My obsession for Quality
My obsession for quality encompasses many things. It all originated from my desire to sketch and paint, and the passion for looking at anything as an art piece. It could be the way my launderer presses my attire or the spoken language many a folk resort to. I would bite fingers if I see those intolerable quality of Indian products and those badly laid roads and our dirties precincts. I am always attracted towards quality and quality conscious people. Quality and art are intertwined. It is magical word, it’s a passion, but its awful when I am denied it. It irritates me. My eyes always wander for finesse and grace in everything. When it come to my family I always insists my children to do their daily rituals neatly. Wanting to buy a guitar I went into a Musical shop which had an array of Indian musical instruments. I remember during my college days when I had bought an Indian guitar, the shopkeeper somehow sold it to me. But my conscience said that the workmanship was awfully poor, som