Soul To Soul

Whether this or that

2011-04-25T21:17:00.001+05:30

At times things threaten to choke me

At times things are there to provoke me

Whether this or that things stay!

Things are sometimes a raging storm

Leaving behind in its wake

Broken hearts and minds

At times things take more than that

Destructive in its impotence

Throwing up broken souls

Sometimes things can be strange

Almost unbelievable

Neither possible nor impossible

Things are possibly an illusion

Things are a matter of perception

A Reflection of anything and everything

Things will change beyond the horizon

Ah! you fool! you can but hope

Things have a pace of their own

At times things threaten to choke me

At times things are there to provoke me

Whether this or that things stay

Ek mulakat

2011-02-14T23:40:00.004+05:30

Sadak ke kinare kal raat

Chalte chalte Main thahar gaya tha

Jaham mein kuch jajbat uthe the

Kavita ke bulbule ubhar rahe the

Jab main apni kavita likh raha tha

Woh mere aas paas mandra raha tha

Jab tak khel raha tha woh apne aap se

Main bhi chup tha, magan apne aap mein

Achanak use khelne ka mood aaya

Haule se mere haath pe woh lehraya

Khushi khushi usne ek dankh maara

Khud ki jeet ka mano jhanda pheraya

Aankhen thodi num hui! Uff yeh kya dard hua!

Maine socha meri kavita mein yeh asar tha

Kaash! yeh mera sapna sach hota

Hothon pe aah, maathe pe pasina na hota

Aakhon mein paani samet ke dekha

Ek macchar baitha mere haath pe tha

Mera khoon chuskar... *@$@!

Kha pikar masti mein leta tha

Itna sust ki woh ud bhi na paya

Jab maine ungli tale use dabaya

kitnon ke khoon kee nadi behne lagi

kuch boondein mere khoon kee bhi beh chali

uske nasht hote hi mera raavan so gaya

Tab maine socha iski jagah kaun lega

Kaun mere daye gaal ko sehlayega

Kaun mere baye pair ka jhoola jhoolega

Intejaar kuch naa karna tha mujhe

Palak jhapakne bhar ka faasla tha

Sahi samjha aapne doston.....

Ek naya macchar mere kaan mein

......... Gungunane laga tha!

A different kinda Dance

2011-02-13T00:37:00.002+05:30

Questions .... questions.....

they lead a merry dance....

sometimes a tango and sometimes a waltz

hand in hand they move.....

happy and gay....

pushing and teasing!

listen to the music and the form will change...

try a new form and the music will change...

simple .... and oh so neat!

questions and answers ...

they lie within....

at times in the mind ...

other times in the heart....

questions.... more questions .......

pushing one over the edge...

and happy souls are seen sitting over the ledge...

questions and answers....

they lead a merry dance...

sometimes a tango and sometimes a waltz!

15 going on 16

2011-02-12T20:44:00.003+05:30

15 going on 16….

Life is indeed a circle. In fact I think it’s more like wheels within wheels within wheels. One large circle i.e. the entire life, then comes the circle of education, and then comes the circle of work and so on and so forth. We add so many small and large circles to it. Call it circle or a cycle it’s just that – a non-linear space! I see it as circles because; I feel it’s never really a watertight compartment. Therefore, I see it as a non-linear space. Each of these circles has a life span and pace that is independent of each other, yet dependant on each other. If we consider a) child, b) adolescent, c) adult and d) death as four main stages of life, each of these circles are simultaneously exhibiting various stages. For eg. Theoretically I am and I am seen as (by others) an adult. Yet I feel like an adolescent in my professional life. This concept stared me in face as I was reflecting on what is happening in my professional life at the moment. I am simultaneously an adult and an adolescent and may just enter the toddler stage once again. It’s exciting! This awareness gave me a kind of a kick, you see!

I find myself in an adolescent stage of my career. Almost like what I was when I was 15. At 15, I was full of ideas. I wanted to do everything at the same time. I was willing to do hundred things at a time. It was a time when my parents, family members, friends and almost everybody wanted to know, what I wanted to do with my life. Everybody had a suggestion and an advice. I had so many options and everything looked so attractive. The options ranged from being a lecturer to getting into National School of Drama. It was exciting at the same time confusing. Somewhere down the line I decided to do what my father recommended. I don’t think it was a choice of my heart. It was however the most logical choice and the most dependable option, as it came from my father for whom I had stars in my eyes. So the decision was made and I put my heart into it. I still remember that journalism was my first option. Yet Dad’s option was a more practical one. It was the sunrise industry and I deiced to do Hotel Management. It was a good decision, too! Working in hospitality sector with one of the best employers in that industry, groomed me as a professional – physically and mentally, both. I got international exposure, as well. Neither dad nor I had foreseen the way media has exploded in last 15 years. Had we visualized that, I may have been doing just that today. The reason I wanted to journalism was because it was a logical field of work for my natural talent to write. But the thought then was, it is not going to bring in big bucks and world exposure. In hindsight, seems like such a foolish thought. However, my love for writing did not diminish and I picked up the threads when I started blogging. I was back to my first option, in a way!

The love affair with hospitality business continued for 15 years in various organizations in various roles. It took turns with every new organization that I joined and has seemingly reached a plateau at the moment. I am once again in search of a career that will satisfy my need to make a difference. I am looking for a space that will give me opportunities to write. I am longing for company of people where my cognitive needs are met with. Let’s face it that most of our waking hours is spent at work. Given that, I need intelligent company around me. I am thirsting for personal growth. I was looking forward to personal growth as a 15-year-old girl and am once again looking for personal growth as a 15-year-old professional. I am an adolescent all over again. No difference in my state of being! But there is a big difference in the circumstances. Now, there is not much advice, not many suggestions. Parental support is different. It has changed from “helping our girl decide” to “standing by what my girl decides”. The same people who wanted to know what I wanted to do in life now question me as to “why I am doing this to my life, i.e. playing with fire, risking all that is stable and comfortable etc. etc.?” It’s going to be a seemingly adult decision. Yet I know that it will have all the maturity of an adolescent. Risky business this is and scary too!

It’s risky because it’s not about just changing the organization to get a higher designation and pay packet. I am contemplating changing the field of work, it self. Scary cause I may not succeed and may then have to start all over again, face the music and hear the “I knew this will happen” from people! Success is important to me and I have so far succeeded in whatever I have done. So given the odds, the likelihood is that I shall succeed in the new field as well. Frankly, the decision to make a change is done. It’s only a matter of weighing the highest probability of success between the two options. Having said that, the minute I enter the new field of work, I see myself at a toddler stage. Taking tentative and baby steps as I pick up domain knowledge and club it with my expertise gained from past assignments.

That is why I feel that life is a circle! I find myself coming back to the same stages of life again and again. It enriches my personality. Indeed I grow after each experience.

I am struck by my own capacity to behold many roles all at once. I am grateful for the ability to go through various stages simultaneously with a clear head. Had I not had a clear head, life would have been one hell of a mixer-grinder, I suppose! I am happy that I remain the person that I am while dealing with all these stages of life. While I am dealing with this personal need to grow and change, I am faced with situations at home, within the family and within the work group. I am dealing with these situations holding the roles as a wife, a family member, a daughter, a friend and a Boss. That does not change. No one really makes allowances for me just because I am going through the famous “mid-life crisis”. I don’t make allowances for myself, so why should others? I may choose to see this as professional adolescence, yet fact remains that I am not an adolescent in worldly sense. In the larger scheme of things I am an adult!

I see myself as an eternal learner. Reminds me of David Kolb’s learning cycle.

Every concrete experience leads to a new reflection leading to a new concept, which further takes me to a new situation and back to a new experience. J It’s great to be a child, an adolescent and an adult all at the same time in different spaces.

I think, that this is true of every relationship also. Each relationship is born, goes through the growing up pains (which we so nicely call maturing), then stabilizes and hits a plateau and finally dies when the life of that relationship is over. On the face of it, it looks so simple. Yet it’s the variables involved that make it unique. Life is a complex circle! A beautiful one!

Rishta

2010-09-08T20:46:00.005+05:30

Ek rishta purana

Budhe bargad ki chudail ka

Naani ki kahaniyon ka

Naanaji ke dulaar ka

Ek rishta kitabon se mera

Atoot , Nishabd, Nirantar

Meri saason se jooda hai

Aur dil khol ke lootata hai

Ek mere bachpan ka rishta

Tab bhi jhijhajkta tha aur aaj bhi

Lagatar mujhe milta raha

Do kadam saath chalta raha

Ek rishta bhaybhit saa

Hichkichata aur murjhaya sa

Kabhi dhayrya se aage naa badha

Magar kabhi toot bhi na paya

Ek hai rishton se rishta

Ghanghor baarish mein dhoop sa

Sanvedana ka Intzaar ka

Jinda hone ke ehsaas ka

Ek rishta benaam sa

Meri ruh mein samaya

Mano toh dhadkan ki tarah

Shayad Ishwar ki den tha

Ek rishta kahi kho gaya

Dosti ka, vishwaas ka

Achanak haathon se choot gaya

Aasoon banke palkon mein bus gaya

On a rainy day!

2010-07-13T15:51:00.001+05:30

A cry so raw so filled with pain
Alive in my ears even now
Surfaced again and again
As she struggled to cope

The nest! Washed and gone
She searched afar eyes filled with hope
Fluttering her damp feathers
Jumping from bough to bough

Time will heal I thought so!
Yet the cry in my ear
Refuses to go

I wander afar in hope to elude
When it dawns
I may turn or fold my hands
Yet how will I drown the piercing cry?

Such a small being
Such a dainty thing
So much grief
So little to hold

She looked up at the sky
And seemed to ask
Where have you taken my babies?
And why?

The frantic pace and the starved soul!

2010-04-11T09:46:00.005+05:30

Its a new space for me to be in! A space where I feel so disconnected from the net these days...

I am wondering if i have reached a saturation point with all the information pouring in...

I am possibly driving myself nuts by too much work on the laptop...

I am tired and need a break on the seas or in highlands somewhere away from the humdrum....

The lure of the cities unknown...

I long to set sail for the lands unseen...

My mind wanders on the roads winding high...

I paint a picture of the valley beyond....

The meandering path beckons me

The trees are lush and tall rushing to meet the sky

I come to the edge only to be spell bound

Awed by the vast expanses

To take the bridge across

Or to descend to the valley below

To embrace the risk on the other side

Or to unfurl the mysteries of the deep

I am undecided, as yet!

In the moment

2009-12-17T00:35:00.002+05:30

The listless wandering mind

The call of the wide seas

The pull of the land

Neither makes sense to me

The ambiguity and indecision

Hand in hand on the wet sand

The restlessness and inactivity

Neither makes sense to me

The desire to take the plunge

Held back by a frustrating need to float

Swaying on the string of insecure security

Neither makes sense to me

A huge tree fallen to ground

Revealing decaying roots

Seemingly arrogant yet so weak

Just when it seemed to be dying

One leaf sprouted defying

Fragile and oozing strength of life

Both make perfect sense to me

Like the circle

Neither a beginning nor an end

I feel free to embrace the confusion

I feel free to chase the closure

Neither bothers me in the moment

I am free!

But have I freed myself?

In the moment

A flower is born

2009-10-12T20:56:00.002+05:30

The sky was overcast

The stones dark and dry

Awaiting the downpour

I walked past the crevice

As usual and stopped

There in the recesses

I saw a tiny bud

It was strange

Stone giving birth

It was a moment to behold!

I was drawn to the crevice

Every day! I watched

The bud was inching forward

Growing, acquiring new colours

The progress was slow

The struggle was on

I was anxious

I was scared

Today the bud is out of the crevice

Today the petals are unfolding

Today the core will reveal

Its secrets!

The dew is soothing its pain

As the sun kisses the tip

The breeze infusing new energy

And the bud is transformed

A flower is born

Still green from the pains of birthing

Shy and not fully open

Peeking at me eager and mischievous

I rejoice the new-born

I gaze fondly and I reach out, almost

I realize… the bud needs no help

To blossom!

The Sting Operation

2009-09-06T23:22:00.014+05:30

The recent times have been the best for the likes of me. Our clan has flourished over the last few years especially in the suburbs of mega cities like Mumbai and other metros. You see most of our folks feel that the larger the city the better. Till the recent past, say as early as about thirty years back, we used to stay in large colonies in jungles and swamps. As the jungles started thinning out we moved to the edges. The swamps were not spared either. Most of them were re-filled and put to use under the new fangled schemes of the reclaimed lands. It was not only our population that had grown! In fact I had heard the parents and older guys talking about the competition that we, the mosquitoes faced from the human beings.

I was born in one such swamp on the outskirts of a wasteland. The entire clan was waiting fervently for my birth. You see it had been a long while since a female was born into the clan. I suppose, I need not elaborate the superior status that the females of my clan enjoy. We are gifted with the capacity to sting causing illness and destruction to human race. All hopes were pinned on the eggs laid on the surface of superbly slimy, greenish-grey water puddles. The members of the clan had been to various places and pledged offerings of various types of blood, shit, garbage and whatever they could think of, to all the deities of the world. The head of the clan had even risked visiting the lord at the dumping ground, behind the huge building from which the humans managed their cleaning operations. It was big deal you see, to be able to get into the dumping ground. One would assume that a dumping ground would be easy access for our people. But mind you it was easier to get into the building itself than the dumping ground! I am told that the security here was higher as more than just garbage was dumped there by the men of foul means. Anyway coming back to the point, every single mosquito was silently or openly hoping that I would be born a girl. And lo! Girl I was.

“Isn’t she a beauty? Such beautiful mouth brushes and what a thorax!”

“Wow, mark my words she is going to make history with those superb antennae.”

Such and more comments were made by the humming and whining females gathered to see me break out from the egg. What a stroke of luck for the rest of the clan! I was the darling of the group. Now they could hope to renew the war against humans. I was the original Anopheles reborn to avenge the pride of the family of Culicidae.

The clan raised me with much care and love. The oldest member of the clan, Mr.Toxhorynchitinae, was assigned to oversee my training. He had an impressive body of work with an impressive name to go with it. But to us he was simply Guru TC. I was given the best of training about every possible skill required to make a success of the war that we were fighting. It started with flying classes. Everything depended on how I would make an entry, how precisely I could land and most importantly how efficiently I could take off for the next flight. This I realized was the first key to long survival beyond the customary 2 weeks. As far as infecting the men is concerned, I had learnt how to sting from my mother’s womb, so that was not something to worry over.

My Guru chose to put me under tutelage of the most experienced flier. His name was Crane Flier. He had been in and out of thousands of houses and had landed on the most number of hands, faces, legs and such surfaces available at large. I was put through several hours of grueling flying classes. Initially I used to feel tired and often landed haphazardly on the stagnant water and dried feces. Gradually though I built up strength and could fly without stopping for as much as 10 seconds. Then I was cleared to get on to the next level. Crane Flier told me that if I had to make a success of my flight and landing, I need to be very careful of what surface I choose to land on. Landing on the left side of any person seemed to be most dangerous. A lot of my friends had met a bloody end while sitting on the left hand of the human beings. It was so easy for those humans to tap us off with the right hand.

By now I had started attending more than one class. While I enjoyed flying, I needed to know more. Guru TC had told me that my purpose in life was to be of use for the greater good of mosquitoes of the world. I was destined to be the savior and inspiration for all. My aim and goal in life was to bite as many human beings as possible and once I had come of age, I was expected to spread the malaria far and wide. That was the best weapon that our clan had against the rising numbers of species called man. While I knew about our weapons, I needed to know about theirs too. I was no ordinary mosquito. I had learnt to take off after landing in less than half a second. Not a small achievement! I had inherited my brains from my father’s side and courage from my mother’s side.

So I set out gathering knowledge on their weapons. I pestered the oldest mosquito in our wasteland. Everyone called her the Fortune Fly. She had great experience of various lands and had survived over 14 days when I approached her. Such a long life was totally unheard of in our society. She was weak these days and had broken her left wing and right eye in the last attack that she led against the filthy humans. So she set about down-whining all the knowledge that she had gathered over the years to me. Right hand seemed to be the most powerful weapon that all humans possess. Other than this they use all kinds of gooey stuff that can lead to fainting. They must be really thick skinned to be able to stay afloat after using all those pastes known as repellents. There are some other huge white luminous things that make horrible noise. I have extra sensitive antenna and can pick up the thin sharp noise miles before that giant looms up in front of us. Then there are the huge things hung on windows that they call mosquito net. These are not so difficult to negotiate, I soon learnt while out on a date with my would-be suitor. Some other things that we come up against in our part of the world are newspaper rolls; blindingly white yards and yards of stuff around the sleeping areas of the humans and some horrible smoky things coiled in corners.

Armed with all the information above, I debuted into the war in a high rise building on the edge of the swamp. The first day was a success. I got the sweet salty taste of blood the hard earned way. Later in the evening the leader of our swarm told us that 6 out of 102 folks that I had visited in the early evening were now looking dull and had already pulled out their woolen clothes and may be visiting a doctor. We celebrated by sharing the blood that I had carefully carried in my antennae.

Life was a roller coaster ride as the minutes and hours progressed. I was a veteran at biting and stinging by the end of 72 hours. My strike rate had gone up and I could infect as many as a hundred and more folks in a day. I had just returned with my swarm of boys that day. The night had been exceptionally busy. We had taken up a crusade in the new complex where the residents had piled onto the grounds for a night of revelry. Some of us had perished, some injured and some defeated. But all in all the night was a success. We were relaxing by the dark wet patch when I was challenged. I was feeling on top of the swamp as I had infected a record number of humans that night. I was here there everywhere!

“Andromela, don’t think that I don’t appreciate your success, but I still think you are far from being the best amongst the best.” Spoke the Young Turk, Antopodes.

I felt stung first time in my life. Yet keeping my cool outwardly. No point in getting anxious when I knew that he was simply jealous. The creator had robbed him of his sting since childhood. Yet my curiosity got better of me and I asked, “What makes you say that?”

“You can only be called the best if you enter a place that I tell you and infect the humans in that house and return back to us.”

Not the one to be put down, I accepted the challenge blindly. Evening 8pm was fixed as the time when I would be introduced to my challenge. I decided to catch a wink before the task was due. The swarm set out well in time to reach the destination. Antopodes was leading. He took us far out over to the other side of the swamp. Not our regular route. I wondered when this fellow had been to explore the unseen parts of the swamp. Anyway the air here was cooler and thinner. It was easier to fly and we soon came upon a set of newly built houses. As we buzzed through I saw that the houses had large open windows covered with the infernal nets and good light and air. The drain was well covered and the pipes were invisible. Thriving and surviving in these conditions would be so difficult. But I could not call it off without hurting my ego and pride. So I hummed my way to the house that Antopodes had marked as a challenge.

And what a challenge it was. The Windows seemed to be sealed with no opening. The entry was tricky as I saw that it was a three door circus. There was an iron front door concealing a solid wood door which in turn was hiding a door with a fine quality net. And the three were never opened together. The net door was firmly closed before the wooden and the front door opened. The drain pipes were covered with fine net also. I was stumped for the first time to make an entry into the mosquito proof fortress. I was more determined than ever to prove my expertise and establish my supremacy by breaking and entering this particular place. So I decided to stake out at the place and look for the best possible opening.

After waiting for endless minutes and hours, I figured out that the best way to get in would be to find a carrier. I decided to wait at the entry door. Soon it became apparent that not much activity happened here. And no material was taken inside the house without checking for flies and mosquitoes. No vendor was allowed inside the main wooden door. All the vegetables and newspapers were checked using a strange weapon that I had not yet encountered. It was oval shaped and had a net on it with a handle. I heard the maid calling it a racquet. I wondered if there was any similarity to crickets of our world. The maid moved it over the stuff that entered the house and also the people who came in. I saw the flies dropping limp and almost dead when this weapon was moved over all things.

I went back to the swarm of friends who were waiting a safe distance away to discuss what I had seen. All of us agreed that the challenge was beyond any difficulties that any one of us had ever faced. I was told not to risk it in my condition. You see I was ready to lay more eggs! But my ego was pricked and I could not back out from the sting operation. It was a matter of pride. So after much discussion, I realized that the only way to get in was to launch myself on the maid who seemed to be the only one coming in and out. She was the only one not being checked by the racket. We finalized the entry exit route through the maid and I set off for the battle.

I waited for the maid to appear again and quickly launched myself on her hair when she opened the door. I was finally inside the fortress. To be honest, I was scared as I was carried inside on her person. What if somebody came with that racket? But nothing happened. I managed to escape into the dark corner of the house. I waited till my humming came back to normal and decided to find my victim. There was no point in taking back the blood from the maid. That was easy enough and no good to establish my supremacy. I need to take blood from the head of the house. From my hiding post I realized that there was a huge woman moving from one room to the other, who seemed to be giving orders. Everyone around her seemed to be obeying her. So I decided to target her.

I waited for the correct opportunity and soon saw the woman heading towards my hiding place. I was scared for a minute and wondered whether she had sensed my presence and decided to kill me. The entire swamp was before my eyes -- my mother, my loyal swarm of friends and my guru! I had not even said good bye. I shut my eyes and gathered my antennae close to me waiting for the end to descend upon me. But a few trembling seconds elapsed and nothing happened. I was convinced that the lord of the swamp was protecting me.

It was a now or never situation. I had to sting now. I gathered all my courage, spread out my antenna as long as I could and landed on the ample surface on which the woman was sitting. She cried as I stung and drew the blood. Oh! The sweet taste of blood that has never been sampled by our kind of folks. I was euphoric and heady with success. In my sense of glory I forgot to fly away immediately and barely missed the hand that would have crushed me. As I took off to me safe hiding place the hand caught my left antenna at the back. It pained a lot. But I needed to lie low and not make a whisper of a humming so that I would be safe. Within seconds the house was full of smoke. Those guys had started lighting the coils in each corner and had started spraying some liquid in dark corners. The combined smell took its toll and I fainted.

I opened my eyes slowly and looked around. Was I dead? There was no sound around me. Where was I? The place looked familiar. I was in the same hiding place. That means I must be alive. Now all I needed to do was get out of this place. I inched out of the place slowly looking for the maid. I decided to switch the place of hiding to rest in her thick, dirty smelly hair. Much better than the corner that had no dirt or grime. My broken antenna was slowing me down. I could not see the maid around. In fact there was no human presence. My escape route had vanished leaving me aghast. I had given up hope when I sensed the door opening and to my great relief the maid walked in. But she was armed with a racket. I slid back onto the smooth brown corner that I was in. The maid moved around the entire house and was about to point the racket to my resting place, when the woman shouted at her to stay away from the mandir. God bless my soul! Here was my one and only chance to escape. I gathered all the strength that was left in me and landed on her hair. She proceeded to scout the nooks and corners looking for me. Then she swept the whole place and finally collected all the dirt to be thrown out of the house. I did not have to wait long for her to open all doors. The second she opened the front door, I took off and flew all the way to meet my friends. I dared not look back. The mission was accomplished. I was successful in meeting the challenge thrown at me.

The Sting Operation was finally through!

Routines … love them or hate them…still follow them!

2009-08-21T19:06:00.014+05:30

The Ganesh festival is round the corner. Across India and maybe even around the world this is one routine that all the Ganesh devotees love. My family celebrates the festival too! The preparations start much before the D-day at our place. Not so much in terms of making the goodies for the feast or the decorations for Ganesh murti. It’s more in terms of setting stage for the expected schedule of events that will unfold for the 2 days that the family meets. The time of puja, the lunchtime, the arguments over breakfast at Mani’s, the menu for Prasad lunch and everything else is absolutely predictable routine. The guest list is predictable, so are the entry and exit lines of the guests. The conversation topics of the close family are the same every year. The close circle enjoys taking pot shots at the distant relatives who drop in for Prasad. The relatives I am sure do the same, once they depart after feasting on the mouth-watering Prasad for lunch. Its absolute routine stuff. Nevertheless, it’s a routine that all of us enjoy! It starts with planning what will be the surprise announcements, which are privately circulated to all members of the family, who then suitably act surprised and happy for the announcements. It ends with all family members promising to plan a picnic so as to improve the bonding and declarations of keeping in touch!

Another interesting routine that we go through - en masse - starts unfolding in month of May. We start speculating the arrival of rains. Invariably the rains are late. Then we worry our heads over the delay and discuss the fall out of global warming. Finally when the rains arrive, we wish that it would stop raining so that life would be free of dirt, grime and rotting garbage. It does not end here. When the rains start receding we get into the famous panic of the lakes and water reservoirs not being full! The beautiful aspect of the rains is the almost routine rainy day picnic to a nearby hill-station, getting soaked to the last fibre and then huddling together for the steaming corn on the cob along with hot bhajiyas and a cup of cup. Wow!

Talking about picnics, I am reminded of the routine that my husband and I go through every 15 days of late. We talk about taking a vacation and the burning need to take time off from routine J Most of my friends also follow the routine of discussing and planning of a holiday for self and family. But none of us convert it into a reality! Most of us are at a stage in our careers where long absence is not possible OR may be dangerous ;). If all that is sorted, then we are faced with the challenge of coinciding the dates when all members can be away from their respective routines. So all in all, we have developed a routine of planning a holiday. Just to break the routine!

Some routines are traditional. For instance, every South Indian girl is enrolled in a dance and singing class as a matter of routine. It’s a given task, never questioned by anyone in the community. I have also seen them loving this routine. Or take the case of a routine enquiry thrown at all newlywed couples. Every couple faces the enquiry about when will they give the good news – read as expecting a baby - irrespective of caste, religion, geography and social status. The only change to this tradition, nowadays is the time when the enquiries start rolling in. In olden days the enquiry would start within 3 months of the marriage. Today the elders of the family are willing to hold their aspirations for as many as 5 years!

Some routines are customary. Like washing feet and covering your head before entering a place of worship, be it anywhere in India.

We are at times not even conscious of some of the routines that each one of us follows. One of them, I think is praying to the Almighty in times of difficulty and crisis. I know a lady who is a complete Atheist. She professes that she does not believe in the concept called God. So much so that when we were traveling to various locations in India, she refused to enter those places of interests i.e. monuments where people also pray and worship. I was surprised by this extreme display of atheist values. Yet, I saw her pray – which she denies – with her hands folded and clasped together, kneeling on the floor and eyes tightly shut, when her sister was supposedly caught in the recent terrorist attacks at a city hospital.

Some routines are fashionable. Like falling in love. Most of the population on this earth goes through motions of love in teens – used to be late teens in my time, but it is early teens these days. This routine is almost always accompanied by the high drama of parents not approving and the kidults (wonder who coined this word!) rebelling, followed by eventual fall out and settling down for more compatible acceptable prospects.

In my professional life, I have seen (and also been a party to!) folks invariably going through the routine of appreciating the previous employer as against the current one. I have observed that for most of us, the previous employer always seems to have the best practices and standard processes. It’s so convenient to forget that almost all of us are equally dissatisfied with the ex-employer while working there, isn’t it?

I use a routine to break the monotonous weekly routine. Confused? Don’t be. I am simply talking about my Saturday routine. I look forward to all Saturdays because it breaks the routine of the weekdays. It gives me respite from dancing to the tune of wall clock on weekdays. However, funnily enough, my Saturdays are also a routine. I get up late, laze in the bed, say bye to the husband, make myself a cup of tea, surf the net till I am hungry, fix a brunch, eat while watching TV and watch TV while dozing, almost reluctantly go into the bedroom and sleep soundly, until being rudely woken up by some caller… and so on and so forth. I simply love this routine Saturday. It’s my day!

I am sure all of us have personal routines that we enjoy. And I am not referring to the mundane routines of waking up, brushing teeth, crapping, having tea, taking shower, getting ready, going to work and so on till we sleep and wake up again. I am sure there are routines unique to every person. Be it a dance routine or an exercise regime or a visit to someone special or a shopping spree in weekend bazaars. It exists!

There is no escaping the routines. Its inevitable just like the seasonal routine of Nature around us. Its as true as the birth and death routine of life. We get bored of the routine and often feel like running away. We seek new things to do. We crave for adventure and challenge. We move to newer pastures. All to break from the routine! But there is no denying that inspite of all the breaks that we may take and new things that we may pursue, we still lapse into routines.

There is a comfort in it, isn’t it?

Perplexed

2009-08-19T23:16:00.005+05:30

I feel perplexed, confounded, mystified, confused, at a loss, puzzled, baffled, bewildered or thrown! I feel different at different times or sometimes all this together. And then again I feel this and that too! In general the feeling is totally utterly all the things I said above. Why?

I mean what am I supposed to feel when I realize that random folks on the street are staring at my boobs? And they have various expressions on the face.

Expression one --- “?????”

Expression two – “!!”

Expression three – “@*&%$$^*@”

The above three are the most common discernable and oft repeated ones.

Other than this I feel utterly perplexed that SRK can get the media to dance and gets so much air time.. Whoa! He is on every FM station and every channel and every news paper shouting “Its no big deal”. Yeah! I believe that…

I am at a complete loss when people turn around and ask me, “what’s wrong with me?” Figure it out yourself man. How do I know what’s wrong with you when I don’t see anything right in the first place ... how do I know what’s your idea of right?

I am confused about why the local trains are smelling like Nilgiri(eucalyptus) oil these days and I am thrown by the number of people wearing masks while getting on the train, promptly removing it when asking for a seat and then putting it on while getting off the train.

It baffles me when my co-passenger asks me, “Are you Mulund?” Do I look like a suburban train station? It took me a while to figure out that the question is “Are you getting off at mulund?” which is invariably followed by a booking request for the seat that I occupy…And hold your breath, cause these days it’s also for a standing space on the foot board J

I am bewildered that a man hits a woman while they are walking down the pavement and neither breaks their stride… She says nothing and neither does he! Two minutes later they are sitting on the bench furtively smooching… beyond comprehension. Neither is more than late teens of age... Some passion, huh!

I am mystified that I have not yet learnt the art of talking without stopping to breath. Some folks do it , you see. And they talk for as much as 15 minutes non-stop. Try doing it for 5 minutes by the watch… I am certain most of you will be out of breath ....

I get thrown by folks who are blessed with an immune system as far sense of smell is concerned. These folks almost always decide to relax in an AC theater and start by taking off the shoes! Aaahhh … what a comfort it is ... the stench… Shudders. But that’s ok… for the blessed ones!

I am puzzled … cause I am now feeling great! Sharing does help…

So what if there are going to be more random folks staring with many expressions tomorrow ;) --- at least they get to see the most magnificent pair of twins around ..ha!ha!

A whisper on my lips

2009-08-15T20:09:00.006+05:30

She was getting ready to go out for a date. A chance date that had materialized out of the blue yesterday! She was home to spend some time in solitude, fix the leaking roof and sell the produce from small patch of land in the house that once belonged to her parents, now hers to tend to. She rarely sold the produce as she felt that the caretaker should benefit of it. The caretaker had been in the family for generations and traditionally the produce had been handed over to his family at a token amount of 1anna earlier, 1 rupee today. She often came home when the pressures and bustle of the city got to her. Being a freelancer had its advantages and usually she could take off at will to be in her childhood home. This time the attraction was the Festival of Performing Arts.

Yesterday’s event was special as her best friend was performing a ballet. She decided to reach the venue ahead of the actual show time in the hope of catching up with her before the show. As is always, backstage was extremely busy and she spoke with her friend for a total of five minutes with many interruptions. She decided to let her friend get on with preparations of the show, with a promise of dropping in at her place for lunch on Sunday. Now left with some time on hand, she decided to stroll through the exhibition stalls lining the premises of the huge auditorium. The shops were predictable – handicrafts of various states, textile merchants, local dresses and scarves, tourist mementoes and cards, a small book shop, a painter’s stall, some traditional craftsmen doing the lac bangles and mehendi and so on. It was still 45 mins to the main show. She decided to park herself on the bench by the riverside and read her book. At the far end of the premises, she saw a vendor selling coolers. She reached there and opted for a kokum soda. The tall glass with lots of ice looked yummy. Instantly refreshed, she walked on to the benches. There was an empty one under a huge banyan tree. That set her up for half an hour of reading.

“Well! Well! Is that really you?” said a voice from above her. She looked up from her book and saw him looking down at her, a distant recognition in his eyes and a question on his face.

As soon as she looked up, the curtain of hair parted to reveal the oval face he knew so well. The question in his eyes was replaced by a warm smile and he was joyous to see her. It was a pleasant surprise to find her there, sitting on the bench by the riverside. He wondered, whether she would recognize him?

She looked up at him and was instantly reminded of how handsome he used to be. Years had only added some grey to his hair. But nevertheless, she felt her heart skip a beat. She stood up in a single graceful movement and came up to his shoulder.

“What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?’ she asked

“Looking for you!” was the cheeky reply.

“Oh sure! And I believe you” she mocked.

Laughing the two of them sat down on the bench. They looked at each other once again, almost certain that neither of them was truly present in the frame!

“I am here to get some work done at my parents’ house and will be here for a couple of days more. My friend – Shalini, you know her- is performing a ballet in about 10 mins. I was early so decided to park myself in the shade and read. One can rarely do this in the city, you know! What the hell are you smiling about?” she spoke hastily and was perplexed to see him laughing.

“You still talk a dime a dozen and still explain everything that you do” he said. “I guess one never changes. I am still tongue tied as I used to be, looking at you and am wondering, if I can persuade you to bunk the ballet and spend the afternoon with me.”

“No chance that I will drop the ballet. Shalini will kill me and complain to her mom about me. I can suffer Shalini’s complaining but you know her mom. Do you really want me to suffer her chiding?”

“So let me join you and watch the ballet?”

She knew the tickets were sold out, yet she did not tell him, hoping to keep his company for a while longer as the two of them walked to the booking counter. Actually seeing him standing there was so unexpected. She admitted to herself that she was happy to see him.

At the counter, he turned to look at her and shrugged his shoulders, “I knew. But I was looking for an excuse to walk a few more steps with you.”

She did not know what to say. Both were suddenly uncomfortable and lapsed into a silence.

Finally, she heard the 3^rd bell and said goodbye to him. As she climbed the steps, he called out and ran upto her. “Let’s meet here around 10 in the morning tomorrow. The café down the road makes superb breakfast.” She nodded and disappeared in the crowd.

He continued to look at her receding back and remembered the time when he had sa

id bye to her 7 years back. It was the end of 3 years of college. Most them had chosen their careers and were moving to different locations. He had been to the station to say goodbye to friends. She was taking the train too. Most of the college seemed to be there at the station. As he said bye to her along with many others, he suddenly realized that this was the last time he would be able watch her smile. The sudden sense of loss was still fresh in his mind. He had an empty feeling in his stomach that time and he realized now that the feeling had been with him through the last 7 years. He realized this, when he came upon her today, sitting on the bench that had been his favourite for the last 10 days. He felt the warmth spreading across his body filling that emptiness.

The ballet was colourful and expertly choreographed. But today, her mind failed to see the graceful movements of the dancers. She hardly noticed that her friend had mastered the art and was now using it as a tool to make a strong social statement. Her mind kept taking her back to the guy standing on steps, telling her; not asking her, to meet him tomorrow. Someone she had rarely spoken to during the college time. They had been together at few parties, exchanged notes, spoken in the corridors but never bonded beyond knowing each other. But her pulse had quickened when she saw him today! She was already looking forward to tomorrow.

The doorbell rang and she heard akka opening the door. Before long she came in to tell her that the crop was ready for her inspection. As she went out akka noticed the pile of clothes on the bed and stopped.

“What is the occasion? What are you piling up the bed for?”

“I am going out to meet a friend. Can’t you see I am getting ready to go out? Tell me what I should wear.”

“Depends on where you are going and who you are meeting?”

“I don’t know where I will be going. I am meeting an old friend from college.” She realized that it had not occurred to her to check where they would be going. Then she remembered that he had spoken about the café. Finally she settled for the jeans and T-shirt. The clock was telling her that she was going to be behind schedule. She rushed out and zoomed out ignoring akka who came running after her to finish the chores and then go out.

She parked here scooty and picked her bag. As she turned, she saw him coming towards her.

“Hi!” he said opening his arms to give her a hug. The gesture was spontaneous and casual. It felt as if this was normal for buddies meeting after a long while. Yet, he felt that she was a bit awkward in his embrace and quickly moved away. He realized that, however natural the action may have been they had never been more than classmates. It’s possible that she may be married and would not be comfortable being hugged by another man. Or may be it is just the awkwardness of meeting someone after long time. Or may be she did not like the way he had summoned her here without checking, if she would indeed like to meet.

“Let’s walk across to the riverside and sit there. There is so much that I would like to catch up on. Where have you been since college? What do you do these days? Where do you live?” he said releasing her and turned on the narrow path to go to the riverside.

They walked in silence, each lost in own thoughts. As they sat on the bench, neither wanted to begin filling the gaps. Both of them were reluctant to be the first one to break the silence. It must have been a while since they were gazing at the water gushing by. They saw a small fisherman’s boat pass by and heard the boys on the boat making cat calls.

“Nothing changes here!” both exclaimed together breaking the awkward silence.

“Sure. And let me remind you mister that we were supposed to meet for breakfast. My stomach is growling. Where is this café? “

He was embarrassed that he had forgotten all about the breakfast and hurried to the café.

“You must be hungry. I am so sorry. It slipped my mind!” and almost as an afterthought he added “but then do you really need to eat. I mean a few meals skipped now and then will do you good you know!”

The waiter approached them before she could answer. If looks could kill he would have been dead. The choice was limited and they settled for eggs, sausages, bread, fruit and coffee.

“So tell me what have you been upto after college?” he enquired.

“I have been busy.” she replied “It takes lot of time, dedication and hard work putting on weight, you see!”

Amidst the laughter, the conversation was easy. They talked of what they were doing professionally and shared success stories from their careers. She was freelancing with newspapers and mostly covered the world of art & artists. He had worked in UK for 6 years with a consulting firm and was back in India on an assignment for the last year or so. Before long the breakfast was on their table. It was simple and tasty. The creamy scrambled eggs and crisp toast were done just right. They chatted about friends from college and who was doing what. He had stayed connected with the college crowd after he took up the posting in UK. Surprisingly, she had never been on any of the networks.

“How is it that you were never there on any of the networking sites? All of us always talk about you and have been searching you on the net. The old bunch of guys will be thrilled to know that I have met you. You must connect up with everyone.”

“I am not so keen on networking sites. Besides my work takes me into interiors, where net access is negligible. All available connectivity is used to upload my work to newspapers. Anyway, let me hear about you. How long do you plan to be here?” She said hurriedly.

He got the impression that she was brushing aside the subject and almost felt as if the disappearance was willful. He did not press the subject and signaled the waiter for the bill.

They returned to the art academy chatting about here and there but nothing in particular. Once at the academy they turned on the narrow path leading to the riverside and walked together up and down the river, enjoying the carefree chat and more importantly each other’s company. She was animatedly telling him about her investigations and report on one of the fast disappearing tribe of artists, how she had done a feature and promoted the cause of basic education for the tribal children , when his cell phone rang. She looked at the watch and realized that it was almost 2pm. She had promised akka that she will be back in a couple of hours and would take up the pending tasks. He finished his call and looked at her apologetically saying that he must attend to some work urgently. It should have been done a while back, but he had lost the sense of time. She was reluctant to part and he seemed hesitant too.

“What is it that you need to do? If it is mails you can do it from my place. I, too, need to finish some work with my caretaker. It will take me a couple of hours to get it done. You work from my place while I finish my chores.” She suggested.

“Brilliant! I have my laptop with me. I can get on to the net at your place and finish my work in a couple of hours. After that I am at your service the whole day. Let’s go.”

She drove back on her scooty all the time wondering whether she was mad to invite him home just like that. He was following her in the hired car and she could see him already working on his laptop. Once they reached home, she showed him into the living room and he was lost in his work. He hardly noticed when she left the room to attend to her duties.

He was composing the final draft when she walked in with two cups of tea. They sipped the tea in silence till he finished his work. It was 4.30 when he finally shut down his laptop. It was humid inside. She was perched on the railing of the verandah with her cup of tea thinking about what to do next. He was watching her from the window and saw her face light up. He knew she had hit upon some scatterbrain idea. She was famous in college days for spur of the moment plans. Inspite of himself he smiled, as he knew that no matter how scatterbrain the idea may be, he was going to give in.

“Let’s see if the motorbike is ok. If it is good we can drive up to the fort.”

She was already fetching the keys and running to start the bike. He followed her and watched as she made efforts to start the bike. Ten minutes later she lost her patience and declared that they should take the scooty and go. He grimaced at the thought of sitting on a small scooty and tried persuading her to take the car.

“But you know that the car cannot go up all the way! We don’t have time to climb up to catch the sunset. Don’t argue for heaven’s sake. Come on. I am ready. Are you coming?” She was already wearing her helmet and waiting for him to climb pillion. He knew that it would be a wasted effort to tell her to ride pillion. Besides, he had not been to the fort ever since he was in town. His thoughts were back into college days when their batch would often pack books and sandwiches and climb up the fort in morning and come down only after sunset. The days when he had looked at her from distance. He had made serious efforts once or twice to ask her out on a date but nothing had worked out. He pondered over how easily, the date that he had sometimes dreamed of had happened today.

She was driving as fast as the small scooty would allow her. He was amazed that the scooty was already climbing up inspite of their combined weight. They reached the plateau in a short while. She jumped off the scooty and threw the keys and helmet at him asking him to park the scooty while she sprinted to the sunset point. By the time he parked the small two-wheeler and joined her, she was gazing out at the setting sun. The view was breath taking. Both of them stood gazing at the setting sun. The sky changed its colour gradually from clear blue to orange to pink to mauve. The water below reflected the colours of the sky. The creator of the universe had squeezed out numerous tubes of paint simultaneously and was freely mixing colours. The painting that unfolded in front of them was unique. Just like the moment that they were sharing. She reached out and held his hand as the venus - first star on the horizon- twinkled in the twilight. He felt a tremor in her grip and the moistness of her palm. He had barely registered the tremor before she let go and jumped down from the boundary wall. He wanted to ask her what it was. He had an urge tohold her hands too and wanted to re-assure her. But she was gone. The moment was lost. Just like the one so many years back. He had asked her out on a date for dinner and dance. She had been on the verge of agreeing and something happened in distance. Her brother had called out to her. She had been looking at him fondly one moment and the next was replaced by fear and regret. The effort was wasted and so also the tickets to the event.

This time, he did not want to loose the moment. He reached for her hand and pulled her back. She saw the question in his eyes. Uncertain of her reactions she pushed him back making to get back to the scooty. He was silent most of the way back and she was chattering all through. She knew she was nervous. She knew that if she had encouraged him many years ago, the relationship may have blossomed into being more than classmates. She had been scared of her parents not agreeing to a match. Socially unacceptable and impossible! Would it have been different if she had chosen to defy society and parents? She had no courage then! So she had decided that it was best not to acknowledge. The ghosts of the past were still present. Though her parents were beyond the realms of dictating, she saw another shadow lurking in background. A shadow of their choice for her!

As she came to a halt in the drive of her home she felt wistful that the day would now end. But he was determined to pursue his moment and invited her out for dinner. She was surprised and thrilled at the same. They agreed to meet at half past 8 and he said he would pick her up. He asked her to wear something formal and be ready for a dance or two. She was reminded of the date that had never materialized so many years back.

She hated this business of having to make a selection of clothes and especially formal. In the end she settled on a pleated white skirt of full length and paired it with a beautiful top in burnt orange. Simple silver choker and ear studs completed her accessories. She was just finishing her subtle make-up when he came to fetch her. She hurried into the living room and

saw him waiting for her. He was wearing a pair of jeans and shirt paired with a jacket, looking COOL! She was about to slip on her usual flat shoes and remembered that they were to go dancing. She discarded the comfortable flats for trendy heels and turned to go. Neither realized what a handsome couple they made.

He drove to the heart of the city and turned towards the hill top. He said that he wanted to try the new lounge cum restaurant that had opened at the hill-top. Apparently the place had a splendid lounge and dance floor. The place lived up to its reputation. The location was awesome and overlooked the river. The dining area was on an open terrace offering the view of the cruising party boats in the river. They were shown to a table by the hostess and thus began an evening to remember! The music was exceptionally good and the band played a mix of numbers that kept them on the floor most of the time. When they came back to the table finally, the kitchen was taking last orders. They ordered simple meal and lingered over the dessert and coffee.

“This place is so peaceful. I am enjoying myself so much. Thank you!” She said

“I am stuffed and feel so heavy. Guess I will need to take a stroll before going to bed.”

“Come on! If you are done, we can take the stroll now. The premises of this place are supposed to be beautiful. We can explore the old structure.”

He saw her face light up at the mention of an adventure and yet there was a hesitation. It took him seconds to get up and pull her chair back. She seemed incapable of refusing, in spite of all the warnings that she heard in her head. She was unsure yet looking forward to the stroll. If she were to be honest with herself she looked forward to not just the exploration of the premises!

The property owners seemed to have developed the pathways and roads very well. At the far end they saw the entrance and the flight of steps leading to the entrance. As they stood at the foot they realized that it was a steep climb.

“Race you to the top!” He challenged her. On the count of three they ran up the steps each determined to win the race. He had almost reached the top when he realized that he was

running alone. She was limping up the steps. Worried he climbed down to check on her. No sooner did he reach the step where she sat, then he saw the wicked smile and she raced to the top, heels in hand and laughing at him. He felt stupid at being tricked and followed her, rage written loud and clear on his face. She was still laughing when he reached her and pulled her to face him. Her laughter froze as she sensed his anger. Instantly scared, she thought that she had crossed the line. Men, she knew hated losing, especially to a woman! This was going to be a repeat of all her past experiences. She braced herself to face whatever was to come.

He saw the quick succession of emotions reflected on her face. The laughter replaced by fear, then worry and then resignation. He was shocked out of his anger and wondered where did the fear come from? His grip on her arm slackened and expressions on his face changed.

He was no longer angry. She saw the confusion on his face and sat down with a resolve to share her past and present with him. He leaned forward with a resolve to drive away the fear. They looked at each other with a question on their lips.

They sensed an answer a mere whisper away!

Feelings and More

2009-08-13T23:12:00.002+05:30

Finally, I wrote something... Its been so long and I was getting worried whether I had recahed a permanent block. The famous writer's block and all that..

But no fear of that.

I have just written some stuff on my other blog. -- www.feelingsnmore.blogspot.com

Actually its the first post on what I plan to develope as a subject based blog. The subject is - applied behavioural science.

Having said that , rather written that let me share what else I have been writing.

And hold your breath.. I have also written a short story. Its really short ... just 7 pages! ;)

I will publish that after sometime, just so that I don't shock all my innumerable followers with the sheer creative brilliance..... Apne aap ko boost karne mein kya jaata hai. Mera blog hai ... main khuch bhi likhoon!

So long..... till the next post ......"A whisper on my lips"...

Psst... I am not finiding the courage to publish the story ... yet!

The Art of Hosting

2009-05-03T14:49:00.025+05:30

My association with hosting people for lunch and dinner goes back to my childhood when my parents would host their friends and relatives at our place. As I grew up I acquired the traits of being a host from the two of them. My husband and I have a fairly large social circle. We both are foodies. We have friends who enjoy food as much as we do. Naturally, the fall out is getting together to enjoy great food in great company. We enjoy hosting at our place. We enjoy being guests as well. It gives us opportunity to smaple different types of food and beverages. And boy have we been to different types of functions! Some memorable, some lip smacking (a Parsi Lagan nu Bhonu will qualify tops for this one), some unforgettable and some immensely forgettable!

One of the most memorable functions that we attended was a traditional wedding lunch. The food was to be served in a “pangat”. This is typically a set-up where the table is laid for a traditional meal and food is served to the guests by a bevy of stewards known as “wadhapi” in Marathi. The table would seat at least 20 people in one row. Another 20 facing them and 20 back to back and so on!

The fare in these meals would be a set menu. Batata bhaji, Alu chi patal bhaji, Varan-Bhaat-limbu, Masale bhaat with clarified desi ghee(clarified butter), Chutney, bhajji/vade/pakoda and kakadichi koshimbir would be standard. The variation would be in the koshimbir where cucumber would be replaced by tomato. The desserts would vary from Shrikhand to Aamras to Jilebi. The bread would be most likely Puri unless in the recent health conscious scenario it gets replaced by chapatti or phulka. The meal would conclude with a mattha - butter milk variation that is tangy, spicy and sweet, a fitting coolant and digestive to the heavy meal. This is followed by a “Vida” made from beetle leaf stuffed with dry coconut, poppy seeds, beetlenut powder and sweeteners. All this is to be wrapped like a packet in the leaf and is fastened with a clove. The most interesting part of this meal is the warmth and the affection with which the caterer would serve and encourage the guests to eat. He would insist would on serving at least one more jilebi or a dollop of shrikhand. Mind you this would have nothing to do with the cash register as his client (your real host) would have already paid up for X number of guests. The caterer is the host who prides himself in being a master at his craft of dishing out extremely tasty stuff and enjoys feeding people.

The other spectrum of the good food is the gourmet dinners that are served in the banquet halls or restaurants of five star hotels. Food is prepared with great care and pride. The emphasis is on turning out an exotic fair from hors d'œuvre (classic starters) of caviars and cheeses to finishing it with the Desserts of exotic baked and tossed variety. The starters would be served with cocktails. The cocktails would be usually served in the large foyers of the main dining room. A smart Maitre de host (senior captain) would then clink the crystal and announce the dinner by opening the doors to the dining room. Stewards in starched uniforms with tail coats and absolutely white aprons would usher the guests to the table with a benign smile.

The ceremony of devouring food would begin with a soup accompanied by breads of various kinds. These meals include entrée dishes of meats and typically the entrée course extends over three meats - seafood, white meat and red meat. The type of dish is carefully chosen keeping in mind that there is no overlap in the taste that the gourmet enjoys with each course. The master chef would never repeat a sauce or a garnish in a single meal. Each Entrée would be accompanied by a carefully selected wine. The courses would be interspersed with salad depending on what the master chef has planned. Often the salads are a clever trick to buy oneself time to prepare and present the next course of entrée. The reason is to keep the freshness of the meat and sauce. The heavy meat dishes are followed by pasta and vegetable dishes. The meal tends to draw to an end with parfaits (flavoured ice) and mousses. The finale is usually a flamboyant display of desserts cooked a-la-minute. The most favourite here is the classic Crepe Suzette!

Kaustubh and I have been guests at one such lavish dinner and enjoyed the pomp and the show thoroughly. In fact the meal was a 2 and half hour affair with a spectacular dance show thrown in. Thankfully the portions were small and meal was slow with plenty of time between courses allowing us to enjoy the company of those at our table. We were uncomfortable when the dinner ceremony commenced, feeling slightly out of place for that gala dinner, being the youngest couple on the cruise and also not as affluent as the senior members of the entourage. Yet the superb meal and thoroughly enjoyable company of the other two couples at our table has made the experience unforgettable.

In contrast we have also, been subjected to thoroughly forgettable meals. Sometimes these have been social events like weddings and thread-ceremonies. The fare has been a complete hotch-potch of everything . One such menu had mocktails as welcome drinks, farsan and pau bhaji for starters, masale bhaat and veg makhanwala for main course, bhel and pani puri on the side, hakka noodles and veg -au-gratin for seconds and finally vanilla ice-cream with aamras for dessert! We have since then avoided all events at this particular location catered by a thoroughly confused chef.

I wonder, what kind of planning (if at all) people get into when they host meals? Kau and I often plan the menu ahead of the party. First of all, we enjoy cooking and like to serve from our kitchen. I mean, what is the point of calling someone to your place and then serving them packed food from restaurants? I have nothing against ordering out, but then why not go to the restaurant and save you the messy clean-up after the party. Yes, we do order out for stuff like chapattis or pick an ice-cream or a mayonnaise off the shelf. But that’s where we draw the line. In fact, even when we serve ice-creams we like to do something with it and serve. Sometimes, it’s with fruits, sometimes sandwiched and so on. We generally try out whatever we want to serve in advance and especially, if it is catered out.

When hosting at your residence, its best kept small. Invite only if you feel like hosting. We have been to events where the host is obviously inviting the bunch of suckers out of some compulsion. What would compel them, I do not know! But the fact that the host disappears for personal work while we are left to do the ordering from a close by takeaway tells me to think twice before being conned into a meal experience the next time. Aisa bhi hota hai! The great part of this is that, we order what we want and are not subject to awful selection like what I have narrated above.

Then there are many others who make great hosts. We have had some delicious meals in company of likeminded friends. We have been floored by the sincere efforts put in by the lady of the house with ample support from the spouse. Floored because it’s so difficult to make time to put together a meal in hectic Mumbai life where both husband and wife are working. The meals have been simple day to day fare, well cooked and served lovingly.

So there are meals and melas! We have been to many and guess we will continue to experience and experiment. We make great meals most of the times but also goof up sometimes. Like when we served ourselves and an unsuspecting friend some awful parathas packed from a takeaway. Saving grace was the fact that we had eggs and bread in house and finished the meal with lots of ice-cream. Whether we are hosts or guests is immaterial, one thing is sure every meal brings a lot of adventure and fun.

Love - the basic emotion

2009-05-02T18:36:00.004+05:30

A stray comment by one of my friends on my Facebook status triggered a thought on various meanings and concepts that surround the word love. I had written on the wall that I was feeling loved and young. To this one of the comments alluded that my husband was taking good care of me. There were others that were equally tongue in cheek and harbored around romance with the spouse. It leads me to conclude that mostly the top of the mind association of love is to a spouse/partner. I felt the romantic in my friends awaken. Some called and some wrote to me, but one thing was sure, I had touched a chord in some more hearts around me. Everyone wanted a piece of that feeling.

In reality, this feeling emerged from having had a wonderful time with a bunch of friends! I continue to feel the warmth and the love even two days after our sojourn.

I have experienced love in many forms, many times! Sometimes as a receiver, sometimes as a giver, sometimes as a witness, sometimes in the flow of being and sometimes in loss. The first memory of love that I have is my grandfather sitting forward with his cheek almost flush to the ground, looking at me unblinkingly and waiting for me to wake up. He was visiting us in Gujarat and was meeting me after a separation of 15 months. They reached our place in the middle of the night. I was a baby and sleeping soundly. Mom told me later that he was sitting in one position for almost 6 hours for me to wake up and look at him. I do remember leaping with joy and hugging him as soon as I saw him.

Recently, I experienced such love with my niece. She is so unpretentious and so completely trusting. I am just the same with her. We have a great time together and I look forward to being with her more oftten. In her playfulness I revisit the child in me.

Both the memories above are linked to childhood. So is this form of love most valuable to me? The love that stems from innocence and is complete in its sharing may be the form of love that I cherish the most.

Spring in my step

2009-04-21T00:29:00.011+05:30

A spring in my step!

Life goes on my dears and how so… Well I find myself in a joyous state! Kyun?? Kyun bole toh aisaeech! Why should there be a reason to feel happy? I am happy cause, I had a great learning trip some time back and the after effects are still with me.

It’s going to be a fun weekend tasting wine. The countdown has begun. I am going to be with friends and have fun with homemade wine. Good Enuff to be happy, naa!

What else? I am happy because I see a change in the way the commuters on the train behave with each other. The usual garma-garami ; pull and push; frustrated mumbling seems to have made way for orderly getting on and off board. Only those who travel by Mumbai locals everyday can relate to my state of joy at this change. Furthermore, the lady near the door beckons to me and points to another one and says she is getting off at Ghatkopar, you can stand there! Wah, kya baat hai. I pinch myself thinking that I am dreaming. I look at my watch thinking that it’s a Saturday and I am on board a train by mistake. Neither is true. I am awake and it’s Monday. Smiles all the way…

I tune in to radio city and toggle between fever 104 and the city. Both play all my favourite melodies. The tracks disappear as the train flies to the destination. I am still humming the melody

Dhadkan Jaara Ruk Gayi hai
Kahi Zindagi Beh gayi haiPalkon mein yaadon ki doli
Bhitar Khishi haans rahi hai
Yeh khishi tum ho
tum hi tum meri janam
Karo Aitabaar...

Milte hi aakhon ne ...

Work is pure fun! Every paper seems to be in place; the meetings happen on schedule and end on schedule too! No complaints today…

What a beautiful day. I wind up work and decide to walk to the marine drive.

I was to meet a dear friend. She calls and says, “Let’s meet at Eros”. Cool! I wait at the old landmark and am busy looking at the changing face of the road that was. When I was in college the road had shops with unassuming windows and drab displays. I had to climb a couple of steps to get into Croissants etc. Today it’s Kamdar and the french windows and display, beyond the window, in the shop is very inviting. While I am debating whether to get inside the shop, my friend turns up and much to my surprise with another dear friend! Too much.. lovey dovey scene ho gaya.

We go for an early dinner and freak out on some good veg stuff at Soam! Well, my husband is likely to say and also some other friends … "Veg?? Good stuff??? How can veg classify for good.. it's gotta be non-veg only" But what the heck… Its good stuff so its good. Who wants non-veg especially in the heat? Frankly, it was not about the food tonight. It was about catching up with friends after a really long time! We yapped and laughed and surprised each other.

The final stroke was getting an auto rickshaw that ran smoothly, no signals on the way, the meter reading correct fair. So I had a great day :)and the best is yet to come.

Husband is making a cuppa chai for me :) :)

Aaj mein upar aasman niche
Aaj mein aage jaman hai peeche
Tell me O Khuda
Ab mein kya karoon...

My mum says apni khushi k nazar mat laga! So here’s the black lining to the silver cloud. Still no word from ….

Relationships and my take on it

2009-03-29T13:36:00.003+05:30

Relationships: The quest for an answer to successful relationships

The other day I met a friend from school. We were buddies then & used to sit on the same bench in class. 25 years ago we shared everything. We looked at the same boys, together played pranks on teachers, bullied other girls into doing our homework and even got punished together. We used to have a great time then and propelled by that memory I was mighty thrilled to see her. We had drifted when her parents moved house to their native place. So the chance meeting in a crowded market was unexpected yet pleasant surprise. I dragged her to my place and time seemed to have come to a standstill. Memories were fresh and we laughed over the childhood till tears gathered in our eyes. She had changed over the years and so had I. She was back in Mumbai and we promised to stay in touch.

When she left, the smile on my lips lingered on and I engaged myself into the routine of cooking dinner. This is one relationship that I cherish and would love to nurture it. I know also that my efforts will be reciprocated equally. Today it is easier as one is not dependant only on postal services to keep the link. E-mails ki jai ho!

What is it about relationships that some survive and some don’t? What are the key drivers to a continued relationship? Are the key drivers same or different for personal and professional relationships OR are the logic / emotion different in both?

I often hear people say that this relationship was doomed from start as it was forced upon me. If that be true, why do love marriages end up in divorce? It’s a relationship of choice, isn’t it? So does freedom to choose a relationship guarantee the success of it?

Let us first define the concept of a successful relationship. In common parlance a relationship that has continued over many years with seemingly no conflicts is a successful relationship. By this logic my relationship with Seema (friend above) is not such a successful one. We were out of each other’s lives for 25 long years. Yet, I see this relationship as successful. The years just melted between us in the chance meeting. This tells me that success or failure of any relationship is very relative. It is relative to how one chooses to look at it. I feel connected with her and hence rejoice the success of this relationship.

In case of parents, family and boss, one has no choice. These relationships happen. You cannot choose who you will be born to and who will be your family. Similarly, you cannot choose who will be your boss at work. Well, largely you cannot! In some fortunate cases this choice is possible.
In these cases, we make the relationship work. As I look closely at these relationships, I see a pattern emerging. The lead and responsibility of laying a solid foundation to success of these relationships; parent-child, boss-subordinate etc.; rests with the one with positional authority. In each case the fabric of a relationship is decided by the tone that the parent or the boss sets. The balance is set by the one in authority. An authoritarian/autocratic parent or boss can give rise to a rebel or submissive child / sub-ordinate. In contrast a guiding hand that gives space and freedom to each other will see the relationship blossom. The balance will help empower the two thus strengthening the relationship.

As I pause to think about relationships of choice, it strikes me that the balance is equally essential here as well. Amongst any two individuals there is bound to be power play and authority issues. The success of that relationship depends how each one relates to each other’s power and holds his/her own. This thought brings me back to the divorce in a relationship, especially love marriages. It’s often seen that one or both partners give up their own power in early stages of wooing and courting in order to make the other person feel good. As the time goes by it can be stifling for the person or partner to constantly give up his/ her power or to carry the load of the other one who depends on the powerful one. The balance is tilted and hence cannot last. Bust goes the relationship, the pink turns to grey and then an ugly black.

Success of a relationship is dependent largely on the acceptance of the role by both parties at each stage in the relationship. Mistaken role plays and misguided sense of responsibility will lead to an imbalance. Such confusion is often seen in family / peer relationships. These are more difficult to map and are largely based on individual choices. Hence we have some cousins or siblings (or colleagues in professional set-ups) who hit it off with each other, while others simply don’t give each other the time of the day. In my opinion it often boils down to non-acceptance of the other person’s individuality and power.

The concept of Choice in a relationship comes into play in case of contractual relationships i.e. relationships born out of or created for a common objective of growth or betterment to business, society, self. We have here as examples various Business associations, Deals and Marriages. In each of the cases people after intense scrutiny of each other would get together. The understanding of the common objective and each other’s needs are spelt out. Both parties seek clarity till it satisfies them. Subsequently they make an informed choice to go ahead or withdraw. Fact remains that continuity of such relationships is subject to the common objectives being met consistently. Where there are people, there is bound to be interplay of personal dynamics and emotions. So it’s about emotional intelligence of the players on stage!

At times I see every relationship is like a machine and needs constant supply of oil and periodic maintenance to keep it in top performance. What is the oil and maintenance in a relationship? The instant answer that comes to my mind is “Communication”! It keeps the gears meshed up smoothly. Communication of needs and objectives and a review of these from time to time is essential. Gears either mesh up too tightly or un-mesh forcefully when this grease is missing. In extreme cases the teeth are bared and broken. It is not easy to replace gears especially when one wears out the other.

Time and tide waits for no man(woman either!). Same applies to an interpersonal relationship too. Best friends of school have at times little to say to each other only because they have not met for years. They drift apart, develop new interests and find nothing in common after school. In contrast, some of us meet after years and yet connect deeply almost as if time stood still and took off from where we met. Spending ample time with each other does not guarantee you the success of a relationship and lack of it does not lead to it withering away.

However, making time for each other especially when a relationship begins is helpful. This is especially true in marriages. I would take this thought further in saying that it’s equally important to give time for a relationship to bloom. Just being together for two hours a day is not a quick fix for strong relationship. Your relationship to your spouse, team or even something as inanimate as your stock needs time to find its feet, stabilize and then bloom. Every moment dedicated to the relationship is the investment in it and it gives itself a manifold return over time. What is the qualifying factor here? Is it the amount of time that one spends with each other or the kind of time? Popular terminology for this is quality time. Today around us we find so many dysfunctional families or dissatisfied consumers. What is the reason? As I look closer, I see that though it’s a relationship of choice, there is very little or no time given to the defined relationship. One can’t expect wine when grapes are neither crushed nor set aside to mature, right? Little wonder then that most marriages in my generation are the weekend marriages of convenience. They are strained and generally break sooner or later.

As I dig deeper, I am becoming aware and just about coming to grip with the phenomenon of social net-working sites. What about a distant fellow sitting in remote location attracts the net buffs? I see my friends chatting away to someone remote on a laptop, but when it comes to having a two-minute conversation with parents or spouse, they have nothing to say. Relationships of convenience! She keeps my house so I need my wife, he gives me a feeling of security so I need a husband, they are there for my child so I need my parents…. So on and so forth! Where is the connect? When one connects to the live persons next to him/her there is a whole lot of dynamics that come into play. That sure can become difficult and too hot to handle. So what do I do…. Turn to the social networking sites! It’s so easy, one does not have to deal with real time emotions and feelings. Safe zone!

Many a people have wandered afar in quest to find answers about relationships and people. This is my small little take on the subject. There is so much more to write. Perhaps later!

CrossRoads

2009-03-15T22:11:00.004+05:30

At cross roads

I am at cross roads today. One is the chosen path of awareness and self-improvement. The medium is being in here and now, recognizing feelings, coping with the same etc. Second is the reality of here and now. The medium is logical thinking, unacknowledged feelings, coping with suppressed emotions etc.

Where forth shall you go, milady?

Time and again I have faced questions, had options and made choices. But today I feel really tired. Tired of carrying with me the unacknowledged feelings, tired of pushing the envelope, tired of making choices, tired of taking the first step…

Which path shall I choose?

परत भेट - भा गो मावलंकर (माझे पापा)

2009-01-21T19:32:00.013+05:30

अनेकांच्या गर्दित
दूर दूर असलेले
नसून असल्या सारखे
जरी पडदया मागे गेलेले

पपा मला भटेले;
पुनः पुन्हा ! पुनः पुन्हा !

ताई च्या मौनातून
माई च्या बोलान्यातून
अक्का च्या करण्यातून
उज्जवल च्या अश्रुतून

पपा मला भेटले
पुनः पुन्हा ! पुनः पुन्हा!

मित्रांच्या आठ्वानित
सुरांमधे भिजताना
कळत- नकळत काकाच्या
हळूच जवळ येताना

पपा मला भेटले;
पुनः पुन्हा! पुनः पुन्हा!

आईच्या स्पर्शातून
भावनांच्या समुद्रात!

म्हणाले हास pampush
मी आहे सुखात!

पपा मला भेटतील
पुनः पुन्हा! पुनः पुन्हा!

जसराज च्या संगीतातून
जी ऍ नच्या लिखानातून
पुनः एकदा बोलतील
गदिमांच्या शब्दातून

पपा मला भेटतील
ही वेड़ी नाही आशा ...

खात्री केली आहे मी
आई च्या श्वासातून
पुनः पुन्हा! पुनः पुन्हा !

Unconscious Processes

2008-11-25T18:27:00.004+05:30

Consciously speaking! ….on the Unconscious

I have been ruminating on various aspects of Unconscious processes for last few days.

The process of exploring the unconscious began with certain observations. My study group discussed what unconscious means to each one of us. The answers varied from “the unawares behaviour” to “gut feeling” to “instinct or intuition” to “something that is underlying to the existential” to “a given process that is unconscious till one is aware of it and is willing to explore”. Interesting mix of expressions! Here, as I write, it strikes me that the meaning is expressed in terms of personal unconscious and nothing that talks about unconscious group processes.

I was introduced to the concept of unconscious processes sometime in December 2007, when I had attended a session on dreams. This covered one aspect of unconscious. Dreams, in my opinion, are expressions of an individual in his/her most fluid state. Dreams happen when one is not physically in a state to analyze i.e.is not fully conscious and is not processing data. The thinking and functioning brain is asleep and the sub-conscious surfaces. I am not too fond of dreams, as I tend to wake up feeling restless the next day. I have tried to note down my dreams and re-visit them to explore deeper to find meaning in it. However the attempts have not added to my learning, so far. In fact, I dream when I have upset stomach and the dreams are often a weird ride through my past and present, consisting of many people and locations. With exception of three dreams, that I remember vividly, there is nothing to look forward to. The ones that I do remember are noted in my memory with dates and details. I see the same dream like a motion picture time and again. The space and location that I am in, in the dream gives me a sense of calm and space. I have noted that I often visit these dream locations when I have met with success or on completion of complicated tasks. So, if I were to interpret it, I would say that this particular location might be my personal haven, a place to retreat and relax, a place that gives me peace.

Two of my close friends have recently shared their experiences of unconscious processes with me. I received both these experiences differently. In one of the cases I felt myself traveling along with my friend on his journey into the unconscious and felt a sense of homecoming when he concluded.

On the other hand, the second narration brought goose bumps to my arms. I felt awed by the magnitude of the experience. I feel that such experiences are possible when one is deeply connected with self and the other. I was also reminded of a similar experience that my mother had shared with me. In both cases, there was transition from one life to another. A stage, I believe where energy is transformed and hence is at a peak in its active performance. The experience hence, seems ethereal. This takes me to my favorite belief that energies of the universe are here to guide me and hold me. It depends on my willingness to be guided and my capacity to hold, how much of this energy is experienced by me. It also leads me to a conclusion that IT(energy) exists, whether it is seen and experienced by me/us or not.

Coming back to the exploration, I was asked, “Why do you want to look at the unconscious?” I realized that it was the mystery and aura surrounding the word that had drawn me to explore. I have often heard PDP and professional members say that there is something unconscious happening here. But, they have rarely explained what they mean by it. In absence of exploration/understanding/explanation, I am inclined to think that this word and expression is being used as some kind of a process for scoring a point over the other/s.

I feel that there are two aspects of unconscious. One is the unconscious of the person. That, which is unknown and is yet to surface within a person! The journey from unconscious to awareness is when the person becomes more and more of his own self.

Second aspect is that of some unconscious processes happening within a group. For example, in a lab nearing the closure invariably someone talks about a death and the group shares experiences around the same topic. Someone attempting to explain what the meaning of unconscious processes is, quoted the above example to me. There might be several such instances of unconscious processes happening within a lab, a family, a society and a group of people. Like in a family expecting a baby, everyone is tuned in to the needs of a pregnant mother, spoken or unspoken.

Freud and Jung are two names that I have heard in conjunction with the concept of unconscious. So I hit the net to find data on unconscious. There are books and more books & papers written on the subject. Interestingly, most of the reading material refers to unconscious of a person. Almost all the reading material refers to the work done by Freud and later by Jung. There is little or no reference to the unconscious processes in T-groups. The reading material describes such processes at most as collective behaviours exhibited by groups. These are often reported back as observations on group behaviour, which becomes a trigger for personal exploration.

Hence, I am left with a thought that when someone says that there is unconscious at play, they are actually referring to their own unsettled, unaware state of mind.

Over a cup of tea

2008-11-19T19:26:00.007+05:30

कूछ बातें ऐसी ही ....

Responsibility, Commitment, Attachment.

What is about expectations and these words that is alive in me for last 24 hours?
It’s my expectation that one should at least be responsible enough to call in and keep the loved ones informed that one is going to be late. In age of superfast tech savvy gen next this is not very difficult. But then, who am I to make such demands? To each his own! Ha!ha! Ain’t that easier said than done?!

Hmm… thinking it over, this action or inaction has nothing to tech support. It is about being aware or having that sense.

But as I explore deeper within self, I realize that it is my need to adhere to stereotypes in a relationship and expect the same actions that I perform. The stereotype of returning home at a certain time, the stereotype of keeping someone informed when I am late, the stereotype of husband and wife. Its my need to get rid of my worry and anxiety. The expectation that family should dine together once a day, is completely baseless. Why? What if it does not? Those upholding the value system are going to give me long list of things on why family should dine together etc. and they may be right about it all. Fact is that it’s my need for company and complete displeasure of eating alone.

Evolution and change is not limited to physical looks alone, I guess. Man (and woman, too!) would certainly think and develop different values from that of the previous generation. So, here I am, on a see-saw, trying to understand and to seek meaning (with zero success) in something that’s different from my expectations. Yet, unable to let go of the expectations and just accept things for what they are.

At the same time, I am quiet thankful that I still have my sanity and not being a complete stereotype of a wife. A chance remark by my brother has left me thinking about the expectations from husband-wife relationship. He said to me utterly frustrated the other day, “G, this marriage business is too taxing yaar! Since the wedding, I find myself shouldering umpteen responsibilities. I am quiet ok with most but am totally lost and weighed down by the responsibility of keeping my wife entertained.” I can understand why and know for a fact that his frustration is shared by at least 90% of my male friends. Their wives seem to have lost all personal agendas post marriage, so much so there are no personal friends, no independent plans, no girls’ night out. May be a routine job or sometimes not even that. Heaven help! This is one stereotype that I can do without.

Interesting the twists and turns of life. The Hide and seek of expectations being fulfilled and not.

कुछ दिल ने कहा
कुछ भी नाही
कुछ दिल ने सुना
कुछ भी नाही

Adios

2008-11-14T16:07:00.004+05:30

I bid goodbye to one of my wedding gifts today. A gas range gifted by a dear friend. It had served me faithfully for last 10 years before finally looking worn out. Just like my relationship with this friend. We shared a close bond for almost 10 years from 1989 to 1999. Time and distance played its part and the friendship is surviving on memories today. Its like a beautiful silk carpet, where threads are loose but the motifs are intact!

Over the years there are so many others things that have slipped out of my life to make way for new ones. People, hobbies, interests, material things and much more. I am looking at the years in two distinct compartments, before marriage and after marriage. Why am I slotting my life in this fashion? Why is marriage the dividing milestone? Well, life sure changed the most after marriage.

In the last few years, I have unknowingly said goodbye to the concept of “me” and “mine”. I seem to have grown into “us” and “ours”. Some of my friends would surely look at it from a feminist point of view and lecture me on preserving my identity and look after myself etc. But honestly, I have only blossomed in this enriching experience called marriage. My individuality is intact amongst “Us”. I have happily grown into the relationship that is “Ours” to nurture.

Another thing that I have parked for a while now is painting. It’s more of an “au revoir” to painting than adieu. In painting I used to find a platform of expressing my thoughts and feelings. The need to paint faded in pursuit of career and youth. However, expression and creativity manifests itself in different forms and I found joy in writing. Very recently, I have discovered that I can write poetry too!

Late night parties, clubbing out, drinking binges and grouping about town has taken a walk out of life. Instead, I find myself reading late, watching movies, doing rounds of theaters and taking off out of town. I do miss the dancing at times!

Sweets are out and fruits are in!

Skirts were out but now they are in!

Friends of adolescence are distant! Friends of today are reality!

Temper is out Patience is in!

Lonliness is once upon a time! Comfort is always a given!

I am wondering whether these are finite changes? Frankly, I am not so bothered about whether the change is absolute and irreversible. I know it will not be so! That’s not me. I enjoy flowing with the moment. I enjoy looking at what has happened. As I explore what feelings are attached to the changes that I have recounted, I come up with one word – satisfaction. I have the satisfaction of having lived every moment to its fullest and having experienced every change in the moment. The transition has been gradual and flowing. I have been listening to my inner voice.

Signing off with a final thought on goodbyes!

Old and new
Jostling along
One moves ahead
One falls beyond

A tear falls
A smile dawns
A flower wilts
A Swing Tilts

He smiled and said,
Adieu my friend!
Au revoir! I said
It’s never the end…

Basic Instincts

2008-11-13T19:21:00.002+05:30

Basic Instincts of a professional

We have all heard about basic instincts of mankind. These are unlearned responses to external stimuli. I am struck by some responses that are specific to the corporate world and are picked up by almost all professionals within first few days. We are so tuned in to these responses that we do not realize how and when we learnt them. These reflexes are instinctive and essential for corporate survival. I have decided to call them the basic instincts of a professional in the corporate world. These instincts lead to certain individual and collective behaviours. I have attempted to document these two aspects impacting professionals like us, in the following paragraphs.

Knowing the power centers – Now does that ring a bell for you? I am sure each one of you has either benefited or lost out due to knowing or not knowing who pushes the button! I believe that a smart professional will instinctively know where the power lies. S/he aligns with the power centers and seals own careers for better or for worse. You would agree I believe that designated authorities may or may not be the power centers. I have often seen the outsiders influencing the ones in authority. These influencing persons are the real power centers and they can make or break a career. In some cases you see the power vested very constructively. Case in point is the powerful chief mentor of Infosys. He has vested his team with the obvious areas of power. Yet he continues to hold the power and moves things at the Infy campus. Sadly, we have very few enlightened ones like him. Most often it is seen that vanity of the man takes away the construct from the power that he holds. It spawns a bevy of below average performers who believe that fawning over the power center will get them results. This, unfortunately, is the vicious circle. One creates the other and neither can exist without the other.

Aligning with the opinion makers – Often the instinct of those who have no opinion. Sometimes it is also the trait of the ones who are small fish and new entrants to the system. Successful leaders instinctively use the opinion makers to bring in change. It has the best of results in most cases unless there is a Mamta making opinions about a Nano! She did not even realize that the power that she was attempting to break would render her powerless. I know, I am digressing here and this is not strictly a corporate example. Nevertheless, I am sure you get the point here. Stay on the right side, if you have no opinion left!

Creating a pressure bank – This is a reaction to unattainable dictates of the management. It is a mass instinct and pressure builds simply by word of mouth. It is often, merely a perception of something that leads to pressure banks within the system.

Flocking – Birds of a feather flock together! Need I say more? Each one of us has been through the phenomenon.

Ignorance is Bliss – This is seen in most people who do not want to make decisions or take a call and close issues. Reasons are numerous. They may be poor decision makers. They may not feel good about something. They may not have necessary authority. They may be hesitant about the facts presented to them. Whatever, the reason such people generally procrastinate decision-making and refuse to acknowledge facts of a situation. They tend to shut their eyes and assume that a situation will resolve itself. In manpower related issues this can be extremely helpful to deal with insignificant inter-personal skirmishes. But it will prove to be extremely dangerous, if one does not recognize to separate the casual from significant.

“I am a Cat” Syndrome – This is typically seen in people with extreme confidence or complete stupidity of mind. They are engaged in activities that are being observed by all. But our man is either a bit over-confident due to proximity to power centers or un-aware as he thinks that he is working in secrecy. He has not disclosed to anyone what he is doing. Typically a cat that eats the cream with his eyes shut and believes that no one can see him.

Woodpecker strategy – People with these instincts keep working at the same thing with same pace for many years. They carve a niche for themselves out of sheer persistence and un-interrupted application.

When People Talk

2008-11-12T22:32:00.003+05:30

When people talk do they have to go on and on?

I had a visitor to my desk today who spoke continuously for 20 minutes. And when he finally left 45 minutes later others on my team told me that I was spared easy, he being unwell. Phew! I had the choice to walk off but decided not to. One does not risk it with the guys who hold purse strings.

I have often wondered what is it that makes people talk so much. There are many kinds of folks. Some are informed and knowledgeable and have much to share. Some have nothing to share but enjoy listening to their own voice. Some feel that unless they repeat everything five times I will not comprehend what they want to say. And there are others who take pride in saying, “let me tell you”.

This last one always amuses me. What happens if I don’t let you…tell me … that is? Hee! Hee! I did that to one of the senior members of the family once. He complained to my dad and wrote off my parents for not having taught me manners. I was so happy. It was good riddens of bad rubbish! Till date!

I am curious about the ones who need to repeat what they say more than once. And this is not because I have not understood what they say. I am fairly ok in the department of grey cells and have no qualms in seeking clarifications when I do not follow what is being spoken. So I have concluded that such people have no confidence in their own oratory skills or articulation. I am also inclined to think that such folks are dim in head and often measure others by own yard stick. They cannot figure out what others are saying in the first attempt. So they assume that others are in the same boat.

The best conversations in my memory have been with people who can speak small simple sentences and are willing to listen as well as contribute with own thinking.
The best lectures and speeches have been where the speaker has established a dialogue with the audience. Fresh on my mind is US president-elect Barrack Obama. He talks to his people and the world around. He talks and seeks a response. And people listen to him transfixed!

There is so much joy in listening.

There is so much creativity in right words.

There is so much expression in poetry.

I feel sometimes that those who can speak abuse the gift of speech so much. We should declare it to be endangered art forms. At least, then I will not have to endure a bumbling oaf for 45 minutes…..

My Song

2008-10-19T18:58:00.003+05:30

I stood in a circle, eyes closed in fear;
I thought for sure that the end was near
The road seemed to fall
In a dead end for all

Ever so slowly I opened my eyes
And felt my hopes rise
Lo! It was no end
Behold! Just a bend

The circle was hope not fear
My eyes dropped a relieved tear
I saw my friends, and gained a step
They said let go; I fell and I wept

Some said jump;
We will hold!
Others said turn;
There is much to behold!

I turned and I walked
I leapt in joy
My lover was waiting
I knew it was no lie

We held our hands
And Looked Beyond
Happily walking
To the rainbow on sand!

In this life again;
I will be born!
With this thought;
I start my song.

My first independent facilitation attempt

2008-10-14T19:30:00.008+05:30

So, I have not been writing in this space for a while now! So what? There was nothing inspiring enough to write for a while. But then, its not only this space but many others that I use for expressing and being creative.

I painted with crayons after so long and had a blast doing that.

I wrote for "Urja" - house magazine of GMPL

I wrote the book reviews for PDP.

I wrote letters to friends after ages.

The wonderful world of words and the gift of writing... :) I enjoy writing and sharing.

But coming to the point and talking about the subject, there is another superb experience that I want to write about. Its about the role play that I facilitated for a group in Worli. This was my first independent experience at facilitation. The group consisted of the residents of Mnagar and SNS team. 12 of us. Some more joined in later. When I started the session, it looked like there was nothing right about it. The keys to Akanksha office were not available. The october sky was overcast and raindrops hit us within 5 minutes of the group coming together. I had almost decided to wind up but did not, simply because of the group's enthusiasm. So I narrated the roleplay to the group in Hindi and gained confidence along the way. As if in support, the keys to the office were delivered to us and the sky cleared!

I was looking forward to what would unfold and expected the group to enact for about 15 minutes. The group was divided in 2 groups amidst much of nominations and happy banter. Once i narrated to them what they were expected to do, I saw the seriousness of the group. I was struck by the intensity with which the group was impacted. They identified so completely with the role play! Slowly the act took shape. The group stumbled upon the impromptu dialogues and the googly of situations. Neither group new what the other had planned and what emerged was a real-life situation with real emotions and dialogues. I was speechless as the group got involved and the role play continued for 40 minutes. After 30 minutes or so, I decided to pull down the curtains and asked the group to close the negotiation. We wound up the situation with a fairly satisfactory situation.

We sat for a de-brief in a large circle. Almost everyone started talking at once. Gradually the chatter stopped and some members, who seemed to be leading the group took over. However the feedback was personal in nature. At this point I intervened and guided the group through a constructive feedback process. I asked them questions that were related to the process, planning, impact, action and reaction during the role-play. One of the "aha!" moments came when the group discovered that they had not planned who they will talk to in the opposite party. This, they realized was a reality for them, leading to issues in resolving current issues about SRA. There were other such moments in the de-brief making the session very "powerful"! And that's the feeling that I am left with. I feel powerful, for having made a successful intervention. I feel powerful for having made a difference. I feel powerful for making the contribution to an activist group. I feel powerful! and humbled by the success...

Mahabharat

2008-08-12T08:03:00.007+05:30

I have been watching the "K Mahabharat" from day one and the one thing that has impressed me is the pace and the jazz of the show. I was impressed by the format in which the serial was launched on to the unsuspecting audience. Whoever, would have thought that the story would begin at a point when duryodhan turns the tables on the Pandavas on that dark night. The episode was shot with lots of dark shades and mind you, I am not refering to the colours that were used. It was the intriguing play of light and shadow and the purposeful hiding of the faces.

I am also happy that we are not subjected to the drab songs sung in hight pitch! No offense to the senior singer from Chopra's time , but I prefer the fast music of this visually appealing Mahabharat.

The outfits are cool and the dudes are a treat to look at. Mac as Ved Vyas was a bit too much! But then, he is super cool and brings in the mad element with him, that I enjoy. I must say even the Yashoda maiyya of old times, can skip the maiyya tag! She sure is ok to look at and wears good outfits(so what if she has only one! After all Manish Malhotra ain't exactly cheap) the head bands are certainly more happening than the lopsided and shoddy crowns of past.

The only one aspect of the serial that takes away the charm is the juvenile special effects! Its ridiculous to call it special effects even. Balaji camp needs to hire some good firm soon. Ekta, hope you will do the needful!

Otherwise "Kahani hamaray Mahabharat ki" Rocks!

The best day of my Life

2008-08-09T08:45:00.004+05:30

Today is the best day of my life... :)

Birthdays are so special. The celebrations begin sometimes a week in advance, sometimes the day before. When I was a kid, I used to start my dance the month before. Planning what dress to buy , what gifts to give, what mom sjould cook for the party and who all should be caled for the party. Just the anticipation would fuel my energies for days. The enthusiasm, has not waned a bit since. I am just as happy to buy new clothes and plan party with friends.

So here's to me...

Happy birth day to MMMMMEEEEEE!

Singh is King

2008-07-23T14:44:00.003+05:30

The nation is singing the song! And why not? We have seen a triumph yesterday for our nation. The Trust vote has gone in favour of the government. N-deal is about to happen on a fast track!

I do not claim to understand all about the N-deal, but if it means that we are edging towards a No-war strategy, I am happy. If it means that we are setting example for the world to drop weapons and take up peace, I am thrilled to witness it. So kudos – Mr. Singh! I feel comforted by the fact that we are now looking forward to "building" as opposed to "demolishing". It is heartening to see that we are being lead by a man who is intelligent, composed and cool. All said and done, it is time we woke up to reality and look out for educated leadership. I am impressed by the dignity that the leader of "Ayes" displays. Full star to you Mr.PM !

Talking about stars, I am struck by the fact that a certain actor is also riding high on his lucky stars. Hits after hits in last two years, packed stage shows, acting with the best looking heroine of the day and the nation singing his song. Keep it up Akki! Way to go!

Reality Show

2008-07-21T22:01:00.004+05:30

Yet another reality show - Halla Bol!

Bachao! Wachwa re wachwa!

There was a time when we wondered if the Humlog and Buniyaad would have any competition. Then came the Saas - bahu sagas. Every channel tried its best to dramatize every permutation and combination of the saas-bahu relationship... As we panted after the twists and turns of the serials, we saw the first Indian Idol emerge.

From then on started the race for reality shows. Today I witnessed yet another show. Anglicized Marathi put me off! Wonder what the die-hard Marathi manoos say to this show?

All I want to say is that, may be the dancers will rescue the show. The only saving grace of show!

Water Locked or..???

2008-07-08T17:53:00.005+05:30

Nowadays I feel more restless than ever. I feel like this fort, locked yet not! Holding many things inside and dealing with increased awareness. Yet free and enthusiastic, looking out at the vast ocean and raring to conquer new horizons!

The increased awareness brings both joy and pain. The joy of knowing and being myself! The pain of being helpless at times .. helpless as those around me find it difficult to adjust to the change in me. Its happened gradually for me and yet its too fast for them. And it all boils down to "all this thing you are doing with behavioural science" .. :)

Anyone find that comment ringing a bell?

On losing it

2008-07-08T17:10:00.004+05:30

I have lost it -- 5 kgs and 3 inches AND

Gulabjamuns .....
Rabadi ..............
Kulfi..................
sevai...................
tender coconut ice-cream...
hyderabadi biryani..........
kheema........................
fish n prawns n crabs..........

Will life return to normal ????

Sure, cause I have found a new strength and a lighter side of me! And a blog that talks all about food :)

Random Thoughts on Authority

2008-06-18T20:33:00.003+05:30

Talking of authority, I am questioning myself, who am I to talk about it. A new entrant into the vast field of Behavioural Science and Sensitivity training! But then, who am I not to talk about it. After all I have been experiencing it in many ways for more than 30 odd years.

When I was born, I exerted my power on the family, simply by being the first child in the family. Even today, I am subjected to tales of how I wielded my power over the family. They danced attendance to me, took care of my sleeping times and fed me before anyone else in the family, laughed when I laughed and cried when I cried. What kind of power and authority is this? It’s unstated and exists in every family. All babies are born with such power. The power of innocence!

This innocence gave way to manipulations and games as I grew up. I started becoming aware of the concept called authority and the tool called power. I do not claim that I understand what authority and power is all about, yet I have seen how the two can make or break a person or a system or community.

I am inclined to believe that authority is associated with decision makers and vice-a-versa. Be it family, society or professional set-up. Decision-making is based on knowledge and experience. Decision-making happens when a person is willing to take responsibility and face consequences. As a result, accountability comes with authority.

It’s interesting for me to hence, look at various aspects of authority and my behaviour in different situations.

Me in relation to authority figures: How does authority and power affect me? What is the variety of reactions that I go through? When am I comfortable with authority figures? What about authority figures puts me off? Under what circumstances do I rebel or hide from authority figures? So many questions!

Today, I often find myself comfortable in presence of authority figures. I am neither under pressure nor indifferent to authority. Persons in authority inspire me. I remember being starry eyed about one of my ex-bosses for a long time and to some extent I hero-worship him even today. He was everything I aspired to be. He was charismatic, charming, knowledgeable, passionate about his work and ambitious.

In complete contrast, I have seen leaders who are dictatorial. They are often rude when they address their followers. I have deliberately used the word followers here, as they never seem to have colleagues, peers, friends or allies. I find myself running in the opposite direction from them as fast as I can. In my experience, Fear and Disgust are two strong emotions attached to such personalities.

I am fairly free in making a point or stating my opinion in presence of authority. At the same time, I have also experienced that I tend to avoid head-on confrontation with authority. As I explore deeper, I realize that I avoid confrontation in most circumstances. It seems pointless when the other person, is not in a frame of mind to listen or even acknowledge any other point of view. And when it comes to authority figures, I give up and walk away. One may debate on this and call it escapism. However, it seems to be prudent and time and effort saving to me.

In relation to confrontation with authority I have never been through a question of how can I confront? It’s always been a case of do I want to? Whenever, it comes to protecting my own authority and power, I tend to be very alert. Then I may fight tooth and nail to save my self-respect.

Does this mean that I always walk away from confrontation? Not really, I remember instances when I have engaged in public showdowns with my bosses or teachers. It happened when I was much younger and far more passionate and rigid in my outlook to life in general. Over the years, I find myself being more tolerant of being told what to do. It takes off the pressure and I can better utilize my resources.

Me as an Authority figure: How do I exert my authority? What impact do I have on my team, peers, and family when I exert my authority? How do I ensure that my authority and power does not make my team dysfunctional? How do I ensure that, in caring for my team I do not give away my authority rendering me ineffective as a team leader? Questions again!

I am fairly authoritarian in the matters that hold me responsible for the final outcome. I take an aggressive stance in ways of operating at work. Over the years, my approach has mellowed. I tend to listen to ideas more patiently. I am a firm advocate of hands-off delegation. At times this leads to situations where we do not deliver on time. In such cases, I feel disappointed with self and often tend to feel responsible for not having seen it coming.

Co-existence is a value that I uphold and practice. It translates in the way I handle my teams. It is a tricky balance however to care for the team while ensuring high performances. Its about building self-motivated teams, empowered enough to make own decisions, within the prescribed format. I find this situation very funny, most of the times. The idea is to give as much freedom as possible to the member of the team yet I restrict them in certain boundaries of processes and authority limits. These limits are largely financial in nature and essential.

The theme of co-existence is even more tricky in the competitive world, where my peers carry the “either you or me” attitude. At such times, I sing a lonely song of “u and me”! In such cases I tend to seek different grounds to operate from.

All this is seen from my window. I wonder how it looks from the others’ window? I am increasingly becoming aware that I need to seek feedback on self from peers, subordinates and superiors.

Power dynamics in the family and social circle: For some strange reason I have always associated authority with professional set-up. As I ponder about the power dynamics in family and social set-ups, I see financial status as a measure of authority. It’s a fact that the financially strong members of the family or society tend to have more authority and power as compared to the financially challenged members. I experienced this soon after my graduation. My brother started his career with a four-figure salary and the family consulted him in every matter. I was studying at that point and my opinions had no value. But in my second year, I started training with a four-figure stipend. Lo and behold, I found myself being consulted in all matters. I think this was all about the authority and power of money. My opinions and suggestions were no different from before!

In family, authority comes with age. The senior members are supposed be authority cause they have more years over the younger ones. Never mind if the senior is clueless about the world outside since his voluntary retirement about 15 years back.

In my family, power to decide and authority to action, rests with those who have proven their competence or are perceived to have the competence to deal with that particular situation. This suits me the best.

Amongst friends, I find myself oscillating from being a complete authority on something to being a happy adventurer exploring new horizons under someone. This is one set of people where there is no power struggle, no one-upmanship and no ambiguity on authority.

I wonder how many other aspects of authority is one exposed to. There is authority of role-holders, positional power, authority of a situational leader, authority coming from knowledge and experience and so on and so forth.

In conclusion I have only one thought, it’s all in the mind! I am as much an authority as I feel and have as much power as I am willing to experience.

Tarang 2008* : Event-logue

2008-03-12T18:47:00.004+05:30

It’s the morning after the event and I am in a state of complete euphoria! This event has been special in many ways. This was my first event at regional level. The warmth and the closeness shared by the community have left a lasting impression on me.

The morning of 28th dawned with an extra dose of excitement. I was all set and excited to go for the ISABS event. The day started with a slow pace and I found myself waiting for it to be 3pm. I was supposed to wind up my tasks for the day by 2.30pm and leave for Karjat. Amidst the routine hustle bustle of the office and last minute meetings and typical, “meet me before you go… we have important things to plan”, I was delayed and almost did not make it for the 3pm Karjat local. When my colleague pointed out that it was 2.40pm already, I panicked. I picked up my heavy backpack and dashed out of office, ignoring the questions coming my way. Thankfully Mumbai CST is just a five-minute walk from my office. The ticket window was not so crowded and I got my ticket within two minutes and boarded the train as it was crawling out of the station. As I looked out of the window, I felt like a kid going on the much-awaited holiday. The train picked up speed and so did my anxiety and anticipation.

In between a sandwich, a bit of reading, some music and mostly dozing, I finally reached Karjat. As I arrived at the resort, I saw members of the group coming in. I was happy to see the known people. There were some unknown faces as well. However, I seemed to know instinctively that we were a part of the same event.

This event was special for me as this was my first exposure to the other side of the event. This was my entry into the mysterious group of facilitators! Joining me were Sanjay and Vidyut. We were invited to join the staff meeting that evening! Amongst the various roles, I decided to volunteer for communications and Vidyut joined me. Other than that Sankar and I made up the party team. The professional members took up all the other roles voluntarily.

This event was special as we had Sankar and Bilol returning to the chapter after a long time. The chapter was that much more enriched by the presence of the senior members of the community. Bilol was energy personified through the event. As we laughed and doubled over, we wondered whether that the stop button had gone missing here! Sushma, Vignesh, Shridhar and Vikram brought in their own experience, wit and humour to the event. Joining them were Rachna and Rahul as interns. Sanjay, Vidyut and I were doing our Observation Lab.

This time, the community had about 38 participants and 11 staff members. This comprised 3 BLHPs (Basic Laboratory on Human Processes) and 1 ALHP (Advance Laboratory on Human Processes). Vikram and Rachna had teamed up for BLHP1, Sankar and Rahul with me as observer for BLHP 2, Bilol and Shridhar with Vidyut as observer and Sushma and Vignesh with Sanjay as observer for ALHP.

Day 1 started, as usual with an opening community session. Bilol, Vignesh and Vidyut welcomed the participants and set the tone for the next 5 days. We met with the members of the community, seeking our space, reflecting upon our location and feelings. Later Vikram addressed the community and groups were announced. At 11am on first day the small group work started in individual groups.

I joined my group and began “The observation”. In my professional life, I have been exposed to observation tasks and I had presumed that this was going to be a cakewalk. Little did I know that these 5 days would prove to be the most challenging ones.

Day 2 started with small group work. I had been receiving a huge amount of data and my awareness of self and group had peaked by the end of the previous evening. I overheard the participants discussing that no one had much to talk during the day and felt even more miserable that I had so much to say to the members of the group but no means of expression. I guess that’s why I had started my day with graffiti! Soon I saw the board filling up! Some of the interesting ones stayed in my mind – “Rest of your life begins now…” “I plan to live for ever or die in the attempt”, “What’s for Lunch? – Bheja Fry!” Interestingly, the last one was on third day.

Day 3 concluded with the mid-community session. Sushma, Sanjay and Vikram welcomed the community with soft music and mood lighting. Sushma’s soothing tone almost put me to sleep. I sailed through the community feeling happy that I was talking to the members of the group. The silences in my life were temporarily interrupted! The session concluded by non-verbal expressions of the values that were most alive for the groups. The group members depicted these values by making various formations. By this time the tentativeness of the first community session had dissolved. I saw some holding hands, others sitting close to each other, many talking and expressing for a long time, some groups connected in the formations they got into. The community hall seemed to be filled with emotions and expressions of all kinds.

Day 4 ushered in the most happening night for the community. Party time folks! One of the participants was a DJ and the party rocked as he belted out funkiest music for the “funky town” party. We did not get the Mr. and Ms. Funky – as none were dressed funky. Nevertheless, we did get to see funky forms of dances.

Next day’s graffiti was “Jai ho!” and “cheers!”

Day 5 brought with it the whisper of closure. All those who had bonded were wistful through the day. Others were in a hurry to experience something before they left and some were simply joyous to return home. As Vignesh, Rachna and Shridhar closed the community, we chucked away the things that we did not wish to take with us in a bucket. The group dispersed with the usual goodbyes – effervescent, teary, cheerful and wistful – all happening around me at the same time!

* (for the uninitiated this is the regional event of ISABS – Mumbai chapter. I am pursuing a professional development course in Applied Behavioural Science through ISABS – Indian Society for Applied Behavioural Science)

The 21 km inspiration - Sameer Nagrajan (guy without the cap)

2008-02-23T10:36:00.006+05:30

I ran the 21 km Mumbai half marathon on Sunday January 20, 2008. I completed it.

Mere words cannot, frankly, express the pride and joy I feel at having done it. This has been one of the tallest moments in my life in a long, long time. And as in all such cases, there is a story around it.

Sometime in June 06, I became conscious (after a lot of gentle and not-so-gentle ribbing by family and friends) that I was developing a significant tummy, brought on by generous helpings of food, alcohol and aided by a very sedentary lifestyle. Having had knock knees for a significant portion of my childhood, I had never really gotten into physical exercise of any sort. As I grew older, the knees sorted themselves out through physiotherapy but the excuse remained and I never knew what really I was capable of in terms of physical exercise.

Having discovered a treadmill in our colony in Bangalore, I started getting onto it. Every day I would run 1 km and feel good.

Life has a way of disguising opportunities as problems and my problem arose when I moved to Mumbai. The office has a gym but to stay back and use it would mean reaching home late, not a good idea when the distance anyway takes 75 minutes to cover. The building did not have a gym and I was wondering whether to buy a treadmill. Cost considerations prevailed and I pondered the second alternative, to run on the road. That did not seem very nice so I hit on the third best alternative, to run in a park nearby.

Almeida Park is a mere 2 minute walk from my place and is essentially a haunt of senior citizens before 6 am every morning. An entire round of the park is 300 metres. The first time I went there, I forced myself to run ten rounds, i.e. 3 kms.

I stopped ten times during that run and realised for the first time, how completely unfit I was. Gasping for breath at the end of each round, I swore that I would beat the run (rather than have it beat me). I had also started an aggressive diet program then, eating only salads for 3 days and then cutting out the sugar, ghee and butter completely from all my food.

Realising that I was lazy enough to stop if I gave myself an excuse to do so, the next resolve was to run every day. This presented unique challenges, for example, the day I had to leave home at 5 am to catch a train from CST at 6 am. I woke up at 330 am to run for 45 minutes .. the watchman in our building looked at me as if I was an apparition, when he saw me stepping out of the building at 345 am in a tracksuit. But was fortunately polite enough not to say anything.

After a month, I was doing 5 kms, stopping a few times, but doing it every day. Initially everyone had put down the idea to a fad, something that I would not doubt outgrow in a few weeks. Doing it for a month, I had begun to enjoy it and had also lost a kilo or two of weight in the process. Madhu started pushing me to see a doctor. I met the Company doctor, who confirmed that I could go ahead as long as I did not experience pain.

The first 2 months were chaotic, in the sense that right through the day, I used to keep taking very deep breaths (the running used to, for some strange reason, make me want to breathe very deeply). I also used to get very thirsty, easily drinking something like four litres of water every day. On the positive side, I used to sleep better and earlier and as a result, reduced socialising sharply (difficult to party if you are used to sleeping at 10 pm every day!!).

I also used to have sharp spells of demotivation, when I used to wonder why I was doing all this. At that point in time, in a discussion with a younger colleague, I learnt about the Mumbai Marathon and that it was held every year in January in Mumbai. We chatted up on it and I decided as a motivator, to set myself a goal to complete the Mumbai Half-Marathon in January 2008. Some of my friends thought I was a bit strange, since the Half Marathon is 21 kms and I was at that time doing barely 5 kms at a stretch in a run. No doubt they thought I was getting a bit soft in the head. I was actually a bit easy on myself, initially telling my friend that I my goal was to “participate” in the half marathon. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, “you could do that by running for five minutes and completing one km. Participation doesn’t mean much”. Suitably chastened, I adjusted it to “completing” the half Marathon.

The first sign I got that things were actually getting better were that by September, I was able to run 10 kms a day with a lot of rest intervals. By then, I had also lost enough weight (10 kgs, in fact!!) to need a brand new wardrobe, something I really enjoyed doing. Some of the reactions then were really cute – some of my older friends who were seeing me after a long time used to assume I was sick and ask me in hushed tones “are you all right?” while some of the more polite ones would make curious enquiries. In the office, people were just plain confused. One of my younger colleagues realised that I was serious about running when he saw the weight loss (incredibly good athlete himself) and served as a broadcast system, letting a whole lot of people know that “Sameer really runs a lot now”. Another one, pretty scared of physical exercise and never having done it all his 35 years, commented that I would wear out my knees and need knee replacement surgery in the next 5 years. I took that sage bit of advice with the humorous response it deserved, that since I was going to die someday as well, it made sense not to live today …

I then got a coach. Rather, Unilever gave me one. Savio D’Souza is a Olympic level marathoner who now trains people in running and trains a huge contingent from Unilever every year in long-distance running. He’s a very interesting trainer, who fits the classical mould of an irresistible force. He is warm, friendly and consistent and used to run with me. It only struck me later how frustrating it would have been for him – when I run with someone very much slower than me now, I have to remind myself that someone spent time on me as well. Aside from the physical fitness lessons, I also learnt some of the things that make long-distance running a ruggedly individualistic sport with some subtle rules:
1. stop to help someone who needs it
2. you must be able to speak while running. If you can’t speak, you are doing something wrong. Slow down.
3. never stop running once in the race. Running slowly is acceptable, stopping is not. Even walking is preferable to stopping.
4. you will never do the full distance in training. The idea is to come close to it but to keep the actual “full” run for the big day.

As the distances I covered increased, I stopped running every day. It was really too much anyway to try and run over ten kms every day. Ironically, by running every alternate day, I actually increased speed. Give the body time to recover and it responds much better. Every Sunday, I would run with Savio and slowly, the speeds improved. By mid-November, I was doing 13 kms at a stretch, and by end-November it had touched 15 kms.

Some interesting things were also happening at home. Smriti and Yash started developing a sudden interest in running, to the point where Madhu and I had to regulate their running a bit (overdoing it can do nasty things to a delicate system). Fortunately for them it was a fad that passed.

Recovering from the run was another slow process. I would typically run for about 75 minutes and it would then take another 90 minutes for the breathing and pulse rate to return to normal, with the result that I would be inactive for a while.

December was possibly the very worst month as far as my training went in the sense that I was not in Mumbai- travelling a lot. I spent two weeks in Jaipur on the ISABS program and that put paid to a significant bit of training. By then, the marathon had been announced for Jan 20. Applications were filled and routed through Unilever, which coordinates over 2000 entries directly with the sponsors (Chartered Bank). The Bank threw a shock – in the past five years, every year the event has been attracting increasing numbers of entries and it was now curtailing entries, upon request by the Police. Unilever in turn threw a fit when it discovered that last year, one person had run the half marathon without realising he had a severe case of arterial blockage (without symptoms) and the Company doctor mandated every participant to go through a medical exam.

Turned out to be more good news. I used to have a triglycerides problem – it is now normal. As for the stress test, I just got on to the treadmill and kept walking, 10 minutes into the test, when I had just about started breathing deeply, the doctor looked at me and said “are you into fitness?”. I grinned and said I run 15 kms every Sunday. I had to repeat that before he understood, and then increased the speed of the treadmill sharply …

And so, despite the Bank trying its best to curtail entries and Unilever insisting on medicals for everyone, I found my application accepted …

And the one Sunday before the marathon, I touched 17 kms. Now I was pretty sure I would do it, though not very sure how and in what shape. Chartered bank had very kindly put up a recreation centre at Azad Maidan and Unilever managers were invited there. Madhu and the kids decided that they would cheer me off to a start and wait for me to finish.

We reached at around 620 am for a 645 am start. The whole of Azad Maidan was buzzing and there was an air of anticipation. The start of the race in fact was a bit anti-climactic in that there were 8000 participants for the 21 km run and as a result, the first two kms were just a fast walk (the real running starts from the second km on).

There are stages to a Marathon (or any intensive long duration physical exercise, for that matter) in terms of emotions. These have been mapped and generally found to be applicable, though not universally true. They serve as a rough guide to inform that feelings can arise that you do not anticipate or understand fully. In the first stage, is excitement and exhilaration at the fact that I am commencing a challenging task. That is what happened at this stage.

The route also had a carnival air about it- music, announcements, and crowds cheering you on. Interestingly, Jan 20 was a very cold day by Mumbai standards. It was really good because it is easier to run in the cold than in heat!! And every 2 kms or so, there was a drinks counter that served water and Electral … good fun. I had by then also learnt the useful art of grabbing a small bottle from an outstretched hand, drinking and then throwing the bottle by the side, without reducing speed .. it is possibly the one time in the year when you can litter without guilt and in fact are expected to litter. The run was initially a blur. I just kept moving, recognising faces from Unilever and elsewhere, but just concentrating on getting the next step. At 2 kms, I smile at the stranger next to me and say “10% of the run is over”. He laughs as well and confirms, “10% is over”.

At this stage, I become aware that there is a great deal of work yet to be done. I am not frustrated or in awe, just conscious that I have just started out. There is a sense of challenge building up and I begin to activate the cerebral part of my being. I am trying to figure out how I am going to do this one. Humour and an acknowledgement of realities plays a role at this point.

One of my training partners kept pace with me for a while, then slowed down. Crossed Babulnath with ease and Mumbaikars on this list would know that that is the point at which the upward incline leading upto Peddar Road starts. As I ran up Peddar Road, I found myself slipping into a steady pace, enjoying the pace and the sights ….

For some time initially, thoughts and feelings align. I get into the rhythm of the run. Legs move repetitively, you remember the rules about where to hold your hands and the slight swing of the body that propels it forward. This is an important stage, however, it is deceptively shallow and short.

Sights, did I say? Yes. There was one guy dressed in a Spiderman costume (I am still not too sure why, but he was not in the race only for fun. He seemed to be running seriously). By the time we hit the 8th km, the potential winners of the race were doing the 15th (and were hence coming back and passing me in the opposite direction). For the record, Milind Soman is a great runner. I do remember thinking as I passed Haji Ali, that I never knew Worli Sea Face was such a long stretch. It just seemed to go on and on, not a pleasant feeling when you are running. I challenged myself and said that I would not stop till I had done half the distance and turned around. At Mela restaurant, we turned around.

Do you get what happened at this stage? You might have read between the lines. In order to make a stressful task bearable, I separate thought and feelings. I may not always be able to explain why and how this happened, or even what I felt just then (except for the physical sense of tiredness). So I report intelligently and intellectually, on what I “saw”. The mind is going into hyperdrive, measuring, calculating, recognising. It takes attention off the physical tiredness that is beginning to creep in. It challenges itself temporarily by setting artificial targets (“I will rest after the halfway mark is done”). It blocks off feelings, because to acknowledge tiredness and exhaustion at this stage will mean that I might slow down or stop, overwhelmed by the size of the task before me. The disconnect between thought and feeling is complete.

Strange thing there. On the way back, I actually reduced speed more often and was not so consistent in the speed. As a result, I thought it would have taken longer to come back than it did to go. Turned out to be the opposite, I took longer to cover the first half distance. I met up with Savio at some point on the way back and we chatted while running. That kind of kept my motivation high enough to cross 17 kms. At that point, I became conscious that I had now crossed my earlier personal best.

Feelings and thoughts begin to re-integrate in the next stage. How long will you ignore my tiredness, my body shouts at me. You are going to complete this, my mind argues. The training for long-distance running is not only about physical training. It also focuses on aligning body and mind to send consistent messages. So my mind gets kind on my body and says “yeah … at the next water pit, you may slow down for a minute. 60 seconds. Not one more. But till then, work with me”. And my body is grateful for the concession and does as it is told.

At 18 kms, I become aware that I have now done better than my earlier best. I feel good for barely a few seconds. Despondency kicks in. What am I doing this for, I asked myself. I could quit and stop now. I am 41 years old, not as young as I used to be and not as young as some of the people I see around me now.

As body and mind are aligned, thoughts and feelings have also aligned. The challenge is, I am now aware that I have pushed myself beyond accustomed limits. Also, I am now exploring territory that I never did before – and there is already a sense of achievement that is being created. Paradoxically, the sense becomes that since I am already achieving, I do not need to achieve in full. 18 kms is as much of an achievement as 21 kms, for me who has only done 17 before. Now the challenge is different. Earlier, I was using mind to negotiate with body and body to prove a point to mind. Now I need an integrated response, failing which I will succumb and fail.

And very quietly and peacefully, an image formed in my mind of my children. Their Dad is not a loser, I thought. He’s a winner who started out doing something for the first time in his life when he was 40. And then I started moving again.

The final stage is of resolve. The differences have been reconciled, the limits explored, the hesitation encountered, the anxiety confronted. I explore deep within myself and ask, what is it that I really want to do? And where does the energy come from? Steel comes into my eyes, I set my mouth in a line and mouth to myself, “I will make this happen in full. I will complete the half marathon”. Frankly I have not understood the imagery of my children, though I very much own the image. I always thought this was something I was doing for myself, with myself. I thought it was about doing something that I had never done before. Obviously the approval of my children means a lot to me.

Last three kms. I turn round the corner at Not Just Jazz By The Bay.
The crowd is now bigger, and the sense of euphoria in me builds. “You’ll do it!!” shouts a teenage boy. “I will”, I smile back at him.

With resolve comes confidence.

One of the most touching and in one way intriguing moments in the run happens a few seconds after that. Every 500 metres or so along the route, there are water stalls. A small family operates one such stall. They are very obviously poor. Their clothes and demeanour show it. The father has a collection of small mineral water bottles before him and his son clutches two, waiting for a runner to signal thirst.
I catch his eye. He would be all of ten years old, if at all. I jerk my fist to my mouth.
His eyes widen and he runs to his father. Runs back. Holds out a bottle. I grab it.
In some way I can’t fully fathom, I have impacted him. He has been watching me since 50 metres away, when I first signalled. Now, barely 5 metres away from him, I notice him looking up (and it is virtually up, at his height and our mutual proximity). He is not blinking. He is just looking at me.
“Thanks” I say and smile and he scampers back, to tell his father … what?

I observe more reflectively, contemplatively. I have outgrown the obsession about distance, speed, tiredness and all the rest of the noise.

At 2.5 kms to close, a trainer appears out of nowhere. I don’t know him, he is an appointed route guide. He is trying to motivate a man before me, who has apparently given up and is walking along leisurely. “Come on, man. Only half a kilometre more. You’ve almost done it. You cant’ give up now.” It seems to work. The man starts running.

Liar, I think. It’s not anything less than 2 kms. I wonder how that guy will react when he realises that it’s actually not half a km. But I am doing this in a very matter of fact way, I’m not excited or worked up about the plainly manipulative style. It’s just something I have observed, en route to my goal.

Incidentally, the man who was walking before me does realise that the distance is significantly more than 500 metres, and resumes the leisurely pace. I overtake him soon after. He notices a friend along the boundary lines and stops for a conversation.

I can hear the noise at the podium long before I see it. The mayor of Mumbai and John Abraham are welcoming all the participants back. I can see the crowd gathering. There’s a band playing. Water, food. I am 500 meters away.

I notice a digital clock above the welcome arch, announcing the time in hours, minutes and seconds.

At exactly 2 hours and 29 minutes, I pass under the arch. I have done it. Adjusting for the fact that the clock started before I passed the start line, my time chip has recorded that I took 2 hours and 26 minutes to cover 21.067 kms.

Madhu and the children are waiting for me. It’s an incredibly heady moment. “You did it!!!” is what all of them have to say. We head off the to the Chartered Bank pavilion for snacks, drinks, entertainment …

U and Me

2008-02-23T10:33:00.003+05:30

There are times when everything seems so dark and dull. It seems as if there is going to be nothing more to look forward to. The path that I am treading seems to suddenly fall off into a deep valley, where no light seems to reach. I reach the ends of despair in such state.

My relationship with U seemed to be heading that way. I was so sad when we said goodbye. I was loathe to give up on a beautiful person. As artistic and as colourful and as cluttered and as unique and as individualistic as your lovely home. A genuinely pure soul, mauled by the experiences that came its way, yet fighing all the time in a state of rebellion, head held high, never allowing oneself a moment of rest. I saw so many unshed tears and I wanted to cry. It was my loss and I thought this would never heal.

I returned to Mumbai, thinking all the time, wondering if things could be different from what I was imagining. Could there be something that was un-explored in our relationship? Why do I have to give up just cause things seemed to be at a status quo?

But the fear of rejection was very high. I had been rejected before. But wait a minute, I think it was not that. My overtures were rejected, not me. So what did U reject. It was the challenge, the “I know it all attitude”, the “let me help you” gesture, the push, the knocking that was rejected. So, my head says, what if you change your own mindset on this. Why is it so important that U should shift to my location and not vice-a-versa? Bingo! That’s a ray of hope. Problem is how will I make it happen. I have been generally unsuccessful in conveying concern and care to people.
I decided to wait and watch for an opportunity. It happened when U decided to visit Mumbai and I took a tentative step forward. And then the miracle happened!

U and I broke ice, when you were in Mumbai last time. Its wonderful! We are just happy to see the layers peel off from each other. As I analyze what happened, I realize that the ice broke when I shifted my location. You know, it happened, literally. I wrote to U that I would meet U wherever you were in Mumbai and in my mind a knot came undone. I decided to meet you physically as well as mentally at your location. I stopped showing the mirror and lo n behold, I saw a new U, joyous and free in spirit, embracing life with open arms! Looking at self and enjoying the reflection.
This experience taught me a lot of things. I got my answer to, “why do people not see my concern and care” , “why do they only see my irritation and anger”? I realized, that while I have been gifted with superb sensitivity in being able to sense and see a whole lot of things – for eg. the other person's feelings and moods, what is wrong and what may be the potential of the person etc. - I have been exceptionally lacking in being able to move to his or her location. Empathy is not having the knowledge of the other person’s emotions, rather it's being able to hold the emotions at the same level as that person. I have achieved that in corporate life by just ignoring the highs and the lows, but not in the personal life. As a result, I am always putting people on defensive, challenging them, prodding them. I have been helping and supporting only in one way. I have, in past always said, " come on you can do it, I am here, come on over.... " The image that comes to my mind here is that of a football player who has to hit a goal. I am the goal post and I see the player as a high potential goal scorer. I don't move one bit and tell him what he needs to do. All the time! My challenge is now to learn to be patient and match the pace of the person. I may give a nudge once in a while and challenge a person, if I see that nothing is happening but then, I will be more patient. So far it has given me great returns. The new image that I would like to create is that of two kites swaying to gentle wind and soaring higher in the sky as the wind blows in different directions with varying speeds.

Chief Guest

2008-02-23T10:26:00.005+05:30

My life has been a string of new experiences since May 2006! The latest of these thrillers is the launching experience. My first experience as a chief guest! Me, a chief guest? Whatever have I done to deserve this honour? I asked my friend as to what compelled her to invite me to the event and demanded that she give me a justification. In my mind, I was waiting for a long list of good things that would bring to light all my achievements and glorify all my shortcomings. The first cold shower I got was when no list came forth. The answer was simple, “because of your simplicity, because you are who you are a simple soul.” Well, so much for the expecting accolades! I mentally ticked myself off for having strutted around in self-consuming sense of pride. I felt all the hot air making way for humility.

I was then expecting that I would get a formal invitation and details of the venue and the information about the organization. Nothing happened till 20th Jan. 26th Jan was the launch. I was paranoid by then. “Is the programme still on? Am I really invited or have they had a re-think?” My self-worth was on shaky grounds. “Who is the audience, what do I speak? Why can’t people be organized? Let me call them. No, don’t call them.” I found myself constantly mumbling and worrying. Finally, I called my friend and asked her. She re-assured me that, yes the programme was still on, yes, I was invited and no she had not sent any material to me. I put the phone down, when she promised to send me all the info about her institution that day. This was on 21st Jan. And I decided to wait for the mail….

Finally the mail came to me on 25th with details. I read through, not understanding much in terms of the balance sheets. What did touch me were the success stories of the people who had benefited from micro financing. This was about supporting the under-privileged to upgrade their lifestyle, with dignity.

I had little time to prepare my speech and decided to do an ex-tempor speech.

The night of 25th was full of ribbing from my husband. I decided to keep myself busy by getting my costume ready. “Saree or Kurta? What should I wear? What colour?” I had so much going through in my mind. It was 26th Jan, so I expected that people would wear white. I mean, all these social kind of organizations do these things right? National pride and duty etc.! Pride was plenty, frills were not! Finally, since the NGO was one of the modest ones, I settled on a simple gray saree with red border and light make-up with simple jewellery.

The train was delayed and I wondered, whether I would hold up the proceedings like a typical chief guest. Surprisingly, the train made up time and I landed at Malad sharp at 11.00am. I was told that I would be received at malad station and taken to the venue. I dreamt of a committee with flowers, escorting me to a waiting car! Ha! Ha! The joke was on me. The lady who was to receive me was yet to leave for the station!

30 minutes later, I got a beep on my cell and I saw a breathless white kurta rushing up to me. No flowers! No reception committee! No car! We got into an auto and trudged along to the destination. My escort was busy on calls as she seemed to be responsible for many a things. Nevertheless, we chatted a while and I got to know more about the NGO.

Finally, we arrived in a part of Mumbai that was alien to me. The last time I had moved around in Dharavi was 20 years back, when I was working for NSS in college. This was a similar location and an unassuming resort was the chosen venue.

I saw a huge pile of footwear at entrance of a large hall. The audience was sitting cross-legged on the floor. The head table was occupied by four personalities and a speech was on. I looked around bewildered and heaved a sigh of relief when I saw some familiar faces. As I looked around, save for some transgender members, my first reaction was “oh! My God! I am so overdressed and made-up.” I gobbled up my lipstick and made an attempt to tone down my eye shadow. The blush would not go down simply because, it was natural! Thankfully, I was offered tea and I ran from the gathering. I do not know whether I felt parched due to heat or embarrassment.

The earlier session was to launch a book of inspirational songs. So inspired was the team that they ate into the time allotted to my friend and her team. Everybody seemed to be humoring them, so I settled down to enjoy the singing. An hour or so later and beyond schedule, my friend decided to call the shots and requested for her time. However, the typical chief guest who walked in one and a half hours late from his scheduled time, was not in a mood to comply.

As the audience started leaving the hall, we finally saw the session being taken to its conclusion.

A short break and a cup of tea brought the groups back and our session commenced. We heard the inaugural speeches and then our (I was not the only chief guest! There were 3 others) introductions followed by the “Aashayein” song. My introduction was the shortest ever, as my friend repeated exactly what she had said to me while citing the reason for inviting me to be chief guest.

Finally, it was time to launch the new programme designed for the would be facilitators, counselors and trainers of the NGO. The moment was all for a few seconds and then I was asked to take the stage and say something. When I looked at my audience, I forgot everything that I had planned and everything that was suggested by my friend. I ended up telling them, that this is a great platform to get the superbly designed syllabus all under one roof. I hurried to my conclusion making a wish that I would be associated with them in future in a more productive fashion.

I could see the relief on everyone’s face when I called it a day in about 4 minutes. Little did they know that, it was way past my lunchtime and my stomach was empty save the butterflies that I had in them, since last night!

Others on the table kept it brief, thankfully and we called it a day.

The highlight of the day remains to be the yummiest biryani that satiated the hungry group and the plant on my kitchen window sill that came to me as a gift from the NGO.

My cherished friendships

2007-11-07T11:25:00.002+05:30

I was reading a Perry Mason on Sunday. I read the last one a couple of years back and the first one was many moons ago. It was like meeting a friend, the first time and over the next few cases, we became pals and by the time I was through with the 10th case we were thick friends. This friendship grew over the years and I was as thrilled to revisit the books as I would be to meet my best friend. (She stays so far away! Seven seas separate us and we rarely meet OR even talk these days. But when we meet the years melt away within seconds. Its just a few days, by the way for us to meet, cause she is coming home... la..la..la..) This time around it was just the same. I find the gutsy lawyer to be so real. The narrative is like a perfect conversation. It’s like listening to a real person tell his daily experiences. That’s what I like the best!

Then there is the inimitable Jeeves with his adorable master Bertie. The two of them together have never ever stood me up. Sure shot “pick me up” jodi. Its so rare to find a person who will let you into his life the way Bertie does. And, boy do I enjoy transporting myself back to his idyllic world. Whether it is Blandings, London or at Aunt Gertrude's place, I feel at home!

In recent times, Harry has caught my attention. It’s like watching a young boy come of age and triumph over all the insecurities, injustice and what not. The narrative is completely riveting. Potter books have cast me in the role of a well-wisher, who is watching over from afar, elderly and distant. Yet living the emotions of a 10 year old and progressing with him through his teens, living his fears and experiencing his joys. Saddened by his failures, frustrated due to his foolhardiness, taking pride in his success! I got another world to live in…

There are others who keep popping in and out from the historicals! The dashing and handsome Count and the dark and mysterious Duke are ever so gallant and obliging. That is pure fantasy and fun…

And then there are Poirot and Holmes! My best friends! Thrilling personalities and ohh so clever ;) … You must meet them sometime…..

Backseat driver

2007-10-31T10:43:00.001+05:30

Accha kiya ya bura kiya? I guess , bura kiya cause I am feeling baaaaadddd. But there is always a down side to all good things. It's good to fail once in a while. Why??? Tabhi toh success ki aihmiyat pata chalti hai.

Am I solely responsible for this "failure"? Maybe. Wrong judgement. Could be...Not being in sync with the "leader"? Definetly...

I am thinking, why is it essential for me to find reasons for a project gone wrong. In my mind I know that it has to do with only one person. It has to do with being unable to deal with mediocrity. It has to do with me wanting to be in the driving seat, without a backseat driver…

But why am I feeling baaaaadddd about taking a call? I am being selfish, that's why! Ayn Rand says its good to be selfish. But she doesn't say what to do with emotional attachements that make you feel guilty...

Brings me to another question. Is it possible to do mentoring and guiding without being involved? What relationship should a mentor and mentee have? All my pride at being able to handle varied set of people is in vain, I have realized. In reality, I am only handling myself and my own emotions. I cannot handle all kinds of people. Lots to learn! I am now realizing, how much more I need to learn about influencing skills, patience and self-appreciation. I must acknowledge here that I have also decided to call it quits , cause there have been zero positive strokes since the project started. And there were none after asking for them... shameless , in Indian context. In our society, one should never ask for compliments... "I thought you knew that you are good OR that you are on right track OR that I love you. Isn't it obvious that i am not correcting you n it means you are ok?... blah... blah.... blah"

Shortcut mein bolega toh, backseat driving just not happening, Bhidu! Not for me at least.... Arre apun ke paas driver ka uniform nahi hai yaar... Aur postman ka toh bilkul hi nahi... That set is extinct and I have no plans to join them....

Asel Maza Hari Tar Deyil Khatlyawari

2007-10-29T11:44:00.001+05:30

I have not taken leave of my senses. The title is a saying in Marathi. Simply put it means “If God is there for me He will give me (things) on my bed (platter)! This seems to be the most dearly held value of most of the professionals. I see around me a set of people who have complete clarity of purpose and means. Purpose is lots of money and means is a cushioned job. I recently had a very enlightening experience. I was doing recruitment for vacant spots on my team.

I was amazed to meet the young applicants have a clear idea of salary and perquisites that they were entitled to. I said to myself, “Wow! Aren’t I the lucky one? These guys are positively more dashing than my generation”. I felt half the load get off my shoulder and we touched upon the experience and the competencies grid. This is when the bumpy stretch started. Till then, it was like riding a bike on a freshly done up road. All smooth and clearly marked. The moment we stepped on to skill sets, the ride became bumpy. This is when last held designations became the all important word. Having heard the various responses, I am actually planning to apply for entry into Guinness on behalf of the applicants for creating a record, by describing the nature of their job, responsibilities held and areas of competence in ONE sentence. “madam! I a manager!”, “madam! I bees the supravesor!”, “yes, yes I look after all boys!” AND folks they all want salary in excess of 20 grand, petrol money, cell allowance and anything else that can make the job attractive. “If you give me accommodation in Bandra and Andheri I will join you real fast”….. I have lost it by this time and meekly ask – but what about your current responsibility…. I am looked at as if I have come from alien land…. 2 days is all they need to clear out …. ‘N I have on my hands a set of guys who may not be there 2 days later!

My friend in a similar function with a multi-national company tells me she fares no better!

Having lost hopes in fresh recruitment scenario, I decided to turn to the existing set of people on my team. I worked up a beautiful, selling speech about skill enhancement and taking more responsibility and career growth to make the move spicy enough. My HR man short-listed a set of potentials. Armed with my pearls of wisdom, I settled on the most promising ones and called them for a tête-à-tête. After exchanging all the pleasantries, I decided to get on with the agenda and spelt out the opportunity. The first one, was excited n encouraged me to spell out all the requirements. Then he asks me very cutely, “medam, how much salary?” I was depending on my HR skills to convince him to get into training and eventually get promoted after 3 months. Which meant that raise would happen after 3 months. My star performer walked out, never to return!

The mind boggling part is that they all have either salary slips or offer letter giving them all that they ask for.

I am wondering, whether I need to work on my interviewing skills OR just shut up and hire the guys in an “as is where is” deal…..

My worry is that they do not have faintest clue as to what is expected of a supervisor and how does the role change when one is promoted to a managerial level. Yahan toh hisab simple sa hai. They firmly believe that number of years put in is equal to increased volume is equal to promotion is equal increase in salary. The appeal is simple… “ saab pagar pura nahi padta” … I am not joking. It’s just like the last person on the operations chain. One wonders, how is it that the salary is never enough. I ask them, how about spending as much as you can afford. At the end of this conversation they either think that I am kanjoos or conclude that I am not from this age…

May be I am not, cause I believe in the fact that one should earn their laurels and they believe that effort has nothing to do with what they get. It is all about their needs and wants. My economics teacher taught me long ago that wants are unlimited. No surprises then!

I have lately taken to practicing the song “aamdani atthanni kharcha rupaiyya, …..”

A matter of choice

2007-10-13T16:22:00.001+05:30

Whether to fly or to fall ? Many a people who saw this photo exclaimed " Wow! what a fall?" . I was perplexed, as in my mind it was never about the fall. Instead , i found myself thinking "Wow! what a platform to take off and fly" . But the reactions got me thinking. I questioned myself, why did I not think about the fall? Is it because, I am rejecting the possibility of a fall? If yes, what is the reason for rejection. I realized that , its the negativity of the word fall... Bingo! Has to be just that....

Wait a minute, it cannot be negative, if people say wow! to the fall. I started looking at the word in a new light. That's when I remebered the "Autobiography of a Pearl-Diver" from my 4th standard rapid reading. He would fall from the highest possible point to reach the deepest parts of the ocean. many such falls and dives later he would return with the pearls! Suddenly the photograph had a new meaning for me....

Aha! said my ego... see I can look at both aspects... atta girl, you intelligent soul... you have got it all figured out...

And then my brains decided to throw a googly... so you want to take the plunge and fall deeper into the pit and hope to get some pearls... what about the flight that would take you to beyond the horizon, into new skies....

Brings me back to the same question -- to fly or not to fly...... :)