Government jobs

‘Maami, today I got a good proposal for my daughter. The boy is from IIM Ahmadabad’

'Appadiya Gomti? That is very good. IIM boys are very difficult to find. Many of them ge married to someone from their own college . Good Good! How old is he? '

'He is 29 years old'

'Oh! that is perfect for Vaidehi. She is 26 na? What is he doing?'

'He works in America Maami, in New York, in some bank'

'Oh Gomati, did you check if it is Lee-man bank?'

‘I think so. You have heard of it Maami? It is good na?'

'Don't you read the papers? That bank has closed down?'

'Aiiyo ... I did not know this.'

'In our times, bank jobs were the most sought after. I remember my father would look out specifically for grooms for me working in banks. He would say that government bank jobs are the best. See how right he was. It is a different thing that I liked your maama who was working in Income tax.'

'What should I do now Maami?'

'Let us go talk to Malathi. You know Malathi na? She works as a consultant in wedding business. I know that she is going to the VISA-lakshi temple now with some clients. Lets walk there'

'Consultant in wedding business? Appadina? '

'Why don't you ask her? '

---

‘Malathi, you know Gomati right? She wanted to ask you some questions.’

‘Maami, of course I know Gomati. I met her and her daughter Vaidehi last month at the kutcheri.’

‘So Malathi, what do you do? What is this consultant business?’

'Gomati, I keep track of the latest developments in the groom and bride profiles through my sources. With that I know what is hot the marriage market, which are the most desired qualities, professions and so on. I basically do all the things to facilitate match-making'

'Appadiya..Malathi, Can you tell me more on how you do it?'

'See, I have this small team working for me. First and the most important is the Maami Network. Everyone trusts word of mouth and Maamis. So in all the social functions such as weddings, kutcheris, temple visiting I mix with people to learn more about prospective boys and girls. I keep myself updates about prospective boys and girls and what they are doing. The second round is my team who are all very good with computers and latest developments. They look at multiple sources online like Orkut, Facebook, LinkedIn and all matrimony websites'

'Sorry Malathi, I don't know much about computers. Can you tell me how this works?'

'See Gomati, the young ones today have a lot of their information online. Let us take LinkedIn website. I keep track of where the boy/girl is working and who his professional contacts are. And just in case we need to know verify the character of boy or girl, we know who to contact for professional stuff.’

'Oh this is like when my father used to ask for contacts in office and ask for verification.'

'Correct. Orkut is more public. Almost all boys/ girls are active on Orkut. There is something called testimonials where friends write about each other. We read that to get better understanding of the person. Then look at his group of friends and their profiles. Remember the adage - A lot can be told about a man by the company he keeps. This is the best way to know his peer group. Also the boy/girl is part of some 'groups' like Classical music or rock music or his school and college. With this we can find out which school and college he studied in and what his interests are. So we find out much more about the boy or girls interests'

'Wow Malathi. This is really useful information’

'Then there is Face book. It is more difficult to keep track on face book as there is a lot of privacy there. Among many things, we specifically keep track of status line messages. If you watch that over a period of time, you would know how the person is feeling, what are the activities he or she is involved in.'

'Malathi! you are super. Kalakittai. I need your help. I am looking for alliance for my daughter Vaidehi. In fact I got one alliance. The boy is working in some bank in New York. I think Lee-man'

'Gomati, Lee-man Bank in New York? That is not good. A lot of people have lost jobs or are in the process of losing jobs. We have seen increased activity on Orkut, facebook. Earlier these people did not access facebook or Orkut. Now they are very active on it. This only shows that they have more time on their hands and hence less work. On LinkedIn there profile shows the highest increase in change of status in the 'what are you interested In question'. Many have recently changed it and have added 'here for jobs'. And not just that. The boys in this profile are people who are sending out most number of requests for 'can we be friends? Its not that the women are not smart. They are rejecting most of these requests. In fact the reject rate in this group has gone up significantly off late. In Shaadi.com and matrimony websites, many proposals of such boys and girls have been rejected because of working in these banks – though other reasons have been given.’

'Malathi, this is so scary. What do I do now? '

'Tell me the boy's name?'

' Rohit Sundaram'

' Oh Rohit, is he from Madras university then IIM Ahmadabad working in New York. He has round face, slightly fair and is interested in photography.'

' Yes yes.. him only. Do you know him?'

'Well, kind of. Don't worry. He is a good boy and he is not in Lee-man but in Gold-man. And don't worry, Gold-man is now a government bank'.

' Oh.. That is good news. I always knew government bank jobs are the best.'

Sigh! Such is life!

At work, in business, we have this concept of benchmarking. Look at how other companies or businesses have done in similar situations. What has been the output and/or the challenges faced. And to benchmark, we look at other industries, geographies, competition and so on to get a good 'feel' and learn from their successes and failures.

However, when it comes to personal life, somehow I tend to forget this principle. That learning from other's experiences is not just an intelligent thing to do, but a wise thing as well.

'Learn from my experience ' -that has been the overall theme of what people have said. But then I believe (or so have believed - not anymore) that past is not an indication of the future and especially if it is not your own past.

'You have not experienced this, how will you ever understand, let alone talk to me sensibily about it? So, why should I listen to you on this? '

In Tamil there is a phrase - 'Vayasu kolaru' (perils of a particular age.. especially teenage and early adolescene ;)). Guess that fits in here. See, again I am trying to avoid owning up :(.

And today, I find myself in a spot. I find myself 'giving gyaan' to someone. And guess what I am telling that person - 'Even though I have not experienced exactly what you have been through, I can understand. '

And I get the same reply back - 'You have no idea what I have been through,so you cannot exactly understand.'

Sigh!Such is life - it does come around a full circle. Only that I had no idea tht it would be this early.

Travel time again - Udaipur

Earlier this month, Sep 2 and 3 to be precise, we (my department of 6 from work) had our offsite in Udaipur. Celebration of a good year gone by. Two people planned the trip out.. It was done immaculately. Lots of fun, enjoyment, some work. All in all a good 2 day break from work.

Will try and let the pictures do the talking :)

This is the entrance to the Udaipur Palace. Looks royal during the day and enchanting at night. The tour of the palace is really good and one gets a good dose of history.

The sound and Light show, which runs every evening is very tastefully done. It captures the history of Mewar (of which Udaipur was the capital) very well. You almost feel it in your guts when they describe the number of times the women in kingdom of Mewar have committed Johar (where the women commit suicide by jumping into sacrificial fire, rather than be captured by enemies - when defeat is inevitable - this enables the warriors to fight unto death without care that their women folks would be 'illtreated')

This is picture of the famous Lake Palace (Taj Group). It looks pretty during the day but by night, the white light, under moonlight and starry sky its breathtaking. No wonder it costs INR 30,000 a night there.

The dinner was brillianto! The place was restaurant in the palace premises. The backdrop was the palace, enchanting in its presence. The restaurant was by the lakeside with the Lake palace in the distance. And the entire place was done up in soft yellow light and candles. And ofcourse, the moon is all its resplendant glory, white washed the night. To me it seemed like lake Pichola knew that she looked beautiful and she was basking in all the attention, with the water glimmering in the moon light.

We just did not want to leave. We were almost thrown out politely :). I am sure that the to-be- married, married-long-ago folks in the group swore to come back here with their respective partners. And I, well I just sighed! ;)

This is the place where I stayed. Very very tastefully done up. There were traditional paintings on the walls. The colours used gave a very earthy and comfy feel to the whole place. And there were baitaks (sitting areas) where we just lounged. I am sure that when I build myself a house ( whenever that is), it would definitely have a baitak.

And ofcourse, how can I not do the touristy thing of riding a camel. I tell you, it is not very comfortable or lets say pleasant. :P

Its been 2 years and 3 months since I started work and they have flown by. I counted the other day that I had done 19 states in India - cities, towns and villages. In my life, not just in 2 years. But last two years have been fun. And while we are on this topic ... I got promoted. Effective October 1 , I am a Manager.

Paths

I saw 'Rock on' yesterday. Good movie. Dil Chahta Hai .. part 2, I guess. But it has been shot in a very, very realistic fashion. Captures nuances pretty well. But this post is not about Rock On or about Dil Chahta Hai. Or in a manner it is.

In DCH, towards the end when Akash (Akshaye Khanna) and Sameer ( Saif Ali Khan) get back in touch, Akash asks Sameer why he hasn't proposed to Pooja (Sonali Kulkarni). In his reply, he mentions, 'Now that you are back, I am more confident' ( Or something on those lines).

In Rock On too, when friendship is rekindled there is confidence, energy and posititivity enthused into the character's lives.

Ok so, why do I write this? Well, why do I write this? I guess I share the same sentiment.

K & I are closest of friends. We spent most of college life together. Ok correction - almost all of college life. I don't think there is any one eatout/hangout place in Madras (which is affordable in college levels) that we haven't hung out at, together. Post college, life took us on separate paths. We chose to do different things and the stands we took on certain issues forced us to walk our own ways.

But, last 1/1.5 months has seen revival of one of my most cherished relationships and a wonderful friendship. I guess it is a wonderful feeling when you realise that a lot of things have changed around you but not much between the two of you. And that, is the silver lining in the dark cloud that once hung over me.

And definitely in the past 1.5 months I feel more positive and enthused. Confident and energetic.

Mera vala Pink

This has to be counted as one of my better decisions in a while. I had work in Delhi for a day on Friday, August 1st. As I booked my tickets, I realised that getting back to Bombay over the weekend would mean that I would be most probably stuck inside my house due to rains. And Jaipur was a city I had never been to. But, if I were to do the weekend trip to Jaipur it would have to be alone. I was ambivalent, but then rose to the challenge and realised that the only way to seal this decision was to buy a return ticket to Mumbai from Jaipur. So, no more excuses of not going :)

I finished my work by around 4.30 pm on Friday in Delhi and made a quick dash to Bikaner house, near India gate. Buses for Rajasthan start from here, every half hour. This small bit of precious knowledge I gleaned from one of my Delhi based colleague, who through his contact even booked a guest house for me for the weekend. I was all prepared to land up in Jaipur, middle of the night with a back pack and look for accommodation. A totally unplanned road trip. The only planning I had done was to check weather forecasts and I knew that it would be raining in Jaipur and hence I had an umbrella packed.

There is only so much Lonely Planet can tell you. The best is to take help of local knowledge. If I were to have followed Lonely Planet to the hilt, then I would have taken a bus to Jaipur from Inter State Bus terminus which would have been another 1 hr and 20 kms away from Delhi. And of course I wouldn't have known where to get the best 'Dal Bhatti Choor' or ' kadi kachori'. Lonely planet helped me prepare and plan the places to see, but the caretaker at the guest house was my mini guide.

As this was an impromptu trip, I did not have a camera and my mobile phone camera failed me at the last minute. So let me try recreating the picture through words :)

I reached Jaipur at 12 midnight and checked into the guest house by 12.30. I had a nice 3.5 hr sleep in the 5.5 hr bus ride. So by the time I slept on Friday night, it was 3 am. My plan was simple. I would tour the city at my pace. So if that meant seeing just one thing a day I was cool with it. I started my walk at around 8.30. The place where I stayed was almost 5 kms away from the old walled city. I stopped enroute at a road side place for some breakfast. Kadi - Kachori and kadak chai. Brillianto! and of course followed up with some piping hot and freshly made Jalebi-rabri. My mouth is watering as I type this. :)

I walked through the Khazane Walon ka Rasta through Mirza Ismail road following the Lonely planet route to the T. I stopped and searched for Ishwari Minar Swarga Sal- A minar which supposedly gives a panoramic view of Jaipur. The entrance is not on the main road, and there are absolutely no directions/ signboards etc. The guard at the entrance offered to give me a literal birds eye view -talk about Jaipur for ten bucks. The stairway to the top is long and winding. It is dark with little sunlight filtering through the narrow openings. There were pigeons who had made the tower their home. I was scared. Seriously. It was pitch dark and I could not see the next step. My mind was just thinking of what I would do if i confronted bats. I had my umbrella with ready to hit anything that would come within striking distance. And the winding staircase was not helping. It went round and round the tower and by the time I reached the top, my head was spinning and I was feeling weird. I sat there for a while and the guard caught up with me. The view was breathtaking. As I saw the Nahargarh standing guard to Jaipur over the hills at the distance, I knew that the view from Nahargarh of Jaipur would be breath taking. The guard quickly pointed to all the places of interest and when he found out that I had been to Bangalore, the topic quickly shifted to terror attacks and he pointed out the places where the bombs had gone off in Jaipur. He told me that the tower was built so that the king could sit and see the houses of the dancers who supposedly lived right across the street. The king had to be a really enthu character to climb this tower to see the dancers quarters, when all he needed to do was issue summons to those dancers. But what the heck, this story is definitely more spicier than the boring story in lonely planet of the tower being built in memory on a prince.

The Jantar Mantar, hawa Mahal and Jaipur palace were so-so. They did not live up to all the hype. Jaipur palace has an artists gallery where one can see artists (painters, wood sculptors etc) at work. One can even buy the displayed wares. A tad expensive. Some of the artists are national/international award winning artists and their work is seriously good. I was done by 1 pm. I Loafed the bazaars, scouting around for things to buy, enquiring prices and grabbed some good lunch in desi ghee :)

The inner city of Jaipur, around the market place area is around 10-12 squares big. The bazaars in the earlier days, and quite the same now, were demarcated basis the artisan group that lived there. So for e.g. Johari bazaar would be more famous for ornaments and jewels. There are many such bazaars - each known for its speciality. I was feeling weird, ( all 'cause of the spiral staircase, I think). I went back to my room, caught a quick siesta and was back in action walking the markets, exploring every gully.

Jaipur is a shoppers paradise.. When I told a friend of mine that I was going to be in Jaipur for two days, she retorted saying, if you are not going to shop, then what are you doing there for two days? I must admit that this is true, at least in part. You have to be there in the bazaars to see it. Footwear, trinkets, sarees, bags, purses, bright colours, glass embedded all glittering in the evening sun. I managed to do some shopping and a lot of bargaining. I am sure that the sellers still made a good cut, but I was happy with my skills, I brought down the prices by a decent amount. Or so I think.

Sunday morning, I woke up to hurting legs. I had made the mistake of not packing shoes and hence was walking in sandals. I had almost walked 10-12 kms through the previous day and had a small blister too :(. Damn, my plans of doing Amber fort and Nahargarh was gone for a toss and I could choose only one and obviously I chose Amber (Pronounced as Aa-mer meaning high). The first sight of the fort was stunning. Standing on hill, reddish-white-pink in colour.Its a ten minute climb by foot from the base to the main entrance. As I walked up, I figured that the pathway looked uncannily similar to the one which Hrithik Roshan takes in Jodha Akbar when he goes to Aishwarya Rai's home to bring her back. I am sure that the shooting of Jodha Akbar would have happened in Amber. I took the audio guide and walked around the fort. The audio guide is a new feature that is available in a lot of languages (English, Hindi, Tamil, Gujarati, French, German and Chinese). It allowed me to tour the fort at my own pace. I had minimal expectations from the guide, as the experience at Jaipur palace was not that great. There was content but no story. It was like reading one of those exam guide books with bullet points. History is not about facts alone. History is about people and about the ethos, about culture and about civilisations. One needs to tell a story. Not dole out facts and dates.

The one at Amber fort a story of the fort, its history, kings, queens (maharanis, pataranis, madhya raanis and choti raanis.. phew I didn’t know that you classifies raanis like this), concubines, conquests, alliances for political gains, queens scheming with one another - against one another etc. It takes you through a journey in time. The fort is regal. It has an ingenious system of water flow to keep the interiors cool during summer and intricate use of mirrors that would reflect light and heat from the lamps in winter to keep the chambers warm. There were some military concepts in the design too. Like all entrances into kings/ queens chambers or into the palace would be at right angles to previous entrance and slightly narrow. This would force the front column of the invading army (if it breached the wall) to turn at right angles leaving the middle/rear vulnerable to attack from guards standing high on columns and watchtowers. There are a lot of such interesting facts to learn in that fort. The architecture is a combination of Mughal and Indian and here too there is some Sherlock Holmes stuff also to do. The sculptors have hidden Hindu symbols like the Sshesh Nag in the motifs which predominantly look Mughal. The Sheesh Mahal or Glass Palace is very beautiful with intricate carvings on glass facades. For the period I was in the fort, I was lost. Lost in the story and history, in the beauty and literally lost in the maze of passages.

I came down the fort and looked back. It stood in all its majesty in the backdrop of the grey sky. Royal. As the couplet goes ' even the beautiful full moon shies away , seeing your beauty'. ( I know this is a very poor translation of the original Urdu couplet which is supremely romantic!). The Rajasthan tourism department, to promote Monsoon tourism was holding a musical concert in the fort at night. Oh what a setting, the fort lit at night (Which looks awe-inspiring, I have seen some pictures), classical music pervading the air, in the large courtyard under the starry sky and we sit on 'gaddas' (mattresses) on the floor. Oh what a setting! It is a pity I had to take a flight tonight.. Waaaaa !! :( I missed Nahargarh, but well, I need a reason to come back.. I have two. Nahargarh and Amber.


As I walked around the old city of Jaipur, I realised how religion centric the life in this city was. It was not even a prominent religious place. I mean Jaipur isn't exactly Pushkar or Banaras. There was a big procession of Bholenath (Lord Shiva) which had elephants, camels, horses, people dancing, women in carrying offerings and the deity on his chariot. The procession was almost half a km long. Not just the temples I saw were also full of devotees. The hoardings and bill boards in the city had ads about all the religious TV shows like Ramayan, Mahabharat, Devi Maa and the new Shani Devta on NDTV Imagine. I don't remember seeing too many ads of FMCG or durables. Yes there were some financial stuff like insurance but it was predominantly religion. I guess this is true of many of Indian towns. The Hindustan Times Jaipur Edition has astrology forecasts on page 2 for half a page. (Sunday edition). I have never seen this before.

The peak season runs from October to Feb/march where tourists descend in hordes. And hence this is preparatory time. So many places like Hawa Mahal, Jaipur Palace, Amber fort were undergoing renovation and were being given facelifts. Just in time for the tourists to arrive. At the fort, kids selling flowers, caps, carvings were hounding all the foreign tourists. Literally hounding. Far from being lured by the wares on display, they were irritated in the humid weather and I am sure, were cursing these pedlars in their own languages.

I think We Indian's are generally fascinated by white skin.( I know its a broad generalisation, but I'm sure you would agree with me at some level) The person next to me in the bus trip to Amber fort was asking quite a few annoying questions to two French travellers. He asked them if the two of them were husband wife, the guy replied no we are friends and are just classmates. This guy was taken aback and decided to keep quiet after that.

These foreigners too take to 'feeling' the indian experience very seriously. They quickly wear sari or salwars, flowers on their hair, bindis etc. Many of them look good but they are unable to carry it off well. But there was this French girl who looked absolutely stunning in a red top, blue bottom and a multi colour pagdi (turban) and bright shiny green earrings. I am sure, every single guy (and gal :)), paused and stared when they noticed her.

My flight will land in Bombay in next few minutes. I don't know if I am rejuvenated or not after this break, but I sure am glad that I made this trip. My legs ache, I have blisters but I am 'happy tired'. In these two days, I got no calls except one from my parents who asked me if I was doing fine. I am generally permanently online and supposedly 'in touch'. These two days showed me that otherwise is ok too. I didn’t have my camera, but I didn’t think I missed it that much. In fact, I now think, that I would have split my attention towards getting nice photographs and good angles that I may have missed enjoying the sights and sounds.

A cousin is getting married in end august down south and I plan to use that trip to make a dash to Kanyakumari. I have never been there. This trip if it happens would also be done alone. I hope to catch the sunrise and sunset over the same beach (unique to Kanyakumari only). Wish me luck!

State of the Nation - A farce!

I am sick and tired of terror attacks. Yes, who likes them. But I am even more disgusted with sequence of events that follow. So damn predictable.

1. Immediate announcement of compensation to the kin of the dead and injured.
2. State government would blame the centre for not giving intelligence inputs
3. Center would claim that Intelligence was given, but local authorities did not act properly
4. State Chief Minister would appeal for communal harmony, would say that his government would do everything to root out terrorism
5. Intelligence agencies would blame groups with relations to either a particular community or support from other side of the border. They would also play the 'intelligent game' of asking people not to blame anyone without investigation, while we all know that all they are going to do is blame 'certain groups'.
6. PM would appeal for communal harmony
7. Home minister would say that terrorist attacks would not deter India from fighting terrorism and removing anti national elements. And that peace talks with Pakistan would go on
8. News channels would have a field day reporting LIVE. Each fighting with one another for 'breaking news.'
9. SMS poll in news channels... ' is India too soft on terror' with some 80% saying yes.
10. experts would write columns in websites and news papers on 'what the blasts mean'. All news channels would have talk shows calling one person from UPA, one from NDA and one 'independent' expert. UPA would blame the nature of terrorism, NDA would blame UPA for weak policies and removing POTA while independant expert would say we need better coordination, a joint task force, and systemic planning! Blarghk!
11. Countries from around the world would try to beat each other in being the first to condemn the blasts and call them acts of terror.
12. In all the melee, the masterminds of the synchronised attack would live happily ever after.

This is the story in Jaipur, in Hyderabad , in Bangalore and even freaking Mumbai. Security is a farce. All we can do is pray that we are not at the wrong place!

Mr. Prime Minister, I whole heartedly support you on the need for energy security, but do you understand that we need 'life security' first? Naxals? Terror attacks? Are there any other excuses that you can invent?

Rear view mirror

This is part two. Please read part 1 here.

It was a long flight back for Diya. She did not like long flights. She could never sleep. She always felt that if she dozed off, there would be no one to fly the plane. 'And anyways, all airplanes have this strange smell', she would argue. She would take longer time to recover from the airplane experience than even jet lag.

All the passengers were sleeping. Hers was the only reading light on. She was looking through pictures of her childhood. Those days seemed so far away in her memory. Everything was one big blur. Of course she remembered a few instances which were etched in her memory, like when she was 10 years old and was taken sari shopping with her mom and aunts. She had liked a bluish green sari and asked her mom to buy it for herself which she promptly did. Or this other time when she was 16 and her cousin who was 14 had just 'come of age' and was regaling her with 'non-veg' jokes, sitting under the shade of water tank on a hot summer afternoon. She remembered one and let herself give out a half smile.

But as she looked through most of her other old snaps, she realised that she remembered when and where the pictures were taken but nothing much beyond it. Maybe it was just her current state of mind. She fidgeted with her book, her ipod and her albums spending equally less time with all of them. She knew that soon, she would start thinking of her mother and how to handle/ react to whatever situation that she would face when she landed. It would have been so much easier if Dave was with her now. But she knew he was right. ‘It is your family and you need to confront them. Plus its the worst time for me to meet your family for the first time.'

She caught herself thinking that something might happen to her mother while she is on the flight? She quickly dismissed the thought, telling herself to think positively and quickly sent a prayer upwards to her 'ishtdevata'. She wondered whether the prayer would reach Him faster as she was already up in the air. Her mind quickly shifted to her father. How would he react? A quiet man, he was complete contrast to the other three members in the house. Her mom, brother and she were loud, always talking and gossiping. At nights, they would sit in the kitchen discussing and dissecting the events of the day while he would sit reading his paper or business magazine. He was unassuming and a man of few words. But off late she had started to realised that she seemed to be more like her father in her thought process. And the more she thought about it, she realised that her dad, in his own silent way, had left more impressions on her than she had earlier realised.

'We are now entering Indian airspace', the captain's voice suddenly crackled through the speakers. She could almost feel the 'collective homecoming' of all the passengers around. As the plane aligned itself for landing in Chennai, she could spot the coast line and outline of the Coovum river. Her mind immediately registered the Coovum smell. It was instinctive. Years of train travel had taught her that Basin Bridge and Coovum smell meant that Central station was just a minute away. But that minute would seem like eternity.

The sudden jolt of the plane landing reminded her to switch on her blackberry. She heaved a sigh of relief as she read 'Amma normal - out of ICU' in the subject line. She looked out of the window as the plane taxied itself to its bay. She couldn't control the stream of tears that were flowing down her cheek. And this time, she did not want to.

She let her suitcase fall as she gave her brother a big hug. 'She's fine?'

'Yes she is. No problem at all. Out of ICU - in regular room. Under observation for a week.'

'What exactly happened? '

'A not too mild but not too serious kind of heart attack. A clot. Plus her diabetes complicated the operation a bit. I don't know too many details. I landed from few hours ago myself. You can ask appa. We are going to the hospital directly.'

‘I don't know how to face him. Is amma conscious? I can't face both together.'

'Yes she is conscious, I spoke to her. And you aren't going back after travelling half way around the world without meeting them, are you? Things would be uneasy first; but they would be fine. Don’t worry akka, you are after all their daughter. So tell me, how long you here, how is Dave?'

But Diya was not listening. She was watching the streetlights in the rear view mirror, wondering if those streetlights were actually closer or in fact farther than what they appeared.

She sat at the common area of 4th floor. She made her brother sit with her, in silence. She did not know what to do next.

'Appa..' She stood up.

'Go see amma. She is awake.' There was no smile or anger in the voice or on his face.

She walked steadily towards the room, opened the door and walked in holding her brother's hand. Her mom lay there in her nighty. She was sitting up and looked straight at them.

'Amma..' Her voice choked as tears flowed down her cheeks.

'Why have you come now? '

'Amma.. I know you are angry.. and you are right. I am sorry... '

'You hurt us. And what you did embarrassed and disgraced us. And you turn up today, after you hear that I am in the hospital. Where were you all these months, when the heartache you caused hurt more than this silly heart attack? I want you to turn back and go away. '

'These are your first reactions. I will talk to you later. Don't get agitated now. It is not good for you. I'll go now.' Diya turned and opened the door.

'Diya..’

‘Yes amma..’ . Diya turned around, with a big smile. Her mom had called out her name.

‘Sometimes life never gives you a second chance’

Answering Machine

It was a chilly Saturday evening. It had been snowing intermittently for over two days. Diya thought that it was quite abnormal for November. The weather gods had decided to be more benevolent today. It hadn’t snowed since morning. The roads had been cleared, the snow shovelled neatly to the sides. Diya and Dave decided that they would move into their new house today. They had spent close to 3 months searching for a house till they had chanced upon this one. Dave could not fathom a life in an apartment. 'Where will I play with my retrievers?' and Diya wanted a house from where she could feel the presence of the sea. Having grown up in a small apartment just off Besant Nagar beach in Chennai, sea had been her constant companion of many a year. The closest they could get to these requirements was a villa that had a backyard from where you could see the lake at a distance.

'But Dave is a nice guy ma!'.

'He is not one of us. He is white. An American. We cannot get along with him.'

'If one wants, we can get along with anyone.'

‘Don’t give me philosophical and idealistic answers. We live in a real world. He eats fish, meat and all those things. How do you expect me to live in a house where such things are cooked? Diya don't tell me you are going to cook non veg.'. There was a look of disgust on her mom's face.

Diya had rehearsed all these conversations innumerable times in the 16 hour flight from Newark to Chennai. She knew her parents well enough to know that she had no hope in convincing them. She had met Dave in her second year of Masters. She had taken up teaching assistantship with the same professor under whose guidance Dave was doing his Ph.D. They had met at the professor's house for Thanksgiving dinner. It wasn't love at first sight, but there was something attractive about him. The dinner was followed by a Broadway show, couple of movies, lunches, dinners and in two weeks time Diya knew that she was hopelessly in love with him, despite of all her efforts against it. She would lie on the bed at night, her thoughts oscillating wildly between how girly she felt around him and what this would mean at home.

She spent that Christmas at Dave's home in DC and in three days time she was like a foster daughter in the house. Dave's parents doted more on her, and this made Dave envious. She found Dave’s envy cute but she ensured that she enjoyed every bit of the attention that was being showered on her.

All through her 16 hour flight, she rehearsed every possible conversation, opposition and all her responses. She wanted to be patient and not loose her cool.

Yet something snapped within her. It was not what her mom had said, but the look of sheer disgust.

'I rather sit out the next 5 hours at the airport than in a house where people do not understand me'. She walked into her room slammed her door and walked out half hour later with her suitcase. No one tried to stop her. As she dragged her suitcase down those stairs, her brother Deep ran behind her, snatched her suitcase off. 'Go tell a proper bye to ma and pa. We'll go to the beach and then I will drop you off at the airport.'

Diya's thoughts were broken by the creaking sound of the garage door. 'We need to fix that horrible sound, Dave.' She said almost involuntarily. 'Still thinking about your family? Cheer up! We are entering our new home now. Smile!'

'Yeah, I am sorry.' She got off the Prius, wiping her tears of her cheeks. She skipped across the porch quickly, opened the front door after fumbling a bit with the keys and took a few steps into the house and stopped. She could see the living room, the guest room and the winding staircase to the first floor. A bluish black light lit the house. It seemed to be a curious mix of light from the heavens and street light filtered through the glass ceiling over the staircase. It seemed mystical. Dave's footsteps over the gravel made her aware of his presence. She shook her head, forcing herself to break off from her thoughts, wiped her moist eyes, switched on the lights and turned towards the main door and forced a smile.

'You ran in too soon. Did you see how beautiful the silhouette is, and the light reflecting off the lake?'

'Stop. .. Step in with your right leg …… ' .Her voice trailed as she realised what she was saying. She looked up at Dave who stood with one leg in the air at the door. She collapsed on to her knees and broke down sobbing.

'Hey Diya, this is Priya. .. I didn’t know that you were in the marriage market.' Priya sounded excited, disappointed and was feigning feeling of being hurt. It was as though she had been purposely kept out of a secret dealing.

'What do you mean? What are you blabbering?' It was not even April Fools day. She could trust Priya to play some prank. Priya was Diya's cousin, just six days younger. They had grown up together in Chennai and now were in US pursuing Masters. Priya lived within a 4 hour driving distance.

'Don't feign innocence. My mom just called me and asked me to checkout your profile on the matrimony site. Because of you now my parents are asking me to put my profile up. When did you agree? What about Dave? '

'Send me the link over mail. I will check it out and give you a call back. Bye! '

Diya was fuming by the time she read her own profile. She reached for her phone and called up Dave.

'Hey honey, wassup?'

'Dave, will you marry me? Can we get married in August, as soon as I finish?'

'What? What happened, Are you alright?' There was a discomforting silence. 'I mean.. I don't mean in that sense of being alright... You know what I mean right? 'This is too sudden and surprising… I am so happy you are thinking in about marriage... but what happened? Are you alright?’

'Yeah I am. Let us meet today for dinner and talk.'

Three months later, on a Saturday evening, Diya called home. She had stopped calling home. Only her parents called her once a week. She did speak to Deep everyday online to know what was happening at home, but she never called. She knew that it was a Sunday morning and her folks would be out for a walk along the beach. Predictably, she got the answering machine.

'Ma, this is Diya. I know this is going to be a big shock. I just called to say that I am getting married to Dave tomorrow. I don't know if I am doing the right thing or not, but after seeing my profile on the website, I just felt that I did not have a choice. I will miss you folks .... And .. and.. I am sorry’. Click.

Dave kneeled next to her, put his arm around and whispered into her ear 'You should call up your mom and speak to her.'

'But what will I tell her? What would I talk to her about? How do I even start the conversation?' Diya was almost yelling. 'I just left a message last time on the answering machine. I did not even tell her myself that I was getting married.' She was now crying uncontrollably.

'Why don't you leave a message again in the answering machine? Pour your heart out. That’s a start. We'll take it from there. '

Diya saw merit in what Dave was saying. The answering machine enabled her to converse with her mom yet avoid a conversation.

She checked the time, it would be Sunday Morning. She called her home, with one finger on the disconnect button, ready to hang up if someone picked up the phone.

'We are unable to take your call. Please leave your message, we will call you back'. She recognised her own voice from three years ago. At least this one thing had not changed.

'Ma.. I don’t know what to say ... How to start’. She was sobbing. 'I am sorry.. really sorry.' The silences were broken by her intermittent sobs. 'Today, I have grown so big that I am setting up my own home ... away from home. I don't know when I grew up.. I know I have been a bad daughter.. I don't know if you would forgive me.. I hope you will.. I don't have the guts to call and talk to you.. or face you.. but i know that you will get this message.. Even if you don't forgive me... I want to talk to you once.. Just once.. '

Dave's mobile rang out aloud. He gestured to Diya that he was stepping out of the house to pick up the call.

'Dave speaking '

'Dave... Dave.. This is Priya here.. Where is Diya? I amr unable to get her phone.'

'She is here. . on the phone.. Can I take a message?'

'Dave.. Dave.. Its Diya's mom. She isn't well.. I don't know what happened.. She is admitted in the ICU since yesterday.. She may not survive.'

Phoenix

Those millions of conversation you have in your mind, sometimes they are words that you can almost feel and sometimes they aren't even thoughts, yet you know what they mean. Or atleast you think so.

They take the form of uncertainity - not knowing what lurks around the corner. Oh how you wish you could take a sneak peek standing 5 feet away.

You advocate that the choices we make determine who we are and where we are headed. But the choices you made don't seem to be taking you anywhere. You are lost.

In the milling crowd, you search for familiar voices. Suddenly, you decide to walk away. You have wonderful company for the evening but you are still alone. You quickly check for your shadow - reassuring yourself that your faithful friend is still around.

You used to advice people that change is good. Yet today you think that it is just a justification given when things don't go the way you want, but you are forced to reconcile with reality.

You involve yourself in mundane activities to keep you occupied and tire yourself physically just to escape the daily trauma of putting yourself to sleep or waking up in the middle of the night.

One fine day you decide that you've had enough. You want to break free and decide that tomorrow would be a brand new day. But that tomorrow never comes.

You act strong, invulnerable. Yet, you know that you are like the duck in the pond. People just see your graceful swim, not noticing the desperate pedalling below the surface that helps you keep afloat.

Then one day you get bored of being bored. You get bored of telling people that you have a routine life. You start surfacing. You don't know whether the choices you made are right, but you know that you would make the very same ones if you could go back in time. You realise that you are still lost, but you begin to look around and start thinking that the journey isn't as bad as you had thought. It could have been much worse. No one knows, but today, you are reborn. You are Phoenix.

Lets do something about it..

I am uncomfortable. There is a food crisis in the world today and it is only going to get worse. I am so lucky to be immune to 5-8% rise in food costs, yet for majority of my countrymen and the population around the world, 5-8% rise is a 'recipe' for disaster. It would push many below poverty line and those below poverty line into disaster zone.

I am uncomfortable because at a very personal level I am completely uneasy with the feeling of someone going to bed hungry while I (and people around me) waste food because they had ordered too much or cooked a lot. It is not like I woke up today and discovered that I was uneasy with this thought, but in the past with the progress we were making, conditions were improving and we were successfully lifting more and more people above poverty line. But with the current price rise and given that it is here to stay for a while, it only means that all our hard earned progress might be nullified. Our Prime Minister has rightly called inflation a risk against which most of our country has little or no protection.

I want to do something at a broader scale but I do not know what to do or how to help. I welcome any and every idea that you guys have where I can commit my time/effort to help the cause. And while I try and figure out what to do to help in the larger scheme of things, I make a few personal committments here

1. I shall skip atleast one meal a week (if not two).

2. I would under-order at restaurants and eat a little less than order in excess and waste food.

3. Finally, I would spread this message around hoping to influence more people to be conscious about food consumption and wastage.

Lastly, I hope the few readers who do read this blog, also take it upon themselves to help spread awareness and make some personal committments in whichever manner they deem suitable, to help the situation. Individually, our efforts might be small and isolated but few hundreds of us can make a difference.

ps: The Inflation is 5-8% on a basket of goods. Essentials like grains, milk etc have escalated in double digits.

Progress

I have been busy over the past few months working on a pretty interesting project or series of projects. Now after almost 10 months of work on it, it has gone live. Well, in my industry where we sell soaps and shampoos, going live means seeing stuff on shelves - yeah the good old brick and mortar stores.

It is an awesome feeling of accomplishment to see ones project in-market. It is a team working on it and nothing can ever be accomplished alone, but when you can see the part of the work that you had led - being played out in-market exactly as you had envisioned it couple of months ago.. It is an awesome feeling - of satisfaction. Ofcourse markets are cruel forcing only the best to survive - so keeping my fingers crossed. Wish me luck!

There is a new feeling of confidence. New because this was the first time that there was no clearly defined end point or a goal. We had a vague idea on what it should look like but as we worked more on the project, we could articulate it better, feel it closer and finally see it for real. And as a person who measures personal development on the basis of number of different skill sets acquired and diverity of experiences that I have had versus just salary and designation, I feel I have made good progress :)

Back to the Present

Back after a long hiatus. The break was both self imposed and as a result of what is popularly called the writer's block :) (Atleast I would like to think so).

Anyways, in the past 2 months, I have been traveling a bit.(yes, yet again!) However this time it was international. I had a official trip to Singapore in the last week of March and I combined it with the weekends on either side. So I was in Kuala Lumpur for 2 days of which one was spent watching the grand prix at Sepang.

Man, KL is beautiful. It is futuristic. (Atleast for an average Indian who has spent 99.99% of his life here) It is such pretty mix of heritage and modernity ( not that these two have to be two different things). And the best way to explore a place is by walking around, with no ipods, soaking in the smells and sounds of the city. (As cliched as it may sound. I am sure Mahogany would agree though!) So a colleague of mine and me walked the city starting around lunch time till late in the night. We covered quite a bit of KL through the walk.

Walking through KL starting from the National Museum to the old station to Merkara square to Petronas and KL towers was a brilliant experience. I observed that the people were disciplined in their driving and very courteous in their talk. (Except a minor altercation with a cab driver - who was an Indian - and was abusing us in Tamil. I guess some things don't change that easily.)
Through conversations I figured out that KL developed to what it was today because of wanting to be better than Singapore. A sense of competition can do wonders, even at such a macro level. Bombay should benchmark New York and London and Singapore if it wants to be anywhere close to be called a global city. And here is where I go back to my theory that we need leaders who can sell a vision and energize people. Today there are only two things that unite India - cricket and war. Nothing else. It is a sad state.

This was my third visit to Singapore in the span of 2 years. And each time I have stayed there for a week. First time I was wow'ed by the infrastructure and facilities and how smoothly the entire system worked. My first level of wow was that things actually worked. And then I realised that they were efficient. I could say that I was enamoured by the entire place. The second time I went in, I guess I was very critical - trying my best to find out what I could crib about. 'The trees are planted so neatly, and branches are all trimmed. All trees are uniformly shaped, just like the ones we are taught to draw as kids. Its not natural. Everything here is so artificial - 'man-tamed'' . ' There is a perpetual state of fear. You can't even express your opinions openly. It does not have freedom of speech ' .. And so on..

This time during my trip, I realised that the system working frees up a lot of time, effort and energy. I could traverse the city without feeling tired and worn out. I still crib about manicured trees and nature reserves but the convenience the city offers in phenomenal. I ate out every single day of the week and tried Egyptian, Turkish, Swiss, Mexican, Thai cuisines amongst others. I went clubbing one night and had an amazing time at 'Insomnia' where the live band totally rocked and then later at rupee room with some 'desi' music. Its a global city to state the obvious. And this was the first time I experienced this facet of it. So my feelings for Singapore are mixed. I am drawn by the diversity in experiences that the city can provide, yet somewhere I am unsettled by the negative vibes and messages that hit you from all directions.. 'Do not do xxxxx else you will be fined, if you do yyyy also you will be fined.'. Is that the only way system can be made to run efficiently?
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The thing about living in India is that you are exposed to paradoxes of affluence and poverty everyday. I am reminded every single day of how lucky and blessed I am. This constant reinforcement I am sure also helps a lot of people donate, get involved in charity or work for the underpriviledged. But in a place like Singapore, I doubt the fact that there could be external reinforcements. So charity, volunteer work would really come from within/ family. Narayan Murthy once made an observation that he admires Bill Gates' charity work a lot for given Gates' background and the society where he comes from, it is much more difficult to be so giving (on an average) than in India where you see so much suffering around you. I now understand what he meant. And a trivia for all of you - More money is spent researching Baldness than Malaria. We really need to get our priorities right!
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I had dinner with my friend this week and he reminded me of quote that I had mentioned to him long ago . I think it is pretty insightful.

Do not expect the world to be nice to you, just because you are a nice guy, It is like hoping that the lion wont eat you, just because you are vegetarian!

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Being this person who hates silences, I try to maintain constant conversations. Silences are discomforting. Or so I thought. In this Singapore trip, I spent a lot of time with a very close friend of mine. And we weren't chattering away into the night. We spoke and there were silences. And they weren't unsettling. I guess I had moved to the domain of comfortable silences. In the end, it left me with the warmest of feelings. Now I know that you don't need physical proximity to be at ease with anyone that you move into the zone of comfortable silence.

A day in Dilli

I was in Delhi last week, just like so many of the previous weeks. The difference this time was that I stayed back on saturday. A friend of mine was in Delhi too and we decided to walk the Red Fort, Chandini Chowk and Jama Masjid area. I have seen the Red Fort earlier, but not the rest.

The entire day was well spent walking at a slow pace, exploring the smallest of the streets in Chandini Chowk while discussing a few nuances of what I thought was an elaborate swimming pool in the Red Fort to cultural colonialism and so on. Some good conversations happenned.

There was enough time at hand to 'soak up the atmosphere' in each of these places (as cliched as it may sound!). While we sat in these places quietly, each to our own thoughts, I suddenly realised that my thoughts were influenced by the place I was in, subtly, but influenced none the less. Anyways here are a few pictures taken from my cell phone.

I made a trip by myself to the India Gate later that evening. Though I have driven around India Gate earlier quite a few times but had never stopped there. Everytime I pass India Gate, I get goosebumps. And this time as I stood there, watching the flame flicker in the gentle breeze against the backdrop of the evening sun almost kissing Rajpath, I was overwhelmed by the place. The weight of history was a heavy but joyful burden.

Ps: We really do not take care so much about our soldiers/heroes. We reward the unnamed soldier with 'Indian of the year' through SMS campaigns, yet there are scams in coffins, allotment of petrol bunks and so on. Damn!

Tagged

Its been a quiet period. Little activity in life and hence here on my blog. While I search for an inspiration to write about, I've been tagged by Unpredictable.

Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words given (family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like). Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better. Now don’t forget to read the archived posts and leave comments.

Well, I am not too big on passing on tags, but well, let me atleast link up a few posts. This tag gave me a reason to read through my archives atleast.

Family: I haven't written too many on this theme. Here is one dedicated to my paternal grandmom. I wish I knew her better when she was alive. And here is one about my relationship with my maternal grandfather. Someday I will write more on my grandfather. He deserves a blog, all for himself.

Friend: I do not name people explicitly ( except ofcourse H & D here and here), but most of what I write is stolen from reality/ from life which revolves around friends :)

Myself: There is too much off myself all over this blog. hmm.. now that I think of it, I should probably do something about it.

My love: Well.. hmm.. Whenever that happens I hope its like this. ( In my defence, I heard 'Ondra Rendra' from Kakka Kakka and Partha Mudhalnaale from Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu back to back and was inspired!

Anything I like: Travel (1, 2, 3). Something for greater common good, hopefully. (The number in the link has changed!). Short stories. Nostalgic train rides I guess.

of Intent

After much travel, and lots of work (or so I claim - I hope my boss agrees!:)) I am now home on a week's break. And sadly today is the last day of that break.

Having nothing to do is thrilling for a while, but after the initial euphoria, the lack of activity has made me even more restless. My mood has transited through happiness, sorrow, matter-of-fact and tired-of-thinking-kind of fatigue. I guess I just can't lie around doing nothing :( . I atleast have to think.

I must have been a cat in my previous life. I just move from room to room, snuggle into a warm corner and sleep. All good things have to come to an end. Sigh!

I have been talking a lot to a friend on the theme of 'intention' and having an ' honest intent' being the starting step for everything. And today I read two posts back to back on Swetha's and Unpredictable's blog on the same topic. Guess a lot of us are thinking along similar lines currently.

Its back to routine from tomorrow.

Go Kiss the World!

' Life is a lesson, you learn it when you are through'

There is only so much one can understand and comprehend at a particular stage in life. The answer to some of the larger questions in life, I believe lies in 'wisdom' which is a combination of intelligence and experience. I strongly believe that as one passes through life and amalgamates different experiences into himself, he gets wiser. How he uses this wisdom is upto him, but experience and intellect (his ability to discern) together brings fresh perspectives and sometimes a new meaning dawns upon him.

When I joined IIM Bangalore, the inaugral speech was given by Mr. Subroto Bagchi COO Mindtree Consulting & Mr. Ramachandra Guha, eminent historian. Mr. Bagchi, gave a wonderful speech. It struck a chord, I guess with a lot of people in that hall, including yours truly. But the full purport and import of that speech never hit me on that day . I was excited on making it to the supposed big league, and raring to go, work hard to earn that degree, climb the corporate ladder and earn those big bucks. (I still am :P) But that speech remained lodged in somewhere in the recesses of my mind. I came across it again today. And now, I relate to whatever Mr. Bagchi said in so many ways. I guess this is because I have spent a couple of years working and earning and have a new set of experiences. It is such a humbling and inspiring speech. I am sure that when I read it again a couple of years later, I will relate to it even more. The last line to me sounds so profound yet simple. 'Extra ordinary achievements(success!) from ordinary lives'

I am copying the speech below. It is long, but I assure you that it is well worth the few minutes. Read it and let me know what you think.

Go Kiss the World
Welcome Address by Subroto Bagchi, Chief Operating Officer, MindTree Consulting to the Class of 2006 on July 2, 2004 at the Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore, India

On defining success.

I was the last child of a small-time government servant, in a family of five brothers. My earliest memory of my father is as that of a District Employment Officer in Koraput, Orissa. It was and remains as back of beyond as you can imagine. There was no electricity; no primary school nearby and water did not flow out of a tap. As a result, I did not go to school until the age of eight; I was home-schooled. My father used to get transferred every year. The family belongings fit into the back of a jeep -
so the family moved from place to place and, without any trouble, my Mother would set up an establishment and get us going. Raised by a widow who had come as a refugee from the then East Bengal, she was a matriculate when she married my Father. My parents set the foundation of my life and the value system which makes me what I am today and largely defines what success means to me today.

As District Employment Officer, my father was given a jeep by the government. There was no garage in the Office, so the jeep was parked in our house. My father refused to use it to commute to the office. He told us that the jeep is an expensive resource given by the government - he reiterated to us that it was not 'his jeep' but the government's jeep. Insisting that he would use it only to tour the interiors, he would walk to his office on normal days. He also made sure that we never sat in the government jeep - we could sit in it only when it was stationary. That was our early childhood lesson in governance - a lesson that corporate managers learn the hard way, some never do.

The driver of the jeep was treated with respect due to any other member of my Father's office. As small children, we were taught not to call him by his name. We had to use the suffix 'dada' whenever we were to refer to him in public or private. When I grew up to own a car and a driver by the name of Raju was appointed - I repeated the lesson to my two small daughters. They have, as a result, grown up to call Raju, 'Raju Uncle' - very different from many of their friends who refer to their family drivers as 'my driver'. When I hear that term from a school- or college-going person, I cringe. To me, the lesson was significant - you treat small people with more respect than how you treat big people. It is more important to respect your subordinates than your superiors. Our day used to start with the family huddling around my Mother's chulha - an earthen fire place she would build at each place of posting where she would cook for the family. There was no gas, nor electrical stoves. The morning routine started with tea. As the brew was served, Father would ask us to read aloud the editorial page of The Statesman's 'muffosil' edition - delivered one day late. We did not understand much of what we were reading. But the ritual was meant for us to
know that the world was larger than Koraput district and the English I speak today, despite having studied in an Oriya medium school, has to do with that routine. After reading the newspaper aloud, we were told to fold it neatly. Father taught us a simple lesson. He used to say, "You should leave your newspaper and your toilet, the way you expect to find it". That lesson was about showing consideration to others. Business begins and ends with that simple precept. Being small children, we were always enamored with advertisements in the newspaper for transistor radios - we did not have one. We saw other people having radios in their homes and each time there was an advertisement of Philips, Murphy or Bush radios, we would ask Father when we could get one. Each time, my Father would reply that we did not need one because he already had five radios - alluding to his five sons. We also did not have a house of our own and would occasionally ask Father as to when, like others, we would live in our own house. He would give a similar reply, "We do not need a house of our own. I already own five houses". His replies did not gladden our hearts in that instant. Nonetheless, we learnt that it is important not to measure personal success and sense of well being through material possessions.

Government houses seldom came with fences. Mother and I collected twigs and built a small fence. After lunch, my Mother would never sleep. She would take her kitchen utensils and with those she and I would dig the rocky, white ant infested surrounding. We planted flowering bushes. The white ants destroyed them. My mother brought ash from her chulha and mixed it in the earth and we planted the seedlings all over again. This time, they bloomed. At that time, my father's transfer order came. A few neighbors told my mother why she was taking so much pain to beautify a government house, why she was planting seeds that would only benefit the next occupant. My mother replied that it did not matter to her that she would not see the flowers in full bloom. She said, "I have to create a bloom in a desert and whenever I am given a new place, I must leave it more beautiful than what I had inherited". That was my first lesson in success. It is not about what you create for yourself, it is what you leave behind that defines success.

My mother began developing a cataract in her eyes when I was very small. At that time, the eldest among my brothers got a teaching job at the University in Bhubaneswar and had to prepare for the civil services examination. So, it was decided that my Mother would move to cook for him and, as her appendage, I had to move too. For the first time in my life, I saw electricity in homes and water coming out of a tap. It was around 1965 and the country was going to war with Pakistan. My
mother was having problems reading and in any case, being Bengali, she did not know the Oriya script. So, in addition to my daily chores, my job was to read her the local newspaper - end to end. That created in me a sense of connectedness with a larger world. I began taking interest in many different things. While reading out news about the war, I felt that I was fighting the war myself. She and I discussed the daily news and built a bond with the larger universe. In it, we became part of a larger reality. Till date, I measure my success in terms of that sense of larger connectedness. eanwhile, the war raged and India was fighting on both fronts. Lal Bahadur Shastri, the then Prime Minster, coined the term "Jai Jawan, Jai Kishan" and galvanized the nation in to patriotic fervor. Other than reading out the newspaper to my mother, I had no clue about how I could be part of the action. So, after reading her the newspaper, every day I would land up near the University's water tank, which served the community. I would spend hours under it, imagining that there could be spies who would come to poison the water and I had to watch for them. I would daydream about catching one and how the next day, I would be featured in the newspaper. Unfortunately for me, the spies at war ignored the sleepy town of Bhubaneswar and I never got a chance to catch one in action. Yet, that act unlocked my imagination. Imagination is everything. If we can imagine a future, we can create it, if we can create that future, others will live in it. That is the essence of success.

Over the next few years, my mother's eyesight dimmed but in me she created a larger vision, a vision with which I continue to see the world and, I sense, through my yes, she was seeing too. As the next few years unfolded, her vision deteriorated and she was operated for cataract. I remember, when she returned after her operation and she saw my face clearly for the first time, she was astonished. She said, "Oh my God, I did not know you were so fair". I remain mighty pleased with that adulation even till date. Within weeks of getting her sight back, she developed a corneal ulcer and, overnight, became blind in both eyes. That was 1969. She died in 2002. In all those 32 years of living with blindness, she never complained about her fate even once. Curious to know what she saw with blind eyes, I asked her once if she sees darkness. She replied, "No, I do not see darkness. I only see light even with my eyes closed". Until she was eighty years of age, she did her morning yoga everyday, swept her own room and washed her own clothes. To me, success is about the sense of independence; it is about not seeing the world but seeing the light.

Over the many intervening years, I grew up, studied, joined the industry and began to carve my life's own journey. I began my life as a clerk in a government office, went on to become a Management Trainee with the DCM group and eventually found my life's calling with the IT industry when fourth generation computers came to India in 1981. Life took me places - I worked with outstanding people, challenging assignments and traveled all over the world. In 1992, while I was posted in the US, I learnt that my father, living a retired life with my eldest brother, had suffered a third degree burn injury and was admitted in the Safderjung Hospital in Delhi. I flew back to attend to him - he remained for a few days in critical stage, bandaged from neck to toe. The Safderjung Hospital is a cockroach infested, dirty, inhuman place. The overworked, under-resourced sisters in the burn ward are both victims and perpetrators of dehumanized life at its worst. One morning, while attending to my Father, I realized that the blood bottle was empty and fearing that air would go into his vein, I asked the attending nurse to change it. She bluntly told me to do it myself. In that horrible theater of death, I was in pain and frustration and anger. Finally when she relented and came, my Father opened his eyes and murmured to her, "Why have you not gone home yet?" Here was a man on his deathbed but more concerned about the overworked nurse than his own state. I was stunned at his stoic self. There I learnt that there is no limit to how concerned you can be for another human being and what is the limit of inclusion you can create. My father died the next day. He was a man whose success was defined by his principles, his frugality, his universalism and his sense of inclusion. Above all, he taught me that success is your ability to rise above your discomfort, whatever may be your current state. You can, if you want, raise your consciousness above your immediate surroundings. Success is not about building material comforts - the transistor that he never could buy or the house that he never owned. His success was about the legacy he left, the mimetic continuity of his ideals that grew beyond the smallness of a ill-paid, unrecognized government servant's world.

My father was a fervent believer in the British Raj. He sincerely doubted the capability of the post-independence Indian political parties to govern the country. To him, the lowering of the Union Jack was a sad event. My Mother was the exact opposite. When Subhash Bose quit the Indian National Congress and came to Dacca, my mother, then a schoolgirl, garlanded him. She learnt to spin khadi and joined an underground movement that trained her in using daggers and swords. Consequently, our household saw diversityin the political outlook of the two. On major issues concerning the world, the Old Man and the Old Lady had differing opinions. In them, we learnt the power of disagreements, of dialogue and the essence of living with diversity in thinking. Success is not about the ability to create a definitive dogmatic end state; it is about the unfolding of thought processes, of dialogue and continuum.

Two years back, at the age of eighty-two, Mother had a paralytic stroke and was lying in a government hospital in Bhubaneswar. I flew down from the US where I was serving my second stint, to see her. I spent two weeks with her in the hospital as she remained in a paralytic state. She was neither getting better nor moving on. Eventually I had to return to work. While leaving her behind, I kissed her face. In that paralytic state and a garbled voice, she said, "Why are you kissing me, go kiss the world." Her river was nearing its journey, at the confluence of life and death, this woman who came to India as a refugee, raised by a widowed Mother, no more educated than high school, married to an anonymous government servant whose last salary was Rupees Three Hundred, robbed of her eyesight by fate and crowned by adversity – was telling me to go and kiss the world!

Success to me is about Vision. It is the ability to rise above the immediacy of pain. It is about imagination. It is about sensitivity to small people. It is about building inclusion. It is about connectedness to a larger world existence. It is about personal tenacity. It is about giving back more to life than you take out of it. It is about creating extra-ordinary success with ordinary lives.

Thank you very much; I wish you good luck and Godspeed. Go, kiss the world.