pm. Not a soul in sight. All restaurants closed. The icy wind cackled in my ears and hunger bit my empty stomach.

Snow. Barren lands. Witches of Narnia. This was a story I knew all too well. Where was my exotic adventure? My face fell. On reaching the hostel, I ate a bowl of cornflakes grumpily and went to bed.

Fast forward to one night later – Prague Night Life
I stepped out of the metro station near city centre, with the noblest of intentions. A black man jumped in front of me all of a sudden. “I take you!” he growled enthusiastically. This didn’t sound like good news. “I take you … for free!” This sounded worse.

“Hot Peppers…Hot Peppers…No. 1 in Prague…Come, I show you for free!”
Our curiosity got the better of us. He took us through some winding lanes and into an underground club. Police woman. Witch on a broom. Boxer girl. My jaw dropped and eyes popped out. Like Roger Rabbit. This adventure was equally shocking and exotic for all species and genders alike.

And speaking of colors, i saw plenty that night: the blushed red of excitement, pale white of shock, the bubbling violet of lust, the flaming green of Absinthe …..and rainbows in everyone’s eyes.

Of Food
What can I say about Prague food? The aromatic, smoking hot merlot that fills up your senses, golden foam streaming down 1 litre beer mugs, whole pigs on poles dancing on fire, mountains of baked potatoes, snow-capped with cream – here was a city with an appetite!

Of Architecture and Atmosphere
Art Nouveau, Gothic, and Baroque – all side by side. Un-demolished, proud, silent witnesses of the Second World War – the full wrath of which never touched Prague. Crystal shops abound in every corner like moss growing on rocks. You can just get lost for an entire day in the dazzling games of a million different crystals bouncing light off each other. Sometimes, when the sun comes out, the crystals make you rainbows on earth

My Travelogues: The Louvre

Tanvi Saraf — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 02:46:01 +0000

Normal people would restrain from dedicating an entire post to the Louvre museum. This assumption can be justified by the fact that the most common adjective heard in my friend circles with respect to the Louvre has been: Bouncer!

Yet, for some reason, this museum seems to have taken my imagination by storm. Infact, my last vivid dream saw me transform into a world renowned artist who played with lights, shadows and shapes to create beautiful master pieces of a never-before-seen art style. This was the context of the dream. The details however, focussed on the fabulous masterpieces I fluently created in my dream world. [The reader may note that the key reason why this dream was so audaciously unearthly was because it was (legally) conceived in Amsterdam.]

Anyway, back to the main point. So why is the Louvre Museum “The” museum? I think that it ultimately boils down to one man – King Louis XIV. See, Louis, when once too young to be crowned King after his deceased father, was mistreated and made prisoner in his own palace by the French nobility during his long wait to the throne. When he finally gained power, fed up of his long drawn life of restraint, the king decided to build himself a palace so grand that it would exalt the concept of luxury to new levels and turn heads world over. It cost half of France’s GDP to construct this palace and its every corner was to be adorned by beautiful paintings, sculptures and tapestries. Commissions given to artists were attractive, the recognition accorded envious and work was plentiful. Besides artists had the freedom to be creative and didn’t have to report to work early in the mornings – so why wouldn’t anyone want to be in this profession? This, in my opinion, sparked off a new “art” boom.

With a large chunk of the country running on the arts during those times, appreciation for this field and its criticality to the economy rose. Subsequent French conquests always sought to cease works of arts from the defeated nations. No wonder that there was enough art to stock up a grand museum such as the Louvre.

In my opinion, the Louvre is most famous for its size and the centuries of culture and tradition it stores. But if you were just to appreciate talent, then perhaps the Orsay Museum (Monet, Manet, Van Gogh, etc) would be a more rewarding experience. The Louvre houses collections until the mid 18th century while the Orsay houses collections since then. Now Leonardo da Vinci may be the most towering art personality of all times, but I’m a firm believer of the fact that humanity progresses with time. People become more intelligent and better at what they do. (Besides I never liked the Mona Lisa much!) More on the Orsay Museum later after my visit tomorrow…

Plump Women

One of the most interesting things at the Louvre was discovering how the perception of beauty evolved over time…for example, in this painting dated sometime around the 15th century, plump women were considered to be beautiful. It’s quite unfortunate how they become slimmer in the paintings as the years progressed. I definitely would have had a less guilty conscience with my creme brulee and apple pie indulgences had I been born in 15th century in Europe.

Unnatural Beauty

Now the reason why this woman looks so beautiful is because her body is unnatural! She has a very elongated back, deliberately crafted by the artist to enhance her beauty. This subject of her back sparked off a huge controversy in France during the release of this piece…

The Moment before their Death

This is a painting which I would have never given a second glance to. Surprisingly,it is paintings like these which observers with a keen eye would appreciate the most. These two lads here, for example, are the 2 sons of Kind Edward the something, and this scene reflects the moment of terror in their eyes when their uncle is knocking wildly at their bedroom door, only to subsequently break it down to execute them, so as to gain power over the throne instead of them rightfully inheriting it. The surroundings in the painting have deliberately been darkened, so that the observer’s attention immediately goes to terrorised expression on their faces, the main object of this painting. The expressions on their faces is somewhat restrained and not dramatic, representing the artist’s attempt to be realistic in his art.

Funery Art

As I mentioned earlier, art had become “the” thing in France. Rich people commissioned paintings and sculptures to be made for all sorts of reasons. This once for instance, was comminssioned by a Knight (while he was alive) to represent his peaceful corpse body being carried by weepers upon his death. The intention was to have this piece honor him once he died.

This is another such piece which would not draw a second glance. However, the history behind this piece is quite fascinating. This sculpture was commissioned to be made by a queen on the death of her husband and held his heart in the spherical casket held by the white ladies.

Germans are really tall!

sometimes you can just make out the origin of the art by observing its dimensions…like these HUGE figures here are definitely from Germany!

Fable

Tanvi Saraf — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 20:27:14 +0000

Said a tiger to a lion as they drank beside a pool, “Tell me, why do you roar like a fool?”. “That’s not foolish,” replied the lion with a twinkle in his eyes. “They call me king of all the beasts because I advertise”. A rabbit heard them talking and ran home like a streak. He thought he would try a lion’s plan, but his roar was a squeak. A fox came to investigate – and had his lunch in the woods.

The moral: When you advertise, be sure you’ve got the goods!

10 Bites of Heaven I had on Earth…

Tanvi Saraf — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 22:31:14 +0000

(and now I think I’m in hell called IIMB MESS!)

1) Sushi with Wasabi
2) Creme brulee
3) Navarin of Lamb
4) Pomphret Fry
5) Jamun (with namak)
6) Flan
7) Turkish Delight
8 ) Dhokla (only the way my mom makes it)
9) Sol Curry
10) Sea weed (I know this one is weird but everyone has their quirks)

Entrepreneurs and Day-dreams

Tanvi Saraf — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 21:59:35 +0000

23 entrepreneurs and 11 daydreams later, it’s finally official – the entrepreneurship bug has finally bit me. I never intended this to happen and I never thought that it would happen to ME of all people, but in some ways, it’s satisfying. How can you study business all the time and never dream of creating it yourself? I’d like to think that you’re not nearly half an MBA if you haven’t thought about it (seriously) atleast once.

BUT, I have my self-doubts…

All entrepreneurs I’ve spoken to concur on one thing – they swear by this as if it were the holy grail of entrepreneurship: Never-ever-ever do it for money. Now this really worries me. Because I can’t understand how I could have been a very happy banker and hope to be an even happier entrepreneur at the same time.

All my ideas are centrered on food, clothes or indulgent products and services. Does this mean I’m a lifetstyle person? And if I am a lifestyle person, then how can money not be important in the scheme of things…I need it to have a lifestyle!

And at the end of the day, is it really so much about talent or is it more like a game of poker? You can easily out-muscle others if you have enough capital ( larger buy-in in case of poker), you need to wait for a good hand to win and just keep playing until you get it (good “idea” in case of entrepreneurship) and success in both poker and entrepreneurship is based a lot on luck. So if entrepreneurship does indeed sound so much like poker, does it mean that I am gambling my life away by becoming an entrepreneur?

Or is entreprenership like Creme brulee; something which sounds exotic and exciting, tastes like heaven if you have just a spoonful, but makes you sick to the stomach if you have it the entire day, day after day?

The Zero Sum Game

Tanvi Saraf — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 04:33:59 +0000

Ever since I read Liar’s Poker, traders have attained instant stardom in my world. But sometimes I wonder….

Considering that trading is a zero sum game, for you to make money, someone has to lose some. Now if a trader is sitting at his desk, facing a couple of Bloomberg terminals, all the banks and brokers trading on the other side clump into inanimate mass of blinking lights on his screen. He probably doesn’t feel a thing for them.

But what if he needs someone to take an opposite position for his trade, an exposure which he can’t offload through his screen because the trade is too complex? Then he needs real people on the other side, investors he can actually see, with their faces and their careers and their wives. And he knows… that in all probability, he is going to make millions on the trade, and in order for that to happen, the people on the other side, unfortunately need to lose that much.

How far can he go then for that one number which sort of gives meaning to a trader’s existence, i.e. his year-end P/L?

Now this is not a retributive post about a bunch of greedy traders who the world feels have got it all wrong. It’s not in my place to be judgmental – which is why I would like to introduce the concept of moral relativity.

Fabrice Tourre (the Goldman Sachs trader who has been charged with a suit for taking his clients for a ride) wrote to his girlfriend a couple of emails which more or less conveyed the following:

I’ve created this fantastic complex structure…
Even I don’t have a fair idea of the risks involved…
I do know that it’s going to tumble on its face soon…
But I don’t feel too guilty…
I also managed to sell it to a couple of widows and orphans I met at the airport.

So was the guy a jerk? Or was he relatively moral?

Consider this: German non-vegetarians rarely feel guilty but Indian non-vegetarian often do. Which is why I suppose they follow rituals such as not eating meat on Saturdays and Thursdays to wash off the sins they have accumulated over the rest of the week.

I don’t think the Nazi prison guards suffered from guilt pangs when they existed. They were doing what they were supposed to do…it was their job. And I am also sure that they would have howled at their crimes if they were re-born today and saw what they had done in the past.

Morality is not absolute, it’s relative. It’s dependent on time, on geography and on profession.

So if the Sebi alleges that Tourre is guilty, will he also be guilty inside the Goldman Sachs office, or while walking along Wall Street?

P.S: (I think) he’s guilty.

I was born Intelligent but did Education Ruin Me?

Tanvi Saraf — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 06:59:32 +0000

Some years back, I worked with the National Innovation Foundation (NIF) – the organization’s mandate was to identify low cost innovations by villagers which had the potential to become commercial successes and arrange for their mass manufacture. These villagers had manufactured machines/devices to make their day-to-day lives easier. In several cases, however, these machines were an answer to the complications in several peoples’ lives.

I was awestruck to see the raw talent and passion in rural areas; these villagers despite being uneducated had applied the most fundamental concepts of pulleys, power, focal lengths, etc to come up with simple yet ingenious solutions. I doubt if I could have come up with such things, despite having these kind of concepts hammerered into my mind time and again while at school and IIT.

A very simple yet beautiful example: One man attached 2 round pieces of magnifying glass on a spectacle frame and attached 2 screws on the side. The screws enabled the glasses to move forwards and backwards while attached to the frame, thus creating glasses of different focal lengths. So basically now you could have a pair of spectacles costing as low as Rs. 50 and you had completely cut out the doctors and the eye technicians from the picture. Standard Chartered funded this innovation and it is now on its way to being sold to hundreds of villagers with eyesight problems.

Super 30

Tanvi Saraf — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 18:04:56 +0000

Bihar may be deemed as a sick state but it sometimes does churn out astonishingly smart and hard working students. Super 30 is a group of 30 extremely bright students taken from the most backward and poverty struck families in Bihar to be coached for the IIT-JEE. Along with free coaching, these students are also provided free lodging and food. This centre is run and coached by a mathematician by the name of Anand Kumar, who himself was deprived of an opportunity to pursue higher education at Cambridge because he couldn’t afford it. In 2008, Super 30 had a 100% success rate – i.e. all its 30 students successfully cleared the IIT-JEE. Infact, the Super 30 has had the highest conversion rate among all the JEE coaching institutes in the country for several years now.

This year, the story is likely to be quite different. All because the exam administrators (IIT Chennai) messed up the Hindi version of the exam this year. An entire question (of significant weightage) was missing. I don’t expect a re-test to be conducted – I have noticed in these kind of institutes a conspicuous aversion to owning up for their mistakes and rectifying them – be it about goofups in course grading, conducting or setting exams or running important processes. Afterall, a solution just makes the mistake come into the limelight.