indian shopping: a culture of chaos

Crowds, clutter, cacophony—these are the defining characteristics of shopping in India. Or to borrow a concept from Clotaire Rapaille’s book, The Culture Code: An Ingenious Way to Understand Why People Around the World Live and Buy as They Do, the Indian “culture code” for shopping in India is Chaos. In fact, taking the Indian shopper out of chaos is like taking a fish out of water. We feel at home in the hustle bustle of local markets and start having withdrawal symptoms in a structured sterile atmosphere

Delhi’s Khan Market is an upscale reinterpretation of the bazaar. It is as upscale as it gets in traditional retail—commanding India’s highest retail real estate rental, and attracting a steady stream of high-value shoppers—and yet there is nothing upscale about its physical reality. Neat, clean, structured, streamlined, refined, aesthetically pleasing or even pleasant-smelling—these are not words that you can associate with the Khan Market experience. What you have instead is a full frontal assault on the senses, the constant refrain of honking cars circling the perimeter, a jam-packed disorderly parking lot, merchandise spilling on to the sidewalks, walls lined with foreign magazines, a bangle-and-bindi-wallah’s stall juxtaposed alongside a store that sells designer sunglasses, uneven dusty back lanes where you have to watch your step. In the midst of this haphazard retail madness are charming stores and cafés tucked up tiny winding staircases—delightful, whimsical, providing that rush of discovery, each one unique in character. This is the chaotic Indian version of the quaint and trendy West Village in New York.

Now let’s switch tracks to luxury brands in India, which inhabit the other end of the spectrum, ensconced in beautiful shopping malls, high ceilings, wide corridors, stores neatly lined up with glass fronts, the merchandise pre-edited and displayed like pieces of art in a gallery. There is no chaos here, no clutter, no cacophony, and as yet, no crowds—there is instead the highly controlled, air-conditioned, squeaky-clean, serene setting of a modern luxury mall like DLF Emporio in Delhi or UB City in Bangalore or the Grand Hyatt Plaza in Mumbai. These malls are purpose-built to provide a sumptuous environment for luxury brands, but the piquant question that the Khan Market experience raises is this: If the culture code for shopping in India is “Chaos”, would luxury brands benefit from recognizing and leveraging it?

Most luxury professionals would baulk at even having “luxury” and “chaos” mentioned in the same sentence. Admittedly Khan Market is not quite luxury in the traditional sense, but if Good Earth can sell Manish Arora crockery, Ogaan has a line-up of Indian designers, and Amrapali stocks high-end jewellery, we are in the luxury ballpark, talking to the same consumer who has both the means and the inclination to buy luxury. In which case, why not bring the mountain to Mohammed? In other words, bring Western luxury brands to traditional high-end markets such as Khan Market—or South Extension or Greater Kailash or equivalent ones in other cities—embracing the vibrant chaos and the well-heeled crowds that come with it

Even in the new luxury malls springing up, I would make a case for incorporating the comforting elements of chaos. Instead of the rarefied atmosphere of a luxury cathedral, create the merry hustle bustle of a Hindu temple. Instead of awe-inspiring interiors, create warm and inviting ones. Instead of wide-open spaces, intimate ones. Instead of minimalist displays, lush ones. Instead of the cookie-cutter sameness, uniqueness and character.

Incorporate a whiff of Khan Market, allow the thrill of discovery, make room for whimsy and charm. Create luxurious chaos.

Ayn Rand:the propagation of immorality

Herewith, a few excerpts from the Rand collection.
• “It was the morality of altruism that undercut American and is now destroying her.”
• “Capitalism and altruism are incompatible; they are philosophical opposites; they cannot co-exist in the same man or in the same society. Today, the conflict has reached its ultimate climax; the choice is clear-cut: either a new morality of rational self-interest, with its consequence of freedom…or the primordial morality of altruism with its consequences of slavery, etc.”
• Then from one of her arias for heldentenor: “I am done with the monster of ‘we,’ the word of serfdom, of plunder, of misery, falsehood and shame. And now I see the face of god, and I raise this god over the earth, this god whom men have sought since men came into being, this god who will grant them joy and peace and pride. This god, this one word: ‘I.’”
• “The first right on earth is the right of the ego. Man’s first duty is to himself.”
• “To love money is to know and love the fact that money is the creation of the best power within you, and your passkey to trade your effort for the effort of the best among men.”
• “The creed of sacrifice is a morality for the immoral….”

This odd little woman is attempting to give a moral sanction to greed and self interest, and to pull it off she must at times indulge in purest Orwellian newspeak of the “freedom is slavery” sort. What interests me most about her is not the absurdity of her “philosophy,” but the size of her audience .She has a great attraction for simple people who are puzzled by organized society, who object to paying taxes, who dislike the “welfare” state, who feel guilt at the thought of the suffering of others but who would like to harden their hearts. For them, she has an enticing prescription: altruism is the root of all evil, self-interest is the only good, and if you’re dumb or incompetent that’s your lookout.

She is fighting two battles: the first, against the idea of the State being anything more than a police force and a judiciary to restrain people from stealing each other’s money openly. She is in legitimate company here. There is a reactionary position which has many valid attractions, among them lean, sinewy, regular-guy Barry Goldwater. But it is Miss Rand’s second battle that is the moral one. She has declared war not only on Marx but on Christ. Now, although my own enthusiasm for the various systems evolved in the names of those two figures is limited, I doubt if even the most anti-Christian free-thinker would want to deny the ethical value of Christ in the Gospels. To reject that Christ is to embark on dangerous waters indeed. For to justify and extol human greed and egotism is to my mind not only immoral, but evil. For one thing, it is gratuitous to advise any human being to look out for himself. You can be sure that he will. It is far more difficult to persuade him to help his neighbor to build a dam or to defend a town or to give food he has accumulated to the victims of a famine. But since we must live together, dependent upon one another for many things and services, altruism is necessary to survival. To get people to do needed things is the perennial hard task of government, not to mention of religion and philosophy. That it is right to help someone less fortunate is an idea which ahs figured in most systems of conduct since the beginning of the race. We often fail. That predatory demon “I” is difficult to contain but until now we have all agreed that to help others is a right action. Now the dictionary definition of “moral” is: “concerned with the distinction between right and wrong” as in “moral law, the requirements to which right action must conform.” Though Miss Rand’s grasp of logic is uncertain, she does realize that to make even a modicum of sense she must change all the terms. Both Marx and Christ agree that in this life a right action is consideration for the welfare of others. In the one case, through a state which was to wither away, in the other through the private exercise of the moral sense. Miss Rand now tells us that what we have thought was right is really wrong. The lesson should have read: One for one and none for all.

It is revealing that as Rand refined her idea of the heroic personality from the Howard Roark of The Fountainhead to John Galt in Atlas Shrugged, the type became steadily drained of, indeed, personality. Galt seems little better than a robotic mouthpiece of merciless ideology. Howard Roark was already peculiar enough, since he would just sit staring at the phone while waiting for work. He might at least have read magazines. Subsidiary characters, like Hank Rearden and Dagny Taggart, possess something more like real personalities. This deadness of such central characters is an excellent warning that Rand had passed beyond a desire for mere human beings as her ideals. (Jung probably would have detected an animus projection.) This was an unhelpful bit of falseness, not to mention humorlessness, with which to burden her case for capitalism.

Ayn Rand’s “philosophy” is nearly perfect in its immorality, which makes the size of her audience all the more ominous and symptomatic as we enter a curious new phase in our society. Moral values are in flux. The muddy depths are being stirred by new monsters and witches from the deep. Trolls walk the American night. Caesars are stirring in the Forum. There are storm warnings ahead. But to counter trolls and Caesars, we have such men as Lewis Mumford whose new book, The City in History, inspires. He traces the growth of communities from Neolithic to present times. He is wise. He is moral: that is, he favors right action and he believes it possible for us to make things better for us (not “me”!). He belongs to the currently unfashionable line of makers who believe that if something is wrong it can be made right, whether a faulty water main or a faulty idea. May he flourish!

On Tagore's anniversary....

From renovating Tagore auditoria, establishing new ones in major cities, publishing a book on his paintings to running a special train to Dhaka, the government has drawn up several plans to perpetuate the legacy of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore to mark his 150Th birth anniversary.

Tagore,the first Nobel laureate Of India and a phenomena in his own has been a pandemic idea throughout eastern India and Bangladesh but the western world mainly Europe has now forgotten this charisma it once reverberated with.They simply don't read him anymore nor do the India progeny of the west who are more enlivened by levis and twilight than Gitanjali. The west has long ago declared Tagore as the 'bright pebbly eyes of the Theosophists' and has disgraced his contemporary thinking by referring it as a descent of Hinduism and a flow from Ganges.That's what the West does the best....Europe has Americanised and America has probably Mars-ianised.Yes,I shall keep a patriotic tone on his 150Th anniversary.

If Tagore had been a religious thinker and that too a Hindu by vision then it baffles me how Bangladesh which is mainly a Muslim state adopt his song "amar sonar bangla" as its national anthem.London has honoured and rejected Tagore but Indians need to realise the embodiment of mosaic of thoughts,colours and ideas Tagore represents.

It is indispensable to talk of Tagore and not of his distinction with Gandhi,the two foremost thinkers of all time.Nehru said on the death of Tagore "It is not so much because of any single virtue but because of the tout ensemble,that i felt that among the world's great men today Gandhi and Tagore were supreme human beings.What good fortune for me to have come in close contact with them"Tagore and Gandhi were both admirers of each other but differed in the way of thinking about issues like nationalism,internationalism,patriotism with Tagore's view being more of a logic based and less of a conventional nationalist-but India need Gandhi's emotional chauvinism with the nation more than the Tagore's pragmatism and unparochial outlook which is what India has post 1991.Tagore's political thought was complex. He opposed imperialism and supported Indian nationalists. His views have their first poetic release in Manast, mostly composed in his twenties.Evidence produced during the Hindu-German conspiracy trial and later accounts affirm his awareness of the Ghadarite conspiracy, and stated that he sought the support of Japanese Prime Minister and former Premier . Yet he lampooned the Swadeshi movement, denouncing it in "The Cult of the Charka", an acrid 1925 essay. He emphasized self-help and intellectual uplift of the masses as an alternative, stating that British imperialism was a "political symptom of our social disease", urging Indians to accept that "there can be no question of blind revolution, but of steady and purposeful education".Such views enraged many. He narrowly escaped assassination by Indian expatriates during his stay in a San Francisco hotel in late 1916. The plot failed only because the would-be assassins fell into argument. Yet Tagore wrote songs lionizing the Indian independence movement and renounced his knighthood in protest against the 1919 Jallianwala bagh massacre. Two of Tagore's more politically charged compositions, "chitto jettha bhayashunyo" ("Where the Mind is Without Fear") and "ekla chalo re" ("If They Answer Not to Thy Call, Walk Alone"), gained mass appeal, with the latter favoured by Gandhi. Despite his tumultuous relations with Gandhi, Tagore was key in resolving a Gandhi-Ambedkar dispute involving separate electorates for untouchables, ending Gandhi's fast "unto death".

Tagore lampooned rote schooling: in "The Parrot's Training", a bird is caged and force-fed pages torn from books until it dies.These views led Tagore, while visiting Santa Barbara on 11 October 1917, to conceive of a new type of university, desiring to "make Santiniketan the connecting thread between India and the world [and] a world center for the study of humanity somewhere beyond the limits of nation and geography."Here, Tagore implemented a brahmacharya pedagogical structure employing gurus to provide individualised guidance for pupils. Tagore worked hard to fund raise for and staff the school, even contributing all of his Nobel Prize money. Tagore’s duties as steward and mentor at Santiniketan kept him busy; he taught classes in mornings and wrote the students' textbooks in afternoons and evenings.Tagore also fundraised extensively for the school in Europe and the U.S. between 1919 and 1921

Tagore was not only a creative genius, he was a great man and friend to many. For instance, he was also a good friend from childhood to the great Indian Physicist, Bose.Tagore had a good grasp of modern - post-Newtonian - physics, and was well able to hold his own in a debate with Einstein in 1930 on the newly emerging principles of quantum mechanics and chaos. His meetings and tape recorded conversations with his contemporaries such Albert Einstein stand as cultural landmarks, and show the brilliance of this great man.

Rabindranath lived in one of the southern rooms on the ground floor of Udayan. After his illness he had become susceptible to heat, so an air conditioner had been installed in his bedroom. The room was not large. On one side a long table stood against the wall with its rows of medicine bottles, tonics, glasses. There was a bed, an armchair, some books in a small bookcase, and a few leather-stuffed cane stools for visitors. On the walls hung a couple of his own pictures, the picture of a horse by the Chinese artist Ju Peon, and a Japanese cloud-filled landscape. Beside it, there was another smaller room. The whole world: all the world's mountains vistas oceans and cities, all life's togetherness and loneliness, today, for the poet was confined within these two rooms and the two verandas on the sides.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up
into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason
has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action---
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Excerpt from Gitanjali.....

the big chill cafe:lets die fat!

Ever wished to dine in with Alfred Hitchcock or Casablanca or Johnny Depp.....this is the place to look out for.The cafe started out in 2000 with its first outlet in East of Kailash,with Italian cuisine and an ice-cream cafe. Presently, it has four outlets, one in Kailash colony market, the original East of Kaliash outlet was closed, two in Khan market and DLF Place Saket.

I would refrain from commenting on outlets other than the Khan market because I haven't visited the others.I landed to Big chill cafe 3 years ago with recommendation buzzing in my ears.Those were the times when i used to get frustrated with the mundane college life and set out explore the capital to gather some peace of mind and savour the bliss of solitude(introvert,huh?)

When you enter the restaurant, you feel that you have been teleported to a film arcade as there are framed posters of all movies imaginable covering the walls. You aren’t allowed to take pictures of it though, I found out.Its firstly the decor that hits you. Its absolutely fantastic.The husband - wife duo who own the place have actually collected a lot of these during their stay in London and then ordered the rest from various poster places. Very very innovative idea and so fresh compared to the regular dimly lit punjabi restaurants that we see in Delhi.So take in the posters of movies like ‘ Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, sharing space with numerous framed Coke ads of various vintages. Make sure you spend time looking through those posters as a tribute to the labour of love of the owners. The name of the restaurant has been inspired by the movie ‘Big Chill’ and its large poster beckons- “What would the world be like without your friends and loved ones? ” and to put it simply that sets the tone of the place.

The food: Oh Lordy! The food. Their tomato basil soup is to die for as are a lot of their pastas and pizzas. but the real winner is their desserts. People - TRUST ME - really - if you’re on a diet or need to refrain from sweet - don’t go. The chocolate squidgy cake (my all time favourite) is just divine! Some of my friends are more partial to the ice creams(the chocolate super fudge has been known to break many a diets) and cheese cakes.

Among the main course - the best Pizza’s would surely be the ’Chickonara’ and the ’Four Fourths’. They have a ’non commercial, homely’ feel about them. The cheese used in the Pizza’s is good and consistent in quality. The chickonara is a chicken lovers BONANZA. A must try....The pastas are great 99% of thr time, although I’ve had a sneaky suspicion that I’ve been served with stale pasta on more than one occasion in the past! The meatball pasta and spaghetti bolognaise are the best.Their espresso coffee is definitely good, and has a solid, full bodied flavour and medium acidity. Best enjoyed without sugar!!! As an accompaniment to the pasta’s or pizza’s, try their signature style of Ginger Fizz, which is excellent.If you want to grab a sweet dish after a meal, try the Chocolate Truffle Cake or the Chocolate Decadence cake

All in all-go there-if for nothing else then for the mouth watering mudpie and sqidgy cakes.You will die fatter but oh!so much happier:)......Prices are rather high, but you definitely get your money’s worth. The Big Chill is my favourite restaurant in Delhi and is only rivalled by the All-American Diner and It’s Greek To Me, two other amazing eating joints. You cannot live in or visit this city without making a trip to this haven of culinary delights. There’s nothing more I can say, except: believe the hype. And, of course, bon appetit!

the murder of Mr. English...

Once upon a time,there was a certain Mr. English and he was escorted to the land of Lalu by a certain East India Company in three piece suit and hat with vision of Guest's paradise and thoughts of personal growth.Decades passed and he faced calamity after catastrophe after crucifixion and now he is reduced to tattered, minimal clothes.

YES, Indian wannabes and cool-ers(or errs?) have developed their own idiosyncratic version of English and with no grammar police and no Mr. sentence correction,we have reduced English to.....

"but exactly yaad nahin raha"

"its time to think HATKE"

"chill maar yaar"

"aur bata,wassup with you"

"stud,hai yaar"

And according to Professor David Crystal, it might not be long before this becomes the Queen’s new English. He says that there are more than 350 million Indians who widely use Hinglish in their daily lives as a common mode of communication. This number is far beyond the total number of people speaking in English, both in the United States and the United Kingdom.

So the face-book-ers(or errs?) and orkut-ers,have developed their own "eaasy-peezy,lemon-squeezy" avatar of the language and william and william are in deep distress,popping up pills at night.What led to the emergence of this concept? Firstly, Indians are known to be the brainiest in the world. There are people who might debate on this statement…but it is a fact! Indians are found in every part of the world. And so, with Indians come the Indian language which obviously is mixed with the local language. This local language in most cases turns out to be English.
Secondly, connecting with the world has its own perks! The Indian culture is slowly and steadily gaining popularity outside the subcontinent. These mainly include Bollywood movies which have been found to be quite amusing, thanks to its song and dance sequences. These movies are a good source of Hinglish.
Thirdly, with the advent of globalization, Internet was introduced to Indians. With Internet came online social networking in the form of Orkut scraps, emails, chats which introduced us all to another form of Hinglish. This included using English script as a medium to communicate in Hindi. A few years back, this trend might have seemed to be very weird and probably quite difficult to comprehend to what is being communicated. This is the most common form of Hinglish used by one and all. This is to such an extent that there are some who find it quite a task to actually read in Hindi. And so, it is not very hard to believe that Hinglish would soon spread through the Internet.
In India, English has had and still enjoys a status in itself. This is due to the Colonial history that the country has.

And we need some chauvinists and critics to cut the "crap".The rising popularity of this metamorphosed and genetically damaged Mr. English can put a permanent veil on our own languages.

So let english be english and let us take pride in the fact that Rabindranath tagore won nobel by writing in Bengali.We actually don't need this desperate "sms-chat" mess up of the universal language.

yodleeeyooo-a walk down kishore's lane

Kishore was a singer,actor, director and composer, rolled into one. His was also a comic spirit, both on the screen and off it. He even indulged in clowning. But a clown is not all laughter. There is a pang in his heart, a sob in his throat or a tear in his eye. If Kishore could rattle off "Main hoon jhumroo", he could also chant movingly "Door gagan ki chhaon mein".

Born on 4th August 1929 in a middle class home at Khandwa, Kishore Da was the youngest .As a young boy, Kishore was full of mischief and pranks. He loved to play and almost never tired of seeking amusements. Kishore was very close to his sister, who appreciated his sense of humour. Though the interaction with his eldest brother was minimal as Ashok Kumar left to study law after graduating in science. He met his brother occasionally when Ashok used to come to visit the family. Though Kishore went to a prominent school at Khandwa, he was never interested and he hated reading books and having to learn under a discipline that seemed to curb his natural steam.
Kishore Kumar used to sing for his parents and they would give him money as a small token. His father often asked him to sing Ashok Kumar’s song from the movie Achut Kanya. (Main ban ki chidya .. bolun re..). Kishoreda was good at imitating and this was near to perfect when it came to singing K.L.Saigal’s songs. K.L.Saigal turned out to be his mentor and meeting him was his wish at the top of his mind. Sadly, the meeting with Saigal did not take place, for Saigal died soon after Kishore’s arrival in Mumbai.

Kumar disliked acting and instead wanted to become a leading singer . However, he didn’t have any formal training in singing or music. Through his brother Ashok’s contacts in the industry Kumar did though make his debut in films – initially failing to make an impression. But he continued acting, which allowed him to sing on the soundtracks of the films. At this stage of his career, Kumar’s style was derivative of K. L. Saigal’s. Once, Sachin Dev Burman came to Ashok Kumar’s house and heard what sounded like K. L. Saigal’s voice coming out of the bathroom. Impressed, S. D. Burman asked Ashok who was singing. Hearing the answer, he waited until Kishore Kumar had finished bathing. He had a little talk with Kumar during which he expressed his appreciation of his singing but advised,
"Don’t try to ape K. L. Saigal. Apers never make great artists. You should develop your own singing style."
After this, Kumar developed his own trademark singing style, which was completely different from the styles of Rafi, Mukesh and Saigal. He used to yodel in many of his songs. Sachin Dev Burman became his mentor and guide. S D Burman, who had never heard yodelling before, used to call it gala tod ke gaana (‘break-throat singing’). Yodelling became Kishore’s trademark, and the media described his singing style as “yodelling at the moon”.

categorizing kishore is like limiting fragrance but i will pick my 10 favourite kishore songs....

1.tum aa gaye ho noor aa gaya hai
2.chalte chalte mere ye geet yaad rakhna
3.dilbar mere
4.rim jhim gire saawan
5.Phoolon Ke Rang Se
6.Oh Mere Dil Ke Chain
7. Ek Ajnabi, Hasina Se, Yun Mulaqaat, Ho Gayi
8.Khai Ke Paan Banaaras Wala
9.jaanejan dhoondta phir rahan
10.pal pal dil ke paas

kabhi raastein aasaan hote toh safar se berukhi kam hoti,
kuch tum tak pahunchte lafz milte toh khud se shikaytein kam hoti,
kabhi ek do saaz toote na hote toh zindagi se khamoshi kam hoti,
kuch tum tak kadam aur chalte toh khud se tanhaaiyaan kam hoti.....

some light on Twilight...

Make no mistake....been touted as the next herculean success after Harry Potter,Twilight series surely is something to look out.BUT....wait a second!vampires....fine! whirlwind romance with the beautiful, perfect vampire Edward...fine! who apparently has teeth that make Donny Osmond look like Mr. Tooth Decay....fine!countless, breathless descriptions of Edward’s teeth...fine! adjectives like a bartender who forgot to put the regulator on the vodka bottle....now come one!give me a break.Few chapters into the first book and devoid of girlish hormones that cringe and crave for a romantic morality tale,you like me too will be bamboozled by the fact that this is the book that Potter is competing with.

Popularity is not an honest reflection of quality and Twilight proves just that.....in the hindsight its just a potpourri fable with ingredients like vampire and submissive characters and relationships.Meyer’s Mormon upbringing certainly comes through in the book, as Bella and Edward’s wild, passionate romance entails all but a few brief lip brushes, kisses that make Bella either faint or lose control of her senses....and you just thought indian movies are stupid!!!
ok...it has been called as 'erotics of abstinence'........ There’s a scene midway through Twilight in which, for the first time, Edward leans in close and sniffs the aroma of Bella’s exposed neck. “Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet,” he says. “You have a very floral smell, like lavender … or freesia.” .....if you are a guy,never try this line on a girl because you will enchance your single-hood and please,if you are a girl,what will you do if some guy comes up with this line....laugh on his face??

Bella was supposedly to be presented as a tough minded and independent girl but....Her absolute dependence on Edward to even breathe – she can barely exist when she’s out of his sight line – is both worrisome and disturbing. Her every thought is about him. Her every movement is dictated by her obsession with him. She throws herself at him to the extent that she is willing to be turned into a vampire just to spend eternity with him. Edward plays on all Bella’s emotions like a man who gets off on adoration. He follows her, he appears in her room at night, he listens in, telepathically, on her friends’ conversations. He is there in every dangerous situation brought on by Bella’s clumsiness to rescue her and make her feel like she just could not make it another day alive without his knighthood. I don’t know about you, but over here we call that stalking. Yet Bella seems unperturbed by Edward’s hovering and unflinchingly goes headlong into a dangerous, life threatening, almost one sided romance with him.

To be really honest,even when Edward does fall in love with Bella,it looks more like an emotion crying in despair out of inquisivity and surprise.Bella sees Edward as a typical teenage girl sees a rock star or movie star; she swoons, she idolizes, she fantasizes. Edward knows this and nearly teases her with it. Yet Bella never sees this. Rather, Meyer never gives Bella the awareness needed to see the relationship for what it is.

For me twilight is more of a svlvan prose and idyllic poetry....sung by a person devoid of Edward's charismatic powers and heroic antics and...yeah,yeah...teeth!!Gosh...there are way better love stories out ther.Give yourself a chance...