Shaken and Stirred

Last week I had a minor surgery on my right hand. A 20 minute operation with local anaesthesia. I guess I am fine now as I am able to type this post out. A little nagging pain but more or less, fine.

I reached the hospital around 9 in the morning when the doctor had one look at my hand and advised a minor surgery which I decided to take it that day itself. I was not told what time my surgery was scheduled and hence I sat in the operating theatre reception room from 11 to 4, till I was called in. In that period, almost every ward boy and nurse asked me who I was waiting for. They could not hide their surprise when I told them that I was the patient and had no one with me. I guess they were not used to seeing patients, that too for a surgery, alone.

Any ways, I went in to the theatre, lay on the table, had local anaesthesia administered, chit chatted with the surgeons while they were operating on me, completed the surgery, purchased the prescribed medicines and walked home.

The fun started an hour later when the effect of the anaesthesia started to wear off. I pride myself on being able to withstand a lot of pain. A wrist fracture, a wired ankle bone, a toe surgery and innumerable muscle tears, sprains and ligament injuries can make a person capable of bearing quite a bit of pain. But that day was something different.

I was alone at home when the pain started. It was acute, sharp, piercing and unbearable. I moved from one bed to another, from bed to sofa and from the sofa finally to the floor. I decided to have painkillers but I could not have them on an empty stomach. The only thing which was there at home on that day was maggi. I somehow managed to tear the packet open with my left hand and teeth and put some maggi to boil on the stove. By now the pain had reached alarming proportions. I was contemplating morphine injections, if only I knew where to find them and get a prescription for them. The maggi was done. The challenge was now to empty the cooked noodles from the pan onto the plate with only one hand. And somewhere in this process I burnt my left hand. A minor burn. But that was the tipping point. I gave in. I yelled loudly in pain. I don't know how I finished my maggi, but I did. I took my painkillers and lay on the bed. They were of little use.

Suddenly all un-nice memories start to flood me. I remember being surprised by those thoughts as I did not even know that they existed in my unconscious memory. They made me sadder and sharpened my pain. I decided to summon my own 'Patronus' by thinking of happy memories and happy times. I did conjure up happy scenes with my friends around. But most of them were happy when they occurred then, but not necessarily now. Suddenly all those events and memories which I had locked up in the recesses of my mind and had apparently forgotten came back to me, like a deluge when the floodgates are opened.

I gave up and caved in. I was physically and emotionally battered. I guess the painkillers did have their effect in a while and I slept off to wake up the next day morning. The pain had subsided substantially. Though I had to train my left hand to brush, I did manage to make coffee and was feeling better. But the ghosts of the past had come back to haunt and that was not something that I could easily forget.

I am much better and relaxed now. But many a times, these days, the calm facade, is just that - a facade. It is similar to a duck swimming in a pond. People can only see the grace and poise, but they fail to notice the near desperate paddling happening underneath the surface. But I know - This shall also pass.

Restlessness settled!

What follows is part 3 . Read part 1 and part 2 .

Dear Anand,

I know that it would have been a huge shock to you when those divorce papers were given to you. And you have been trying to talk to me for the past month now, but I have avoided all contact with you. This last one month of solitude and soul searching has helped a lot. I felt that I was just submerged in every day events that I did not know where my life was headed. I needed some time alone to do all this thinking. Some space, if I may call it so.

You are a good kid Anand and we had some good times together. Anand, you would remember that one night, I told you about the things that I wanted the most. Some of them were things, which if I pursued, would have put a strain on our marriage. But what you do not know Anand, that there are certain things that I hated the most. Like our freakishly disciplined lifestyle.

This past one month has taught me one very important thing. Sometimes, the things that we hate the most can also become the very same things that we miss the most. Anand, I know I have made a mistake. I just hope that it isn't late. I have so much to tell you, and that is exactly what I want to do. ‘tell you'- talk to you. I can't make myself pick up the phone call you and start this conversation. (You would know that from the number of blank calls I gave you when we were dating). Just let me know its ok to call you, I will. I have an open ticket back to Madras with me and am willing to take tonight's flight. When you know that there is a better life waiting for you, you would want that to start right now, right?

Dying to hear from you.
love
Priya

She read the mail, re read the mail, re re read the mail, till she had almost memorized the words. She clicked on the read receipt option and clicked on the send mail button.

Priya shut the laptop, closed her eyes and leaned back on her chair taking a deep breath. She was livid with herself over the events in the past two months and how she had created the mess. The events replayed in her mind over and over again and she was unable to shut these thoughts out. She walked up to window, opened it and stuck her head. The icy winds of Chicago were almost piercingly cold. The sting made it physically impossible to let her thoughts wander. She had begun to like the few minutes she spent in the cold. She walked back to her laptop. She had a post ready for her anonymous blog where she had been pouring her heart out over the past two months.

A message from Anand was waiting for her. A strange feeling took over her. She was happy to have received a reply so soon, but the very thought of what could be in there, made her quiver.

Priya,

The thing I like about you most is that you were always strong willed and took bold decisions. Not necessarily the right ones always. Your decisions were centred on your happiness and what you felt was the best for you. I guess, that was fine when we were friends, and it was a small issue when we were dating. But I was sure that it would change post our wedding. Apparently not.

Kiddo, while you are in the process of soul searching, do consider what I have just said. If we are to get back together, we take decisions as 'we' and not 'I'. Having said that, this one decision whether to come back home should be solely yours.

Still Smittenly yours,
Anand

Priya picked up the phone, 'Hello, Yes hi, I have an open ticket to Chennai, India. When is the earliest availability?'

Serene

'Arun, drop me at the koil please.'

' Ma, Isn't God everywhere? Then why do you go to temples? '

'I am not goin to get into this arguement with you.'

'That is because you do not have a good enough reason. '

' Oh, is that what you think? Look, more often than not, temples are places where people leave negative thoughts out when they walk in. So the entire place is filled with positive vibrations. I feel happy when I go there.'

' Well, I cannot argue with that. As long as you do not tell me that you go there to earn religious currency, it is fine with me. If you do it to make yourself happy, thats good. '

' Good. That closes this topic. Now drop me at the temple. '
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Arun was reversing his car after dropping his mother, when he saw her parking her scooty. He just could not take his eyes off her. A sense of calm prevailed on her face.

She was in a hurry. She was buying 'archanai thattu', setting her hair after removing her helmet, answering a call on the cell and removing her slippers all at the same time. Yet, she seemed so much in control. Grace. Yes, that is the word. There was grace in all her movements.

Arun, parked the car and followed her into the temple. He caught her skipping as she washed her legs and walked through the hot parankallu to enter the sannidhi. A small token thoppukaranam later, she scampered into a small hall in the side of the temple.

Arun,entered the hall to find himself in the middle of a lecture,where a Swamiji was talking to the gathering which was predominantly grey and white-haired. As Arun turned to leave, the Swamiji paused and said, 'It is nice to see even the younger generation interested in our scriptures.' Arun turned back towards the hall, only to be greeted by over fifty pairs of eyes. He gave a sheepish grin and quickly seated himself on the nearest chair.

For the next 10 minutes Arun eyes scanned the hall for a her but could not spot her. The lecture ended and he was about to leave when he saw her at the other end of the room.

' Arun, what a surprise seeing you here.'

' Well, Ma, I was curious.'

'So, how did you find the lecture?'

' Well.. uh... hmm.... interesting, if I may say that.' Arun was desperately tryin to remember something from the lecture.

' Good. I am happy you liked it. '
---*--

'Ma, you are late. Let us go. '

' I am surprised Arun. I thought your interest would die down after the first lecture. But its been four weeks now and you are regular. '

'I have a question for you. After we die, depending on our karma and dharma, our souls either get moksha or there is reincarnation in some form right? '

'Well... I guess so. '

' Then, why do we regularly pray for the souls of our ancestors through various rituals when technically, their souls don't exist as their souls any more?'

'Hmm.. good question. Why don't you ask swamiji today? '

' Maybe I will. '

' I like this though. You are asking questions and you now seek to understand. This, even Arun had noticed.

Arun had seen the girl every week for the past four weeks. She must also be the philosophical kind. Today , he would speak to her.
--

'Today we shall talk about detached- attachment.' Swamiji's voice filled the hall.

Maybe she is late. The traffic is heavy today.

She never came.
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' Swamiji.. Swamiji..'

' Oh sorry, my child, what were you asking again? '

The disciple looked up at Sri Arun, who looked serene in his white flowing robes.

' How did you know that this was your path in life? Did you have an inspiration or a divine revelation?'

Sri Arun closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his eyes and replied, 'Inspiration and indication can come from unknown sources. Strange are the ways of the lord.'

Vinayaka Chaturthi

Vinayak or Ganesh Chaturthi, reminds me of my grandparents and my stay with them. I was brought up in Ranchi, Jharkhand and then moved to Bangalore, while my grand parents were always in Madras. So my interactions with my grand parents was generally restricted to the two month long summer vacations alone. (2 month long vacations... those were the days...) When I decided to move to Madras for engineering, I had the chance to stay with my grandparents for 3 years.

At first I found living with my grand parents difficult, for there were a lot of no-cannot-do things. There used to be a lot of pent up frustration, for I would never speak back or raise my voice, ever. But the longer I stayed with them, the more I began to appreciate their way of life. There was so much discipline and structure to their lives. At first I was not too fond of discipline, but when I realised that discipline gave rise to the structure, I began to enjoy the way of life.

My grandparents are pretty religious. (I do not know about myself, yet) So we used to celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi, Krishna Jayanthi, Diwali, Pongal etc at home. There would always be 'Poojai' at home. The run up to the date of the 'poojai' would be me going around the market buying flowers, 'arukam pul' (A kind of grass), fruits and so on. My granny would make the right savouries according to the function.

Among the festivals Ganesha Chaturthi was special because I would be asked to do the Poojai. I am not very ritualistic, but when I do take part, I am very sincere about it and try to do it in the 'right way'. So, on Ganesh chaturthi I would wake up early, have bath and start preparing for the poojai. I would not eat till the entire poojai was completed. I would try and do all the rituals properly, chant the mantras to the best of my abilities. Ofcourse, my grandfather would sit next to me and literally handhold me through the entire poojai. I should admit that I was pretty clueless the first year, but by the third year I was pretty good at it :)

To me, Ganesh Chaturthi was like a great bonding occasion. My grandfather would teach me the right way of doing the rituals. He would explain why certain things were done and what were the reasons. I pride myself on being the 'rational guy', so I would ask questions on the 'whys?' of everything and he would patiently explain, what he felt were the reasons. So the poojai that should take 45 minutes would take an hour and a half or more. My granny meanwhile would give my grandfather constant reminders that her grandson was foodless since dawn and that he should not be troubled so much. The poojai would then end and food would be served with those amazing Kozhakottais and jaggery payasam. But the conversation between me and my grandfather would continue onto religion, mythology, philosophy, scriptures, politics and so
on. And a few more kozhakattais would be gulped down. And then we would finally stop, because we all would want to catch a nice siesta after the heavy meal.

At the end of it all, I would be happy that I was successful in being a good grandson. My
grand father would be happy that everything went on well. I sometimes got the feeling that he felt happy also because he could pass on some of his knowledge and tradition down the family. And my grand mother would be happy that we had finished her yummy kozhakottais completely. And overall, I am sure Ganesha would have liked the way we celebrated his birthday.

I miss not being there for Ganesh Chaturthi with my grandparents. I was trying to figure out what exactly I missed? Was it the conversations, the ritual or the food. It then dawned upon me that it was a bit of everything. It was shopping for the veggies and fruits and flowers for the poojai. It definitely is the poojai itself where the grandson was trying to learn and impress his grand dad. It is the poojai again because my grandfather used to teach me with so much involvement,belief and faith that it was inspiring. And it definitely is the kozhakattais to complete the entire event.

Tomorrow is 'Ganesh Chaturthi'. And I am in Bombay, alone, missing those kozhakattais .*sigh*

Dreams

It is the promised land that I have dreamt of.

I bask in the Sunshine of Happiness; soaking-in the simple joys. Clouds of Desire shower me with the choicest of wishes. Gentle winds of content, sooth my fluttering soul.

My eyes scan the clear horizon, I see my path of purpose in front. Suddenly, I am not worried whether it is an oft taken path or a rarely taken one; Or whether I am trailing a path or pathing-a-trail. For it does not matter - Because it is 'my path'.

A voice bellows from the sky, 'Choose any one. The sun, the rain, the wind or the path. When you wake up its yours forever.' Without a pause, I shout back, ' No. Never. I do not want to stop dreaming!'

Friday Musings

I wanted to make my 'Friday Musings' a weekly thing. And given that I had written something for past 2 weeks, I did not want to break the rhythm. So I sat with my laptop in front of me for two hours last night. I started writing on some topic, deleted it, restarted on some other topic, deleted again and so on, till I was so drowsy that I slept off on my laptop.

I walked to office this morning through a light drizzle, thinking about the previous night when this thought struck me. So how does one know when to give up?

Whether it is writing a blog post, or working on a project you wanted to forever, but getting no where on it, or with certain people you wish who would listen more.

Till what time is getting out of something considered smart and at what point does it tip over to being little-too-late. When will you be called a smart guy for making the right decision and when will you have a quitter tag attached to you?

Its a complex question, atleast for me.

Friday Musings

It has been a peaceful week. I spent the first 3 days at home on a short break. All I did in those three days was eating and sleeping :)

Everybody grows up and moves out of their homes. That is the way of life. You set up your own place in a different city (or may be same) and start living your own life. Earlier (few decades ago), the postal service kept people abreast of each others lives. Later it became occasional phone call, and today the telecom revolution has ensured that I can call my mom to ask her how much salt to add for dal etc.

But whatever be the case, once out of home, you are disconnected. You have a parallel existence. And you feel this, not in the biggest family decisions (for you are involved there), but the small sundry things that you could have done. If I was home, I could drop my mom off at work and/or pick her up, so that she need not walk the awkward distance which no auto rickshaw would come. I could have been more involved in dad's projects, or maybe do the occasional grocery and veggie shopping on Sunday, so that he may get longer Sunday siestas. Or I could help my bro search for a final year project or maybe a few pointers for his preparations for the upcoming exams.

It is in this trip home that I realised that I will not be there to do any of this with the level of involvement that I was thinking of. It is in this trip that I realised that in the circle of life, I had finished a quarter. A strange realisation dawned upon me - I now have a life of my own.

Restlessness Galore!

'Priya, you are late. '

'Coming da. Two more minutes. There will always be enough time. We would still be 3 hours in advance.'

'But we never know how the traffic will be.'

'Relax, don't get worked up. We'll be in time. I am going to board the flight. If there is anyone who needs to get tensed, it should be me'

'Amma, Priya and me will leave now. I will be back by 2, 2.30. I have the keys, so you need not stay awake for me.'

'Hey, Can you wait for few minutes. We are expecting Mr. Rajamani. I want you and Priya to meet him. Just chat up with him for 5 minutes, your dad will be back anytime now. Then you can leave.'

' Ma, this is not fair.'

'It will not take more than 5 minutes. There goes the bell. It must be him. Go get the door'.

I walk to the door, visibly irritated. I was sure I was going to meet a gentleman who would be in his late 50s or early 60s. Someone who had retired recently and had moved back to Madras. He would have retired from a pretty decent position in the industry, would speak more of english than Tamil. He would ask me where I was working, do some polite conversation about the
future of the industry I was working in and then the future of India. The conversation would then invariably veer towards the horrible infrastructure and how the government is doing nothing. I surprised myself when I realised, how my mind ran through these thoughts in quick succession. Was I getting conditioned by the many polite conversations I was making at work?

Shutting my mind, I opened the door.

In front of me stood a gentleman, in early 60s. I welcomed him and was about to introduce myself when he said, ' I know who you are'. I looked at him and blinked.

As he sat, my mom walked in. She looked at me and said ' Mr. Rajamani retired as the CEO of a UK based firm. He was one the first to setup an IT company in UK in 80's and outsource work to India, long before even the word outsourcing was coined'. I could see my stereotype becoming reality in front of my eyes. Mr. Rajamani had already passed two of the items in the test. He was in early 60's and had retired from a good position in the industry.

'He also used to head the centre for promotion of Indian knowledge in London. He is a Ph.D in Samskrit and can read horoscopes'. Ahh! That must be the connection. Someone's horoscope must be waiting to be read. Some alliance to be matched. I however was now genuinely interested in a conversation with this gentleman as I had been trying to study Samskrit for years now, but had never got around to doing it.

'I will go and make some tea and be back soon.' She looked at Mr. Rajamani and he said, 'No Sugar for me please'. 'So Mr. Rajamani, I am extremely interested in learning Samskrit, as a proper course. Would you be able to help me out?'.

'You are a very lucky person'.

'Sorry?'

'You are a lucky person'.

I gave him a blank stare. It was only the stare that was blank. My mind was racing through plethora of emotions and thoughts. Did he know about my blog? Has he read my horoscope? Can he read my mind? Should I be thinking all these thoughts now? May be he can read my thoughts and know exactly what I am thinking. I should stop thinking.

'Its in your eyes. I can see the sparkle in your eyes. You are a bright person with a good heart.' So he was not talking about my blog. Or anything else. He was just commenting on my eyes. On my eyes? Huh? What does he mean by sparkle. It must be something good. And why am I thinking so much? Why is my mind restless today? What am I supposed to say now?

' It is said in the Gita', he started.

Chanchalam hi Mahabaho, Mano durnigraham Chalam Abhyasen tu Kounteya, Vairagyen cha Grihyate'

(O Arjuna, the mind is fickle and it is very difficult to control it.
Practice and dispassion are the keys to control your mind')

'It means..' He started.

'I know what it means. Why are you telling me all this now?'

'I just sensed that you are someone who is willing to listen, and won't think of me as a old man who would start a lecture at the drop of a hat.'

I eased up. For the first time, I broke into a genuine smile. My mom walked in with the tea and some biscuits.

'You are not joining me for tea?' he asked. Priya walked in simultaneously.

'This is my wife, Priya. Actually we are on the way out. She is going to US to meet her parents who are settled there. I am leaving to the airport to drop her now. Hence I won't be able to join you for tea. But we should meet soon. I would look forward to that.'

' Sure, I would look forward to that too.' He got up, walked towards me and whispered in my ears, ' Not too many people have sparkle in their eyes. You are lucky. Ensure that it stays there. Through both good and not-so-good times'.

I smiled at him and managed to mutter few words of gratitude on the complement. Both Priya and me bent, touched his feet, bade farewell and briskly walked towards the car.

I was silent as I drove to the airport. Priya gave me a poke and said, ' You sad because I am leaving you and going? Sorry.'

'Hmm.. well.. yeah... Do you realise that this is going to be the longest period that we are going to be away from each other after our wedding.

'Yeah I know, time is not going to move fast. It is going to be not-so-good-time for a while.'

We were slightly late and we scrambled towards the gate with me behind the trolley wheels now. At the gate, she turned around gave me a tight hug. Our eyes were moist.

'Priya, do you rememeber that Mr. Rajamani whispered something into my ears just before we left? He told me that there is a certain sparkle in my eyes and that I should ensure that the sparkle stays through the good and not-so-good times. so when you mentioned that the next month would be not-so-good time, I was thinking of what he told me. I'll miss you.'

'Me too. Its late da. I have to go now. Sorry.' She turned and walked away. She paused before she entered the airport, turned around and waved and was gone'.

I drove back silently. Got into my bed. The exhaustion of the day caught up with me before my thoughts could and I was asleep soon.

----

I was early to office the next day. Two meetings and one conference call later, I returned to my seat. There was a courier for me.

I tore open the envelope. The title on the first page of the document read DIVORCE NOTICE.

Friday Musings

Last week was interesting, to say the least.

We were at a company offsite in Coorg. Besides work, we spent half a day at a school for mentally challenged. Though we could not provide a lot of hands-on help (as much as I would have wanted), but I personally got sensitised to a lot of things.

Firstly,I was surprised and stunned to see around 80 mentally challenged students on rolls in that school from a radius of 5-8 kms in Mercara (Madikere) town. Somehow I couldn't digest the fact that there could be so many of them in such a small radius with sparse population density. Secondly, I realised that we take so many things for granted. The gifts of Sight, sound, speech are truly 'gifts'.

There was one thing that I found ironic. You have the sight and hence you can see a round hole and a cylinder. You have reasonably good 'intelligence' (the rudimentary form of it atleast) and hence you know that you need to put the cylinder inside the round hole. You have grasping power and control over your hands to lift the cylinder. But after all this, you dont have hand -eye co ordination to put the cylinder in the hole properly. It is cruel. It means that you can do all the individual rudimentary steps (all the hard work), and just when you need to do the last task to be successful, you fail.

As I was talking to the people who run the school, I realised the magnitude of the effort they had been putting in for years. Imagine this, you work with a student for years and prepare him to go to a normal school, and then one fine day, he just walks off. No good byes, no thank you. And he is gone. It is a thankless job. I asked them, what keeps them going? What makes them come on a Monday morning to work. (Such a corporate question, damn! ) The reply was humbling.

'It isn't work', one of them told me. Its just what they wanted to do with their lives. WOW! I wish I could have an answer like that, sometime in my life. To one of them, the most memorable and inspiring moment was when after teaching a child to read the same page for 6 months (yeah 6 months!), one fine morning was Eureka - the kid could read and understand that page. That day convinced her to carry on doing what she was.

Someone asked me once, what is the significance of 'Lucky' (fyi, I sign off as lucky). I told her that I am a very lucky person. I've a great family (parents,bro,extended family), have had a comfortable life, amazing friends, good education, a decent job, good standard of living and have had the freedom to make my choices (right and wrong). Another important reason why I am lucky is because every once in a while, when I get cynical with people and/or things around me; I seem to meet someone (old or new) who bring to light a whole new perspective. It is a refreshing and learning experience. Be it the teachers at school in Mercara, an investment banker who has truckloads of enthu-for-life, an old friend who redefines persistence and dedication refusing to give up - now in a premier B school in US, a couple who along with their corporate life have been working to empower 'aam aadmi' using RTI act, my flatmate whose enthusiasm for cooking (amongst other things) is unparalleled.

There is just so much to learn and appreciate, if one is willing to.

Tagged

A few people asked me what happened to my blog. Why has there been no post in the past one month. I insitinctly responded saying that I was traveling, or that I was working 12-14 hours a day off late. (which isn't too far from reality).

I must confess here, that being 'busy' was not the reason for not putting up a post. That was just a convenient excuse. The real reason was that there was nothing to write about. I would open my laptop and then stare blankly at it for a few minutes. I would then log onto other blogs, read them, wonder how someone can be so prolific in putting up posts and then close my laptop and go to sleep. Call it the glorius 'writers block' or any thing else, but the truth is that I just did not feel strongly about anything to write about it. And I just cannot make myself write, just for the heck of it.

So what made me write today? Well, I got tagged by Unpredictable asking me to write about 'Who I judge'. My first reaction was 'I don't judge anyone'. I guess then I am the 'nicest soul alive in this world'. Which I am not.So, lo and behold, there is a list, or actually there is one case.

I judge people who go on and on about how all other countries are beautiful and clean except India but take no personal ownership to doing something about it. They go on and on about how well the system works like a well oiled machinery in all countries except India. And the reason I judge them is because, they would follow lane discipline when they drive elsewhere, but on Indian roads they become mavericks. They would walk a significant distance to drop trash in the trash can when in a foreign country, but they would litter public places in India. To me this behaviour represents a kind of hypocracy. No one is asking them to start a public campaign around cleanliness, they just need to carry the litter around in a small bag till they can find a 'dust bin'. So what if people break rules or take the easy way out, that does not mean you do the same thing. Majority is not always right.

I get responses which go 'In Rome be a Roman' and 'There are secutiry cameras abroad or the fines are high'. I take a very very high moral ground when I reply. To me the real character of a person is displayed not when everyone is watching, but when no one is watching. I guess I am an idealist living in a realists' world. So be it.

This incident happened when in 2004. I was taking a train from Delhi to Amritsar. I had a ticket and when I reached my seat there were people already sitting there. I let them know that I had a reservation. One of them told me to adjust for an hour and that he would get off at the next station. This person was wearing some crumpled clothes and was chewing paan. (Betel leaf). I began an arguement with him saying that I had a right to MY seat as I had a reserved ticket. I felt that I had the right to sit comfortably in MY seat and not adjust with the shabbily dressed person next to me. While arguing, I looked around at the other two people around, urging them through my looks to support me. The Ticket collector walked in at that moment, and guess what, the other two people walked away because they did not have tickets, while the shabbily dressed person had one.

I felt so small and cheap at that very moment. I don't think that the other person figured out that I was judging him by his appearance, but all my self erected high grounds and moral standards came crashing down. Ever since that incident, I try hard, very hard, not to judge people. I am very conscious of not judging people that I often do not read into words/ actions/ behaviour. But thats fine by me. I wouldn't say that I was as bad as Madhavan's character in
Anbe Sivam, but I definitely had/have a few of his characteristics. I am not the most principled person around, and I am the first person to admit it. But of the few principles I would like to live up to, not judging people is one of them.

(All those who think Tamil movie industry is represented by Sivaji alone, just watch Kamal Hassan's movies. Or actually just grab a copy of Anbe Sivam and watch it. I promise you it would be a revealing experience. Atleast you would become more appreciative of Tamil movies)

But, there is a but

I wish to see large joys in small things,
but my vision blurs 3 feet ahead.
I wish to be a poet creating romantic scenes from regular experiences
but neither spring nor rain inspire me anymore.
I wish I could fly; rise up high in the sky
but right now I am searching for my guardian angel to take me along.
It is a mundane existence with little inspiration
but I wish, something good happens for a change. *sigh*

English Tutorials

'So you are going for dinner with Anand ?'

'Yes da, why do you ask?' Priya was standing in front of the mirror adjusting her hair for over half and hour now, worried whether Anand would like her new hair cut. He had made a passing comment that he had a thing for women with short hair. She had not forgotten it.

'Obviously you like him. Why don't you tell him'. Jai was visibily bored. He really did not want to answer her question of 'Do you think he will like it? ' Again.

' I will da, in a few weeks. I am sure both of us feel it. It is just that we have not said or asked each other formally'. Anyways what is the hurry? Its a lot of fun now also, right? . Now , move out. I need to change.' She pushed Jai out of the room.

------------

Anand checked his pockets for his purse, car keys, cell phone, house keys. He latched the door behind him as he completed the check. ' So where do you want me to drop you? IIT gate?' Anand asked Raj as they climbed down 2 floors.

'What? I thought I was also part of your candle light dinner plans? I am sure the table is big enough to accomodate one more person. And its not like the two of you are dating ? ' Raj had a wide grin on his face.

'Wipe that smirk off your face, Raj. I know where this conversation is leading to. The answer is yes, I like her. But I do not know anything more than that.'

' So let me help, loverboy. You obviously like hanging out with her. You are this athlete, the star cricket player. And out of nowhere you join a salsa class. You then start watching romantic movies. Dude.... '

' Hey.. hey.. just because I like You Got Mail, it doesn't mean I like the entire running behind the trees kind of movies. Meg Ryan was awesome in the movie dude. Diddn't she look amazingly cute in that short hair cut?. Now let me concentrate on the road.' Anand backed his Zen out his compound and joined the traffic.

'Thank God Anand. you cleared that doubt. I though you liked it for Tom Hanks or may be Brinkley'.

'Brinkley, who?'

'Brinkley, Tom Hank's dog. The Golden Retriever'.

' Shut up Raj. I will just push you off my car now. You can hitch your own ride'.

-----

Jai dragged himself to the swing in the balcony, and sat their staring out into the sea. Priya's 11th floor house presented a terrific view. The sea breeze had set in. He could smell the salt.

'So Priya, How many wickets did Srinath take in yesterday's match?'

' Jai, nice try. Srinath retired two years ago. My knowldge of cricket is better than yours ok? Don't even try.'

' If you want to impress Anand, tell him that you have cut your hair like that dude from Bihar'.

' For your information, that dude's name is Dhoni. And my hair is shorter than his and obviously better. Shut up now.'

' So, did you feed Anand with the stuff you made after your cookery classes. I heard he fell sick.'

' Yes. Anand loved it. Especially the penne pasta and...'

' Poor guy, I don't think he could have said anything else. He knew very well what would happen to him.'

' Oh please. Anand really liked it. I could see that. And just so that you have your facts right, Anand had a bad cold and fever the next day and it had nothing to do with the food. He had it earlier, it just got worse.'.

' Ha..ha.. ha. Anand told you that? And I am sure you believed him. Anyways, do you know that according to a recent research by one Dr. Jai, consumption of penne pasta can cause cold and fever. Especially when cooked near the sea at a height of 11 floors'.

' Look, I spoke to him that day. He really had a bad cold and fever. She opened the door and stepped out. 'And please remind me again, why am I having this conversation with you'
Priya was looking gorgeous.

-------

' By the way Romeo, do you know that statistics show that India has the most number of guys who like a girl but have not expressed their love.'

' Thanks dude. I diddn't know that. We've reached your stop. Take care and be good. I'll catch you next weekend.'

' I get your hurry. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted.'

' You suck at emotional blackmail. You need to learn from Priya.'

' There you go again about Priya. Go, she'll be waiting. Byee'

' Shit, I'm already 10 minutes late.'

------

' He needs a lesson in Chivalry. You never keep a lady waiting. He is 20 minutes late.'

' Lady? Who , what , where?'

' There, that must be him at the door. Had it not been for him, you would have got whacked. You should be thankful to him for saving your life'.

' You are late, 20 minutes late. whats your excuse mister?' Priya stood at the door guarding the entrance.

Anand looked at Priya. She always looked stunning when they went out together, but today she was charming. He was half thinking and half mumbling.

' Uhh.. Priya, you have got to take English tutorials for me. I seem to have run out of words to describe how amazing you look. seriously.'

' By any chance Anand , are you making a pass at me?'

Anand stepped closer to Priya. ' And what if I tell you I am'.

Priya was blushing. He leant forward and kissed her cheeck. A few seconds of staring at each other was followed by a long kiss.

' Ahem.. ahem... I seem to have a bad throat problem you see.' Jai said clearing his manufactured throat irritation. ' You guys might want to get yourself a room to avoid catching my disease. Its contagious'.

'Oh hi Jai, diddn't see you. Sorry' Anand was embarassed.

'Well, I can see why. I don't blame you. what do you say Priya?'

Priya gave Anand a small punch. 'Anand, that is the worst possible pickup line, one can ever come up with'.

' Well.. It worked'.

Sea

Standing on a beach, just staring at the blue expanse gives me a sense of tranquility. I go quiet and deeply contemplative in the vicinity of the sea.

My association with the sea started when I was three or four years old. I stayed in Ranchi, the current capital of Jharkhand. Come summer and I would make an annual pilgrimage to my grandparents' place in Madras. These days, the heat seems to be unbearable, but as a kid I remember, I would love those trips to Madras, the long train rides and sitting on 'red-oxide' floor with grandparents. I would do the ritual of relative hopping over the 1.5 months that I would spend in Madras. Regardless of the age of the cousin I was visiting, a trip to the beach was a given. Marina beach, Santhome beach, Gandhi Beach, Chepauk beach.

If the uncle I was visiting stayed nearer to the sea then we would go the the beach early in the morning, have a long splash in the water followed by a good breakfast at Saravana Bhavan/ Geetha Cafe/ Drive-in Woodlands and get home by 8ish. Else we would make an evening pilgrimage to the beach. But beach was an integral part of all summer vacations.

When I moved to Bangalore at high school stage, the proximity of the city to Madras meant that I would make more number of trips a year but the length of the trip would be shortened from anywhere between 2 days to a week. Short trips meant that I would invariably have to skip the beach :(

The draw of the sea, I guess to far too powerful. I returned to Madras to pursue my undergraduation. Those four years were, what I would call my 'growing up' years. In this period, I started making sense of the world around me. Some 'sensibilities' set in and if I may say I was slowing figuring out my bearings. My constant companion was the sea. I have spent hours on its shore. Sometimes it was to ogle at gals, sometimes to catch up with some old friend(s),sometimes catching up with special friend(s), sometimes just hanging out with people and a few times hanging out alone; with myself. And never has the sea been unwelcoming. The beach at Besant Nagar has seen my many phases. Its been a silent witness to my 'growing up'.

Now I am in Mumbai, and the sea still beckons. It has been a year since I moved to Mumbai, but I haven't been able to find my way to Marine Drive or Juhu beach more than once or twice. And whenever I did manage a trip in that direction, I always had something else to do, so I never got to spend time on the shores. But I made amends last week. I was sitting on Marine Drive post a sumptuous Gujju lunch at my friend H's place and a tiring 2 hours of scavenging through the second hand book shops on the road side. As usual I was in a contemplative mood. I caught myself reflecting on the one year I had spent in Bombay and the way it had just flown by. The sun had set and the yellowish orange tinge was slowly engulfing the sky. The waves were mild, trying to gently climb the wave-breakers. The sea visibly quiet; tranquil. It seemed to be telling me ' Ah, there you are. Welcome back. I've missed you!'

The picture above was taken on my mobile. This is view of Walkeshwar/ Malabar Hill side from Nariman point.

Need perspective!

I was reading this recent article from 'The Dawn' on why the corporate sector lags behind in Pakistan. This article is extremely crisp and compares certain aspects of the economy in Pakistan with India. I want to draw attention not to the economic aspects but to a statement which I am quoting here from the article.

' The swadeshi (self-sufficiency) movement was integral to India’s independence struggle. It protected indigenous industries, helped them grow organically and created pride in the “made in India” label. '

I always thought that We (India & Pakistan) had an independence struggle. It never crossed my mind that India had a separate Independence struggle and Pakistan had one of their own?

I am not cynical here, but can someone (possibily from the other side of the fence) give me the perspective that I am missing ?

Remorse, Regret!

It was around 1 pm and Bombay was literally burning. It was 40 degrees centrigrade and very high humidity levels. I was traveling in an auto to a friends place for lunch. I was reading the Mint, a paper I have beginning to like a lot.

We stopped at the signal and I could see that it was going to be a long wait. I was immersed in an article, almost forcefully, to take my mind off the discomfort of feeling a sticky shirt against my back. An old man walked in rags walked upto me. I could see his movement from the corner of my eye. He walked up to the auto and put out a begging bowl. He did not say a word, but just looked at me. I took my eyes off the newspaper and looked at the bowl. I looked up at him and then almost non chalantly looked back into the news paper. He lingered on for that split second and then walked off. As he walked away I noticed him walking barefoot on burning concrete.

It is then I realised the mean-ness of my action. I had so coldly ignored a fellow human being. May be he did not merit my charity (for what ever reason) but he definitely does not merit being treated like a non entity.

If only I could turn back time.

Niceness Recharge

This is going to be a post where I know the reason of the post but I have not thought about what exactly to write.It is just a feeling that I am trying to pen down .

This post is about a very good friend of mine H and his fiance D. I don't intend to write a eulogy (though, they would be pretty deserving recepients), but I intend to just bring out one observation.

Whenever we go out to some place to dine, they seem to know what is good in that place and which of their friends/relatives had mentioned that. It does not stop there. They try to pack up the item mentioned(if possible), for the person and they give it to him/her that very day itself.

It is a small gesture, but it leaves the other person with a feeling of being remembered and with a smile extending from the corner of one eye to the other. And, their 'magnanimous attitude' goes beyond food too :).

Whenever I need a 'nice feeling' recharge, I guess I know who to meet.

Setting sun

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. She walked in to the room, naked, and slid under the sheets. As she re-emerged from underneath the sheets, next to him, her fingers traced the contours of his body . His body involuntarily responded to the new sensation. She kissed him on his lips and looked into his eyes. He pulled her close into a passionate embrace. He closed his eyes and he could still see her naked. But there was no lust.

They made out till the sheets were drenched in sweat and both stopped due to sheer exhaustion than anything else.They lay, starring at each other, lost. She got up, got dressed and opened the curtains. The setting sun filled the sky with Orangish - red. The light flooded the room. It seemed to be completing the moods and the smells in the room.

She walked up to him and they held each other tightly almost clinging to each other. She then turned and walked towards the door. She opened the door, paused for a second and looked back at him. He looked at her and said , ' I will not be able to attend your wedding tomorrow.'

The flow!

Be like the river - fast and furious; taking the small pebbles along; in your flow.

Be like the river - intelligent and smart; Jumping and flowing over the larger stones and rocks.

Be like the river - calm and sagacious;Going around hills and the mountains.

But most importantly be like the river because no matter pebble , rocks or mountains, you just keep flowing.

Some thoughts on the Quota Issue

A lot of us are probably aware of the demographic dividend of India. India has 60% of its population under the age of 25. India's population is going to grow till 2040-45 around which time it will stabilise at 1.3 billion mark and start declining. Till this period we will have the largest number of people in 'working/ employable' age group of 20-60. After this period, the ratio of elderly people will start increasing. There are important ramifications of the above statistics.

Around 2020-2030, we will have over 400 million people in 'prime working age'. If we do not provide these many job opportunities we will have a huge group of unemployed youth and that is not good news. There will be social unrest. Imagine, say, 2 million unemployed youth in one city like Bombay. The kind of social tension that would create could be and would be detrimental to society in particular and the nation at large. We truly truly need to make these 400 million people employable. Today number of people in this country with a college degree is less that 5% and with the current(and planned) capacity it is not going to jump to double digits by 2025. Also, post 2043, increasing number of people will be dependent on the state for money from pension (post retirement) So if we do not create the corpus(which would need 400 million odd contributing to pension funds), the state could suffer financially as suddenly one would have increasing number of people dependent on social security and withdrawing their savings.

China had its demographic divident from 1980 and it is going to last till 2025. For India, its 2002- 2043. China is making the best possible use of its demographic dividend. The political leaders (I call them Political leaders and not leaders!) in India have recognised that we need to do it now and it is literally NOW OR NEVER.

Is quota the right way of doing it? I dont know. Somehow in the quota issue I feel that we are thinking like George W Bush. 'Either you are with us or you are against us'. There is no room for an intellectual debate any more. People are emotional. Not willing to listen to rational reasoning and give rational responses to them.

If someone raises a question which might be or sound to be pro reservation then he becomes 'oh! you are one of them!'. The same is true for the reverse case too. In this entire battle of us vs them, what we are losing out is an excellent opportunity to put all the problems pertaining to education (infrastructure and access among others) on the table, have a healthy and fruitful discussion and then take decisions on the same. We are losing a chance which allows us to take corrective action and change the things that have not worked in the past to better the chances for successes in the future. It is here that we need leaders and intellectuals to step in, take charge and show direction. It is here that we need leaders and statesmen who would rise about vote bank politics and jingoistic talk to do what is right.

Right now, I am neither for reservation, nor against it. I simply do not know if this is the best way. The anti reservation camp is going to fight with me and tell me that reservation is going to kill meritocracy and hence efficiency and hence our chance to progress as a nation. (Or something to this effect, if not this drastic!). While the pro reservation is going to tell me, that 15% of the upper segment of the society does not need to have 75 % of the seats. (Numbers are only suggestive) Leave some more for us. Give us access to opportunities and help the nation by helping us.

And right now, I agree to both the arguements and each has its merit (and demerits). My only submission to all is that lets create a system which looks into the future and tries to bring out solution. There are a few options which I can think of like industry partnership to create employable candidates, heavy focus on vocational training and creating vocational courses among others. The solution could lie somewhere among such ideas, or it may lie in quota or it may lie somewhere in between quota and these ideas. But hey, if we do not think, how will we know.

May be I am being wishful, may be I am being impractical and utopian. May be, I am hoping against hope itself. But then again, may be, just may be, we will do the right thing.

ps: But let me make my stance clear. I am totally against quota being implemented in the current manner. OBCs by definition are other backward communities and not other backward castes. I don't know if too many people are aware, that, OBC definition was brought in to remove the caste picture and define backwardness as a combination of caste, economic factors among others. However undue weightage was given to caste in that definition by certain elements who looked for short term political and vote bank gains. As Supreme court noted, that in 1931 when caste based census was conducted , many castes refused to be counted as backward and fought against that terminology. Today however, people fight to get a backward status. Strange are the ways of men! :(

*Lucky is disgusted with the system. He is despondent and is getting more and more cynical. But he hasn't lost hope or the will to fight for what he feels right*

Mahakumbh in Eden Gardens

While watching the world cup matches, I noticed that the grounds in West Indies had pools, where one could splash around and try and beat the heat. With peak attendance of 14,000 or so, one can defintitely afford to have a pool in the ground.

Now Imagine Eden Gardens, Calcutta, and India is playing against ??? ( It doesnt matter who is the opponent, there would still be 100,000 people who would turn up for the match ). Now imagine having pools in the ground to beat the heat.

It would be like a Kumbh Mela, I say. :)

P.S: Given that it is Calcutta, one would not be surprised if they find Fish in those pools :)

Employee of the Society

One of my favourite professors from IIMB had sent a mail on our last day on campus, wishing us luck for the future. The mail also had a word document attached to it which was titled 'How to be an employee'. I opened it, saw that it ran for 6-7 pages and closed it. I however saved it, for I knew that it would be worth a read in the future. While looking through my old mails over the weekend, I came across the document that I had saved and I began to read it. It is an excerpt from the book 'People and Performance - The Best of Peter Drucker on Management'. Here Peter Drucker has said a lot of things or atleast has tried to say a lot of things about How to be an Employee. And most of them make a lot of sense now. Maybe 5 years later, if I revisit this word document, I would probably be able to relate to it more and probably at a higher level. Who knows.

Among the whole lot of things that Peter Drucker has written in that piece, one thing to me that stands out to me is his two paragraphs on 'Your life off your job'. I am going to quote him here.

"I am not, as you might suspect, thinking of something that will keep you alive and interested during your retirement. I am speaking of keeping yourself alive, interested, and happy during your working life, and of a permanent source of self-respect and standing in the community outside and beyond your job. You will need such an interest when you hit the forties, that period in which most of us come to realize that we will never reach the goals we have set ourselves when younger - whether these are goals of achievement or of wordly success. You will need it because you should have one area in which you yourself impose standards of performance on your own work. Finally, you need it because you will find recognition and acceptance by other people working in the field, whether professional or amateur, as individuals rather than as members of an organization and as employees."

Peter Drucker's choice of words is immaculate. The words seem to convey 'feelings' rather than thoughts and ideas here. Being the eternal optimist, I would want to disagree about 'not reaching goals at forty', but for now I shall give him the benefit of doubt. (* Lucky is trying to show off.. nothing else ;) * )

On a serious note, all of us are employees of an organisation and being good employees we take it upon ourselves to push the organisation forward through our best efforts, thus meeting both organisational goals and personal goals. Additionally, I think what Peter Drucker is trying to convey is that, one should also be an 'employee of the society', contributing to it and demanding the same exacting standards that we ask of ourselves in the professional arena. It is a very interesting perspective, an inspiring thought. I intend to translate the thought into action very soon. Lets hope for the best :)

Cambodia and the Angkor

I had a week's trip to Singapore on work. While there, I made a quick weekend getaway to Cambodia to see the Angkor Wat. Here are a few pictures from the trip to Angkor.

[1]

[1 - The Angkor at a distance. A lovely walk through the moat to reach the complex ]

[2] [3]

[2,3 - Angkor is a Vishnu Temple. It has 3 levels. The first level has huge long halls (shown above) which have intricate carvings on Mahabahratha, Ramayana, Churning of the ocean episode from 'Kurma' Avatar of Vishnu and so on. The corridor shown above depicts the Churning of the Ocean of Milk to extract Nectar. The legend (shown above left) describes the churning of the Ocean episode, to the visitors.]

[4] [5]

[4,5 - The above picture (left) shows the steep climb one has to do to reach level 3. One climbs the stairs which is at 80 degree angle. It is almost vertical. Level 3 at the top contains the sanctum sanctorum. The logic given is that one has to put in effort to reach the divine abode (read : sanctum sanctorum). The picture (above right) is the view of the entrance from the top (Level 3) ]

[6] [7]

[6, 7 - The walls of the Angkor are carved with Apsaras (shown above). Apsaras are part of the Cambodian folklore and they represent the celestial dancers. The picture on the right is on the Lake Tonle Sap which has a floating village (villages comprising of people living in houseboats on the lake). This picture is of the sunset from one of the houseboats. ]

[8] [9] [10]

[8,9,10 - This is the Bayon Temple, which is a Buddhist Temple. The most interesting aspect of this temple is that it has 59 'faces' carved on to the walls of the temple. The faces (in pic 10) Do look similar right? :) ]

[11] [12]

[11,12 - This is the Ta Brohm Temple. This has been ravaged my nature and discovered by 'explorer Ravi' (pic 12) :). This is the temple where the movie Tomb Raider was shot.

Doctors and their handwriting

If there is a common joke universally about doctors, then it has got to be about their sloppy handwriting. And personally, I would tend to agree with the generalisation.

However, the bad handwriting actually causes trouble. Recent survey by National Academies of Science's Institute of Medicine reveals a shocking statistic. 7000 people die annually due to the doctor's sloppy handwriting skills and more than 1.5 million injure themselves due to medical mistakes. And this is in America alone. Whoa!

(http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1578074,00.html)

The aim is now to convert all prescription writing to electronic format so that there is no chance of error ( or atleast reduced chances). Big corporate houses are teaming up with insurance providers and hospitals to ensure that doctors in the US use electronic format for prescription.

This is definitely a plausible solution in the medium to long term in US, but across the world this just won't work.

The simplest solution I propose is to have handwriting classes for all medical students. The doctors should also pass a handwriting certification exam every alternate year to have a valid license to operate. They should also be taught calligraphy and all other artistic stuff, so that they may move from an unintelligible prescription to artistically decorated one. We could also have awards for the best written/ decorated prescription. The possibilities are endless :)

Cheaper by Haggling

' bachat mera adhikar hai.. ' goes a certain ad.

It taps into the Indian Psyche of value delivered through lower price and not necessarily superior (beyond base requirements) benefits.

Indians have mastered the art of bargaining. My professor in IIM Bangalore who is also an economist and member of trade panel representing India in the WTO forum, told me once that Indians are among the most despised souls in the forum, as they bargain and haggle to the hilt. Leaving the macro economic and trans national treaties and conundrums out of our radar, we all need to recognize that it is the Indian women who have kept this tradition, this heritage and habit alive. They have also ensured that they passed down this time honoured tradition, so that it does not get lost or forgotten.

The training is imparted to kids at a very early age. Make no mistake, when the mom drags the son or daughter along to the market. Nevermind that the son needs to play cricket and probably is the strike bowler in his 'mohallah' or if the girl needs to talk on the phone to catch up on the latest gossip of classmates, a trip to the market means that the son/daughter has to be there. In the market the kid witnesses his/her mother, live-in-action. She haggles with chappal waalahs, with sabzi waalahs and with all the other waalahs. Vegetables are always way too expensive, even if the prices have fallen by Rs 3 a kilo since the last visit. The kids are thus groomed to be our future negotiators at various levels from reducing grocery rates for homes to reducing trade percentage rates between nations.

Modus operandi of seasoned bargainers are many but have largely remained unchanged over years.First there is the simple, start with half / one fourth the quoted price and work towards the mutually agreeable price. The trick here is that you need to identify the right price point where the seller keeps stressing and is unwilling to go below that. Now you have reached the lowest point of seller. But you can take your prices further lower.

At this point, you can state that you are not interested at the current offered price and start a slow walk away from the shop. After a few steps, the seller calls you back with a new price.

The second part is where you buy, multiple goods. You negotiate the bottom most rates on individual items and then use an emotional blackmail when the final bill is made. You ask the seller to round it off to the lower 10,50,100 whatever the case may be.

There are, I am sure, many more methods, techniques and nuances to this art. However, I shall restrict myself on the 'gyaan' part.

I was out with my mom over the weekend and we were at Dadar market buying some stuff from the peddlars on the roads near the station. I never thought of myself as a great bargainer, but I thought I was decent enough. To learn from the expert, I let my mom go ahead and bargain and buy the first round of stuff. Pretty soon the seller realised that I was lost there and for the next item he looked at me and told me that I am offering this at 75. Just to prove that I could also bargain, I looked back with steely determination at the seller, and said, I ain't offering you anything more that 40 for that. Before he or I could react to anything, I received a punch in my abdomen that almost sent me reeling. My mom looked at me and was visibly shocked. She gave me a bag and said, go outside and leave the haggling to me. And without waiting for a reaction from me, she turned around to the seller and said, 25 bucks else I am not buying anything from you. I walked away from the shop dejected, like a kid in class 3 been punished by his favourite teacher.

Once outside, I became more sensitive to my surroudings. There were women everywhere haggling. They were haggling over junk jewellery, floor mats, bed sheets. They were all over the place - haggling. Thats when I realised that bargaining is a battle. Its a triumph of the never give up spirit, a big ego-kick. There is an immense sense of satisfaction and accomplishment when the buyer comes out victorius (or so she feels). It is immaterial whether one is arguing to reduce price by 100 or by 5, one just has to come out feeling victorius. I did not, but my mom was triumphant.

Nice !

Do not expect the world to be nice to you, just because you are
a nice guy

Its like expecting the lion not to eat you, 'cause you are
vegetarian!

- narrated to me by a nice friend.

RTI Helpline - 9250-400-100

Its been a almost a month since I wrote my previous post. For a while, I did not have anything to write about. And then when I did have something, I did not have time. I'm back :)

Manjunath Shanmugam was an IIML graduate who was killed last year on November 19th because he spoke up against the petrol adulteration mafia in Lakhimpur, UP. It did shock quite a few IIM graduates and the educated class in general, as this came when the memory of Satyendra Dubey the IIT alumnus who was killed in Bihar was still fresh. A few IIM Alumni got together and decided to setup Manjunath Shanmugam trust, with the objective of working for better governance in this country and ofcourse fighting Manju's case and seeking justice.

I am a volunteer in the trust. A small group of us had been working on an initiative for over 2-3 months now. The idea was to setup a national RTI helpline where the common man could call in and enquire on the Right to Information act and how to use RTI and not pay bribes while dealing with government departments/ agencies etc and still get his job done. The onus of solving the problem would still be on him; we would help him out by enabling him to get the right information. We have partnered with Parivartan, a Delhi based citizens group founded by Arvind Kejriwal, Magsaysay award winner 2006 to help us with the capability building for the helpline.

The launch of the helpline happened on Nov 19th 2006 in Gurgaon, NCR. The crack-team :) who had worked on bringing this to life travelled to Delhi for the weekend. The best part was that many of us had been communicating over phone for months, but were meeting each other only then. That weekend was a memorable one.

The launch cum press conference was to be held in the cafeteria of Sparsh - the call center which was supporting the Helpline. When we reached there on Saturday evening, it was,well, lets say a not so well maintained state for a launch conference. We got into action- contacted a tent-contracter, got the walls covered, floors carpeted etc. The entire placed was transformed overnight ( literally! - as we worked into the night :) ). The activities we were doing, along with a night out reminded me of campus days and VISTA :D

Sunday Nov 19th
Throwing modesty aside, I should say that everything went on perfectly. The trust as a pan IIM initiative was brought to the forefront and the activities of the trust were detailed to the large gathering comprising of media, IIM alumnus, corporates and other well wishers of the trust. The case proceedings were mentioned and the progress made in the case was also shared with the audience. We observed a minute silence in the memory of Manjunath. Post this, we set the stage for the launch of the Helpline. Kiran Bedi called in to give her support to the cause and wished the initiative luck. Mr. Narayan Murthy, Chief Mentor Infosys made the first call from South Africa, which was received by Arvind Kejriwal. NDTV and CNN IBN gave us live coverage of the event. The funniest part of the launch event was that we had started receiving calls even as we were launching the helpline. So we picked up two calls expecting Mr. Narayan Murthy at the other end, but they were from callers from across the country, calling in to use the helpline to know more about the RTI act :). We were popular, that too pretty soon I guess :)

We had a celebratory lunch after the entire event was over and came back home.I took the early monday morning flight and was back to work by 9.30 am.

Thinking of the weekend makes me happy. I feel that I have achieved something. It is a very small deed, but what gives me great satisfaction and a sense of fulfilment is that I feel that I have converted all my irritation with the system, all my talking and all the I-want-to-make-a-difference feelings to positive action. Its not the quantum of contribution I made, but the fact that I was part of something that is constructive and is definitely helping in changing things. How much of change, time will tell, but the start is for sure in the right direction.

The helpline number is 0-9250-400-100. Please do promote the helpline in any which way you can. If you would like to help us in our activities please do contact me.

Tryst with Destiny

I grew up fighting and arguing with a lot of people around me that it was easy to pass comments from the side but very difficult to force your self to do the same thing. I used to argue, pretty passionately I should say, to a group of cynics. A lot of them were elder to me. They were not all from my parents generation, but many were. They were disillusioned about the society, about politics and the system. I was a young, optimistic, almost utopian kind of a person who believed that things can only get better. You just have to try. I am a few more years closer to 25 now, but happy that my attitude hasn't changed. Yes, I know that one has to work harder than ever before, but I still believe that things will get only better.

A lot of people have/had given up on the system. "Things will never change", I've heard that enough number of times. It is not surprising. People of the earlier generation were given hope. They were shown a dream. A dream that they (or their parents) had fought for. A dream for which many had laid down their lives for. After all the struggle, you expect something good. Something bright. You expect a future. People have been patient. But 40-50 years is a lot of patience for an entire country. This I feel had/has given birth to a lot of disillusionment.

Everyone knows this. I do not have to repeat it. But what I find new is the change in the attitude of people in the last 2 years or so. There is a heightened awareness about societal, civic and national issues. The Indian citizen is tired of waiting. This change is for the good.

A lot of analysis and understanding of the modern youth / generation has happenned. One common crib is that the current generation has no patience. He is not willing to wait for long, but wants things to happen fast. I think this is one of key reasons for the change in the mentality of the current generation towards issues of larger importance. (of course other than heightened media activity etc). He is not willing to wait for eternity for things to change for the better. He wants to work for it and also wants to enjoy the fruits of his efforts. Its great! Cannot ask for anything better.

There has been heightened activity among NGOs. A lot of Self help groups, volunteer organisations have sprung up. Support groups for a cause crop up across the world. Information is flowing across the world quicker than we can think. This is making RTI ( Right to Information Act) a powerful tool that is now being used across the country, successfully, to fight corruption. People are not stopping with small efforts, but are taking big and giant strides in the right direction.

Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. I think its time.

Tryst with Destiny - Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru

Dont fret- Just not worth it!

I told him what I felt about time exposing the truth- that time did not heal wounds, but that the passing years gave us a vantage point to see the reality of things. I added that it was no fun to grow old but that the compensation for it was that time turned your mental shit detector into a highly calibrated instrument.

-- Paul Theroux in Dark Star Safari

How true. Looking back (now that I am old), the incidents/decisions that I had considered extremely important/critical at a particular point in time, today when I look back, seem not that important and sometimes even trivial. I am not taking away anything from those incidents or those decisions. They were extremely important at that point in time. But they do not seem that important now. Some of them have been major decisions but those everyday/routine ones for which, I was tensed and fretted over, seem so trivial now.
And these are not just my thoughts. A few of us had got together and somehow through the conversations somewhere, the same topic came up. And I was surprised that almost everyone felt the same way that I did.

I guess this is called experience :)

So, a simple decision has been made. Do not get your B.P. high or negative energy in over any and every issue. Just not worth it! Things have a way of falling in place. After all, life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans!

For God's sake give the man something to do!

' Show man love
if you cannot ,

Show man hope
if you cannot ,

for God's sake give the man something to do!

Note: I heard this statement in a movie. Darn right, I say!

I remember

I remember

- catching a glimpse of you for the first time when you were crossing the road, near the station, before you disappeared into the milling crowd.

- looking at every girl on the street near the station hoping it was you, just to see you one more time.

- being surprised and grateful to god beyond my belief, when you were introduced to me on campus the next week.

- making up stories of my prowess and accomplishments just to impress you, and feeling like a road side filmy romeo afterwards.

- our first telephone call, that lasted for 4 hours.

- hoping that every telephone call that comes in would have you at the other end of the line.

- feeling stupid and simply-happy when you were around.

- being scared beyond wits on the day i decided to tell you that I was desparately in love.

- lying down on my terrace with my phone next to me and thinking why girls-need-time for everything?

- opening ur SMS with trepidation and feeling relieved.

- our visits to the beach

- searching for you when we were out as a group and feeling reassured when I noticed that you were doing the same

- putting my arm around you, this was not the first time, yet it felt very different.

- those tiny moments of being alone, holding hands without people noticing, when we were in crowded places

- me asking you what you were thinking, when all you replied was 'I love you'.

- feeling irritated, helpless and frustrated when you had to go off for a week on vacation and I had no means on contacting you.

- pinching myself today 10 years later, and realising that i still feel stupid and simply happy around you and empty when you not around.

Living by ourselves

I am starting a series of posts (hopefully it would be a series) on my adventures of living alone.

Let me tell you something. Living alone is just not easy. (duh!).

Background : Two of us Me and Sri share an apartment.

After having an extensive signing ceremony the previous evening (one that would give fierce competition to any Indo-Pak peace process signing ceremony) attended by Sri, me, Owner, Owner's wife, three other witnesses and owners kid, we were all set to move in. (Oh I forgot to mention some chai (tea), biscuits and sweets were also part of the ceremony. Yumm!)

The first instruction we got from the owner was that we have valve system arrangement for water flow control inside the house. We heard the owner give instructions but given our background as engineers, we were confident of not only controlling the system but even making changes for the better. (hail the engineering ego!) Let me try explaining a valve system a little.
A warning to the readers that the following few sentences would require extensive visualisation ability and an ability to see marvel and beauty in human ability to complicate simple activities.

There are two mini tanks in the loft of my apartment that can store 1000l of water. One of them is connected to the main pipe (from the overhead tank). The other tank is connected to metro water tap. Metro water comes in daily between 8 and 8.30 am. The two tanks are interconnected. The water control system is quite intricate. There is an inlet valve (V1) for metro water in the kitchen. Valve V2,in the common bathroom(B1) controls inlet of water into the two tank combination. Valve V3 in bathroom B2 controls outlet of the water from the tanks i.e. to the taps. Opening of valve V1 and V2 would let water in only when metro water comes. Opening of valve V2 during any other time would lead to back flow of water and hence loss of water in the tank system. Practically, there is just one entry for water into the tank system, but two exits one through valve V3 and other through valve V2 which is also an inlet.

Day 1:

Now that all of you have understood the system of water control at my place, let me begin my story. There is quarter tank water and we have switched on the washing machine which has utilised almost all of the water available. It is close to 8 am now and we are impatient as the unscheduled use of washing machine has left us without water. Even morning ablutions had been put on hold.It is like those movie scenes where the camera shuttles between a ticking clock and a guy pacing up and down. Suddenly the bell rings. We look at each other puzzled. We did not expect a visitor on day 1 that too at 8 am. We open the door to find the watchman who informs us that he is now going to open the main metro water valve. We rush back to the bathrooms and wait with empty buckets for water to come. (I was praising my contingency planning abilities which made me foresee this situation and buy 3 buckets instead of 2. * Self Applause*) Minutes tick by and no water. We come out of bathrooms and look at each other bewildered. After 2 minutes of hypothesising I arrive at the conclusion that 'water cannot disappear' and it is no 'maya' and that 'the house is not haunted'. We decide to look for rational reasons (go engineering!) and start from the basics. We discover very soon that we have 3 valves in our house and some how figure out that opening of the 3 valves in the right combination would allow water to come in. My mind instantly flashes back to this game show called crystal maze which used to come on TV where the participants would play games to recover the crystal, and one of the games was opening the correct valve combination to let the water in in, at the right time and spot.

My flash back mode was cut short when Sri yelled, 'Macha! I see water'. I rush to the room where the sound had emanated from. I saw water, but something was different. It then dawned on me that water was in the bedroom and not in the bathroom. Again, working from first principles and with help of clues left by culprit (Read soapy water), we discover that the water has leaked from the washing machine outlet pipe which had a hole. It was crisis time and I decided to take charge and make the critical decision. They say that when a man is put to test, his true nature, his courage, grit and intelligence is revealed. I yelled almost ordered Sri, 'Figure out the valve combo and I will clean this up'. That decision I must say was a self sacrificing decision which I am very proud off.

So two MBA graduates fresh out of prestigious B schools in India, were involved in highly complicated exercise that morning. One was convinced that there was a devil in the house for the more he mopped the floor, more water seemed to be flowing. (Only later did he realise that he had not switched off the washing machine which allowed water to leak out even as he was cleaning the floor). While the other performed highly effective and precise movements between bathrooms B1, B2 and kitchen to figure out the right valve combination. ( Sri I am sure, has since done time and motion studies on this to save us precious nanoseconds in morning hours)

Our motto of 'try try try till you succeed' paid rich dividends with both of us had a well earned a luxurious bath. On our way to office we laughed at our morning adventure. We labelled it as 'learning experience'. We had no idea of what was in store for us that evening and in the subsequent days.

Return of the King!

I bow to thee !

Books thicker than the encyclopedia would be required if one were to document each and every word written about this great man. Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

I am sure that there was no man, no man in this country or a genuine cricket lover who was not gladdened when he saw Sachin hit his century today. I did not follow the match today as I was in rural Tamil Nadu. The moment I got to know that Sachin had scored a century today, a wonderful feeeling of happiness and joy just enveloped me. Today he was back, back with his sixes. He was back with his straight drive, straighter drive and straightest drive. (This should be christened Sachin shot!). His sixes over extra cover were an absolute spectacle to watch.

There was a time when Sachin got out and half of India would switch off its Television sets. There was a time when he carried the hopes of 1 billion people alone. It may not be the case today. People may still see hope in the match even if Sachin is dismissed but people never lose hope in a match if Sachin is around.

Greatness is not about making a big bang. Greatness lies in consistency. Being able to go out on the field, and perform at the pinnacle of one's performance day after day, time after time defines greatness. Tiger Woods in his recent interview(published couple of days ago), defines greatness as equivalent to consistency.

All I can say is that I am truly blessed to be a contemporary of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar ;) . He has given me the sheer joy of watching poetry in motion.

I bow to thee!

'Form is temporary, class is permanent'

He was a man today!

He was sure that people had definitely faced a similar predicament before and he was not the first one. Yet the solution seemed so simple to him. It did not seem to warrant too much of a thought. The answer was just there. He knew that he was right in this case.

He wasn't right because it was morally or socially or ethically the right thing to do. It may have been.

He wasn't right because he was going to sacrifice something for someone else. Atleast not this time.

He wasn't right because there was an ulterior motive of greater common good or of self-interest behind it.(Though people would easily read into it!)

But it was the right decision because he could not let himself down. He knew that this decision would define him. It would never be obvious or conspicuous to anyone else. But he just knew it.

He felt proud of himself, he felt he had grown up. He was a man today!