Countenance of the Indian currency

The Greatest Indian (after Gandhi)?? I am sure you would have pondered about this at some point in life....for me the question comes naturally each time I have the 500 buck note in my hand with the ever smiling Gandhi countenance. And also when I travel abroad and see a multitude of faces of significant people's faces on the currency notes - the founding fathers - Franklin, Washington, Jefferson on the USA greenbacks; Newton, Darwin, Jane Austen on the England Sterlings.

So why only MK Gandhi gracing ever denomination of our currency that runs thru more than 2 Billion hands. I should be asking not just our current RBI Governor Mr. Raghuram Rajan but every citizen of the country if they do not feel that no other Indian politician, scientist, artist deserves to be placed on the national currency? Why do we accept the dull designs just as we go about our daily lives....maybe its just money and no body cares about designs and just care about the value. and maybe I do as a numismatist.... but there's more reason to that as these paper notes are reflection of our progress, cultural strength and diversity.

I gave it a long thought and thought of some interesting designs that could be considered. I dont say this covers all but surely covers some important personalities and themes. Feel free to disagree/engage and make better suggestion....but atleast kickstart the topic!

INR 1000: Changing the reverse side from the current IT oriented design to a plain Sabarmati Ashram and a Khadi spinning Charkha...let the face of the note remain same with MK Gandhi adorning it. This being the biggest denomination paper in circulation identifies with our Father of the Nation and also values associated with him "Simple Living and High Thinking"

INR 500: Changing the reverse again from the current 1942 August Kranti design to a vivid muticolored pattern with the diverse wildlife showcasing the natural beauty in the Indian jungles. The face of the note can have Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel's countenance to mark respect to the man who was instrumental in bringing together more than 500 princely states into the Indian Union. Alternate figure could be Nehru.

INR 100: Changing the reverse design from the mountains to technology, science and industry oriented. This is possibly the most circulated note and marks the recent advancements in the country. The face can have Jawaharlal Nehru as his visions of the temples of modern India is where the dream began. Alternate figures could be JRD Tata or Homi Bhabha here.

INR 50: Let the note show the monuments of India...the world travels to see them...the Taj Mahal could be well placed here....and the obverse should have the face of Mother Teresa as the notion of service to mankind beautifully rest with her. This could be a masterpiece in the current pink, white & blue tones. Alternate figure could be Indira Gandhi.

INR 20: This is possibly the least circulated note just like the US$2 note but in my opinion has always been one of the most beautiful one. The design should change from the current Parliament to a more cultural oriented design with possibly one with a Kathakali dancer, Tablas, Veena etc and in the background written lyrics of a portion of Jan Gan Man (our national anthem).... On the face we can have Rabindranath Tagore - a Nobel Awardee in Literature. 

INR 10: Now comes the turn of the most frequently used note by the man on the street. Back to the basics - Changing the current design to one with the parliament, Ashoka pillar and words from the Preamble of the constitution "We the People...." and on the face who better than Baba Bhimrao Ambedkar could adorn it. Alternate figure could be Dr. Rajendra Prasad here. 

INR 5: This is the only note where I feel the current design on the back should stay. At the grassroots, the country's growth still depends on Agriculture.  On the face we can have the countenance of Mr Verghese Kurien as he steered the Operation Flood and brought self sufficiency in India in terms of Milk.

Dissent, Disorder and Desire...

What is right way of dissent?.... an armed revolution or civil disobedience.

One can argue at length and being born in the country that calls Gandhi - an apostle of peace - its father i believe we have more who would side with Satyagrah. But does that mean that armed revolutionaries have done something wrong, I would argue not, for they have merely taken the alternative way to sort difference and possibly after a civilized argument. So in my opinion there is a time and reason for everything, there was a time when civil disobedience caused enough systemic breakdown that the British had to give up...and possibly out of frustration. Well, in life and in today's times if you follow the Gandhian principle of putting forward the right cheek after being slapped on the left is bound to fail, and to some extent that was seen last year with Anna's fasting failures. 

Those were different times when one man was much more educated, had the control of the entire political frontline and could argue for good with those mightier and those lesser privileged with equal elan and in good faith. No amount of cursing can take away the credit the nation has endowed upon him, and while i am no big fan of his i do acknowledge the impact he had - and there was definitely a good reason.

But again, will that model work today?

Ek Pyaar Ka Nagma Hai....

Was at home in February, and watched this show with parents for a couple of nights. Watch the following youtube link for my ever favorite hindi song which says a lot about Love, Life and the meaning of both as you grow old. Its the song i had thought of singing for my wife at our wedding, but never did....

Enjoy this full length original version by the lyricist himself, I found myself with moist eyes by the end of it, possibly at his age with the lyrics being his own they came with such a beautiful force accompli

Watch from the 25th minute...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEeuyzfk23M&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Epicurean seasons

Before you read ahead – this blog piece could cause you to feel hungry at the minimum, rob the nearest kitchen, in any case high probability you will salivate: Issued in public interest
One season gives away to another….its perpetually changing maybe not as much for the people at the poles. The thing I like most about changing weather and new seasons is the variety of food that can be enjoyed. The cold drinks in the summer days…lemonades, chilled soda, Aam Panna, flavored lassi or just our old faithful Rooh Afzah. Your thirst can hardly be satiated these 4-5 months of the year. Then westerlies and eastern winds gush in with such fervour bringing the cloudful of rains, and then it just pours and pours like forever which reminds me of a nice reading “Bombay Girls and Bombay Rains”… tongue-in-cheek suggestion of unreliability and suddenness. Never mind, my nostrils catch the earthiness in the air, of the parched dust that soaks the rain, quite an orgasmic experience isnt it?… for all I care is actually deep fried crispy pakodas – any filling will do – brinjals, spinach, shallots, potatoes and cauliflowers, that makes me salivate!! And that cannot go without a hot cup of chai topped up with juicy cuts of ginger…

Gar firduas bar ru-e zameen ast, hami ast hami ast hami ast… Jahangir – quite a lousy emperor in my opinion- said that for Kashmir, its beauty and its heavenliness. Inspired, I decided to go there for my honeymoon in peak winters this year. Once landed I was enchanted with the snow capped peaks, the stay in the houseboat on Dal Lake where the room was heated by burning wood, the tranquility of sitting hand-in-hand in the shikara appreaciating the scenic views or when other salesmen in other shikara’s come up to sell jewels, dry fruits and to photograph you in kashmiri/pathani/mongolian/iranian attire and poses …all the same but gives them the incentive to click more to make you pay more… now you wouldn’t dare refuse your newly wedded wife. Anyways back to my gastronomic agenda, what I enjoyed most on my entire 6 day trip was our national food – piping hot Maggi in the middle of the dal lake, at Zam-zam restaurant (the last one at sonmarg before it becomes inhabitable), by the river lidder in pahalgam, at the golf course in gulmarg!! Coupled with a nice cup of Kahwa – (herb tea with dry fruits) is total bliss that can make you forget anything……and who told you I am romantic?? I fervently believe that instant noodles have been the greatest invention of mankind.

Winter is the time we eat, rather stuff ourselves with creamy, cheesy and buttery delicacies… the onset which arrives at Diwali – the time to relish the sweet savories. I actually don’t buy any for myself but the fridge refuses to be stocked out thanks to friends and family. And there’s no reasoning wife/mum would take to allow me another piece but it runs in the family to quietly sneek in at half in the night and devour the awesomeness. Recently gifting trends have only helped – chocolate boxes, candied dry fruits and hand made cookies. Waking up to stuffed paranthas, lunching on makki-ki roti and sarson ka saag, and sleeping off to a belly full of daal makhani and a generous helping of gajar ka halwa. Enough!!! Or did I miss the daily evening staple of tomato n cream soup, which paired with grilled sweet potatoes eaten like you are scooping icecream from a waffle cone… nothing beats the warmth and contentment.

Now since Thanksgiving, I have been waiting for that heavenly rum and fruit christmas cake…would anyone care to oblige? In my case it’s never a question – I live to eat, and love to eat. What about you?...

Life...Delicious ambiguity

Read this on a blog and loved it...

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learnt, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.” - Gilda Radner

Here's the blog link...very nice readings:

http://deeviations.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-it-teaches.html?

Swades Mera (Part 2)… India - An enigma of metamorphosis

Yunan, Misro, Ruma sab mit gaey jahan se

Ab tak magar hai baqi nam-o-nishan hamara

Kuch baat hai ke hasti mit-ti nahi hamari

sadiyon raha hai dushman daur-e-jahaan hamara

What was Iqbal thinking when he wrote these lines into the Tarana-e-Hind. Was this poetic catharsis a result of the metamorphosis he felt happening to once what was widely accepted to be the greatest nation on the face of the earth? I have always been intrigued by these lines, for our country has always been synonymous to a golden bird always happily chirping even while having countless enemies. We have charmed many and still continue to, far-away travelers of the yore like Hieun Tsang, Ibn-Battuta, Mannuci, Tavernier who went back, came again and wrote extensively of the beauty and diversity of this country. We have fought off invaders from the River Tigris to the Indus valley and even taught the kings of Mesopotamia and “Great” Britain a lesson in humility over the last 2500 years. Still the country stands today well on its feet, still smiling with folded hands in humility and in state of constant evolution. Yes, we are the “developing” nation and that tag has rather become a sobriquet for India given we have stood up to the incessant plundering of wealth by foreigners and still been gracious enough to provide home to many of them – the Mughals are one just example.

A few days ago while sitting with a few foreign businessmen a friend asked them “Why don’t we get more investment from USA into Emerging India?” To which came the instant reply - “Half the US doesn’t know where your country lies on the map!” Isn’t this very ironical for any citizen of the nation that was discovered by a man who had set out to find India! Probably since he could never find it, the Americans have continued his legacy for another 500 years.

Also ironical to a biologist’s interpretation, sixty five years ago two parts of our country was severed on the pretext of it being the genesis of better for a certain race and of which one has now become cancerous for our very own existence. Were it the wings of Icarus, that were to soar into prosperity but landed in failure?... ironically still, the poetic lines once composed for our one nation were erased by Iqbal himself to be recomposed for the other (Tarana-e-milli) but the rhyme remains well etched in our minds ”Saare Jahaan se achcha Hindostaan hamara”.

The more educated can keep thumping the tables arguing for better governance, a higher rate of GDP or countering terrorism and corruption, while forgetting that this nation has survived the greater tragedies and follies in history. As a larva does struggle inside the cocoon into its becoming, so is our nation, we have had more than our fair share of struggle to which history stands witness and some we will continue to experience. The metamorphosis shall continue, the beautiful butterfly shall emerge, the world shall see…but not yet…

The Sounds of Silence

Remember the acoustic feel of the Simon & Garfunkel hit of the ‘60s? The compelling music draws you to it and makes you listen again... and in silence. Silence is related to in many ways and forms. For most silence is often correlated with solace, stillness, unhappiness and punishment and for some it is a way to seek enlightenment and self-realization. The world we live in continually moves towards noise so much so that it’s deemed pollution. In fact the silence of one person threatens the peaceful existence of the society. Even the observation of silence at unfortunate events becomes discomforting to many. The truth is that both Silence and the absence of it can be accepted only intermittently, the continuity creates a disturbance.

Try walking into a Bahai faith temple and the ubiquitous silence in the hall reveals itself differently, the mind apprehends the vacuum and the changed environment makes you think – here lips are motionless but the thoughts reverberate inside your cerebellum. The vow of silence by Anna Hazare recently created more than the combined cacophony of imposing opponents. The silent approach to the execution noose by Saddam Hussein left people thinking. The “Silence of the Lambs” is actually about the numbness of not being able to scream or cry oneself in a moment where you would want to. Two mute people use the medium of hands and expressions to speak to each other in existence of silence. Thus the sound inherent in the silence becomes the noise and challenges the very notion of “Silence”.

Silence belies the meaning and the reason behind it. You may be attracted to silence but once you are subjected to the state of silence you would probably scream out loud. You shut off the idiot box because you can’t tolerate the rambling on a channel, only to switch it on again when silence engulfs you. You want silence around at your workplace, but the sudden lack of noise as you walk in over to your desk makes you think “Is something wrong around here?” Silence becomes some thing that we long for but we don’t know what to do with, much like the dog that chases each passing car.

…And why so serious?! While you may judge if silence is good or bad, wanted or unwanted, it actually depends on the situation and the subject. Does a stock broker really want silence on the trade floor? His life and wage depends on the incessant clangor, silence would mean a Black Friday!! Music too inherently depends on silence in some form or another to distinguish other periods of sound and allow dynamics, melodies and rhythms to have greater impact. Does it imply that silence too is a sound? Think aloud in your silence….

"IF"

“If” - The beautiful poem on the entrance of Wimbledon courts by Rudyard Kipling.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it...

“IF” is most likelihood the most exciting word in true sense that comes out of the dictionary. “If” rides in with such possibilities that otherwise may create nondescript landscape. What if the word “if” and its reason never existed? We would have lived a life without options, alternatives, retrospect, introspect, and maybe any thought into the future. Our actions would never be evaluated and there would be no judgment. Statisticians like me wouldn’t have existed because the entire concept of probability rests on the two letter word “IF”. Now that opens up the bag of thoughts, let me leave aside myself for a moment (when I am maybe only a proton in size compared to the larger scheme of the universe) and think WHAT IF the following never happened:

WHAT IF God had not created Eve…?
WHAT IF both earth and sun revolved around each other…?
WHAT IF you could sleep and wake up at your will…?
WHAT IF you could travel time and see the future…?

Doesn’t life suddenly become eventless, unexciting and predictable? Because there is an “If”, we live with endless possibilities and boundless energies. The last question is most often heard of, and if you ask me it is a waste of thought, the reason being if you could see your future you would try to correct it now and change its course but if that’s possible then the future you saw initially was never true. Why would you want to believe in the future you see when you know you could change it…? If we get to see the future perpetually then we would never look into it. It’s just like a toy a child wants badly until he has it, once he gets it the enigma is solved and life with it becomes uneventful.

WHAT IF I could be perfect? Sounds wonderful but perfection isn’t valued for long, it is the eccentricity and idiosyncrasy in world that defines it. We exist to make things happen, my friend’s 5 year old son once asked his mother “What if all the students score the same in the class examinations, who comes 1st then?” I cannot explain and find a reasonable conclusion. The dilemma wins the war over the clarity of thought. A single instance of putting a “What if XYZ event in the history of the world happened differently” can steer the entire sequence of events into a new universe of possibilities. “If” is indispensable because it brings us into the face of reality, at the same time “If” moves us into a diverse range of potentials. Place an “If” before your future actions and not before your past actions… live in the moment, rise to the challenges “if” poses to your being. WHAT IF brings worry, caution, fear, sadness when you reason but explodes you into an enchanting realm when you dream…. Realize the madness and happiness even if unrealistic and temporary it brings…

Dream today, “what if” tomorrow is not the one you want to be in….
And seize the day, “what if” tomorrow never comes!!

Dewdrops and a little bit of life….

The refreshing splatter of the first monsoon rain drops on the window by my office desk, the cloud cover causing the opacity in my view of the Powai hills, country music playing on my blackberry and the sudden cheerfulness around was enough to push me on to a cup of Java and a new word document. I had this sudden impulse to express so much after the inertia that had lasted on my blog for close to 18 months. Nothing goes without a reason and this inertia too was due to a transitory phase in my life, Delhi to Hyderabad propelled me to start this writing sojourn, Hyderabad to Bombay was a jittery road and now that I know Bombay to Delhi isn’t happening soon I feel that I need to release the inflexibility of my mind. I have changed from loathing the city during the first one year to actually start exploring and enjoying it in the next one.


A lot of this change is also due to the 5 weeks I got to spend in US last year and upon return suddenly my life and the prevailing circumstances weren’t what they used to be. NO, I didn’t change much, nothing accentuated but the situations around and people who made up my world changed. Initial jerk was way too much to bear but doesn’t that always happen when you are in the backseat of your car and trust the drivers skills on a darkest stretch of road, he is speeding and you’re sleeping just when he hits the speed breaking rows of cat-eyes… each organ in your entire system rolls up and down like a slot machine. I too woke up with such a shake from my slumber as if slapped hard as well poured on with a bucket full of chilled water. I tried to walk but stumbled like a baby trying to make his first steps unassisted. This inebriated state of my mind I tried to camouflage using actual stimulants, alcohol justified the situation to the bystanders but I knew the actual drug was the one in my mind and rolling down from my eyes….

The mind knows when the drug stops working on you, the world can smile at the joker on the street each day but cant bear him crying the second day… they move on leaving him unnoticed. It was my turn to move on without looking at the empty backpack left… when I let it go I knew it was a little more than I would have wanted to carry on with me, in fact I could give a little rest to myself leaving the baggage away for a while and walk alone… the walks that started in a group of many and had outpaced me now challenged me to run and catch up with the herd. The desire to outrun begins either when you are nearing the finish line and you realize the potential or when the space between you and your opponent is nothing but a drop of time. I took the reins to my life, got back in shape and believed that when you are in a race of 300 circles losing one doesn’t matter because in the end its persistence and not strength that wins.

A new day, a new way with the new year and I chanced upon a new beginning… the catharsis had ended and the reflux of happiness began as I started to become what I was years ago. I made my resolutions and stopped being afraid of myself, this time it was going to be me… I am no more in the pillion but very much facing the wind because I know what lies behind me is lost to me and as they say the greener pastures, fair winds and sunny skies are all for me… Way to go, cheers to life!!

Difficult seas of diversity here….

The diversity of India is seldom only spoken of than realized; it is only when you travel the length and breadth of the country that you truly acknowledge the fact. Well diversity itself can be interpreted in several ways - we are a diverse country by means of culture, religion, region (linguistically decided), wealth and even sexual orientations. What is truly amazing is the fact that all of these diversities seem to coexist and cohabit in such a labyrinth that it is difficult to distinguish them apart, you may find yourself to be a color blind person looking at the rainbow, while you notice some differences you cannot really distinguish.

Past few weeks were spent doing a lot of things that I wanted to – like going out with some underprivileged children to a picnic, going back home to Delhi, reading, visiting the popular places of worship in Mumbai (a long pending task), donating blood etc. As time permitted I could do all this and more, for which I was quite self satisfied in the end.

I started with donating blood at the camp organized at work; after almost a year it actually felt nice as the blood went down the tube into the bag. It was my 12th donation (or 13th including an aphaeresis donation) and I felt as nice as I could have. What did not go well was the experience with the Bombay Hospital doctors and staff who had come over, they arrived late and packed up half hour early leaving more than a dozen expecting to be donors disappointed. No amount of requesting and convincing to stop them even five more minutes. In all my experience of organizing blood donation camps, I never have seen such an instance. More than anything I was disappointed that a lot of these people had mustered the courage to come forward to donate the first time, something now they would not want to try again after being turned away.

Next on the cards was the picnic to Nehru Planterium and Taraporewala Aquarium with the underprivileged children from an NGO A nice day spent together, which enriched our minds with knowledge, and rejuvenated us in the company of these young growing minds it was time to head home. Maybe what will change for these young minds will be the way they will gaze and try to read the patterns in the night sky. One good lesson the narrator conveyed was the humbleness to be felt in each of us after acknowledging the granular existence we have in the world of galactic proportions. The day long trip completed the panorama with the sky above, the land we live in and the sea beneath.

Just before leaving for Delhi, I had long day to finish with nothing to do so me and my room mate packed our luggage and headed out to a pilgrimage to the famous worship places in Mumbai. We started with the dargah of Haji Ali, a serene place to spend your time away from the haggling crowd of people and constant pushing. We also sat on the sea rocks and collected crab shells. The cool water surrounding the dargah is quite relieving. What made me a little unhappy was the commercialization outside the dargah, which had caused garbage littered all around. Next stoppage was Mahalaxmi mandir which was a 1 hour long wait in the sun to reach the temple gates, and in the this time the queue was at the mercy of the Mumbai police who were slapping innocent visitors to make sure the queue was a geometrically straight line. I made sure the havaldar kept his hands away from me.

Similar experience of waiting in lines at the next stop at Siddhi Vinayak temple, though I could have paid 50 bucks to arrange for a smaller VIP queue but chose to be a simpleton. Had a small quarrel with a shopkeeper outside who forced me to buy a basket of offering to the deity saying “This is mandatory, you cannot go inside without it”, seemingly constant bribing thrives here. I was not conforming to the ethos so felt a little untrue in the eyes in my love for the god. I wasn’t poor but there could have been a poor person in my place who called off his visit to the temple incase of a mandatory 51 bucks offering. Anyways after 20 mins of queuing up behind almost 2000 people I had moved about 15 feet and a long zig zag way to go, the priests declared that the mandir was to be closed for cleaning so they removed all barriers and asked the people to rush in for darshan. A queue that would have otherwise taken 1.5 hours was cleaned up in fifteen mins flat, and as I entered the bhavan for about 30 seconds the priest once again declared that one was responsible for their belongings such as purses and ornaments worn. All those 30 seconds I was either thinking out how to keep my purse safe or trying to take back the Prasad from the offering I made to the deity.

It is needless to now express how I felt after it, just looked at my watch it was 5:15 and I had to rush back to the airport. A Taxi – local train – autorickshaw later I was sitting in the aeroplane ready to fly back to home, to family and to another such diverse land. From 27 degrees heat to 2.7 degrees in cold and in less than 2.7 hours, such is the diversity we speak of. All through I retired myself to a book “India – A million mutinies now” by Sir VS Naipaul which is a great work on this subject. I hope I travel more to many a places and experience a little more.

Ego… that’s enough and all

Ego is a just a three letter word that can make a hell of a difference to a person’s life. A little less can crush you and a little more can be too much which may once be deadly. When ego measurement in an individual just falls at the right balance, it is noted to be self esteem. My experiences with Ego have been great – very learning and hard ones. If you analyze very carefully every statement that begin about our own self reflects a certain amount of ego. How often do we hear the statement “It hurts my self respect to do that” – that’s a true display of ego. Sometimes we do or we do not do things only on the basis of how our ego should respond.

As a matter of fact, ego sells specifically in youth and when you look at a country like India comprising a huge proportion of youth it sells like chowpatty chaat. I see ego flaunting as soon as I switch on the idiot box – what else is MTV Roadies, Stunt mania, and scores of other such shows. All through such discussions there would be a few malefactors you would want to punch in the face and a few low lying tom’s you want to give some pep talk. I don’t know how much money advertisers, film makers, and the entire media world is making only on the basis of a single statement – “I am better than the rest, I am the best”. Well this doesn’t directly come out so fluently, every time this is said with a few beeps from the censor board – it helps the ego of one and punctures the ego tire of twenty others and inflates ego tension in a hundred other viewers. Play it on, I’d say one serious marketing concept – EGO MARKETING, and we definitely don’t need a Drucker or a Kotler to explain that, it is implied but at times not realized. Anyways this is a never ending saga!

Ego is not only taken on as a tool by the advertisers and marketing men of media, but so much so by the pot bellied politicians of our beloved diverse country. They can be so powerful to easily turn on the ego of violet in the rainbow against the red, crazy enough to separate them. Well malefactors are abundant in our economy and culture. I saw this nice movie Yeh Mera India a couple of days back, the director possibly casted the finest of all B-class actors to perfection. Very delicately it showcased the diversity of the country and the prejudices conceived in our minds by politicians like Raj Thakrey. I have been in this state for almost six months now, I see an inseparable culmination of cultures, dialects, and faiths here. Isn’t it ego when some one fights with the other over calling the city – Bombay and not Mumbai. I always felt it was the same – were we not hurting the egos of a million marathis when for close to half a century after the brits left we called it Bombay. Where are we… going this way we’d be split like the tiniest granules of ocean salt which dissolve and become indistinguishable yet some one can still call it a molecule. We are the molecules in the atoms that Dalton never thought of. It may hurt his ego today…

I won’t recommend starting a Ego Day celebration…possibly because I fear a backlash from not the average manoos on the street but the one who smells beer in water, spews only venom – the man with the Tiger ego sitting high on his chair wishing to squash the average housefly.

Change is challenging!

Life is slowly changing… as we learn during MBA change is often the most difficult thing... However what is very ironical is that even though change is very exciting and almost each person on the face of the earth wants to feel this excitement we all are so precautious about it. Such a livid approach to what comes new in your life…but even so I am a little discomforted by it.

Last few days I have transitioning from one role to another at workplace; this has required me to double myself into working on Business as usual at one end while training myself on the other role. Even as I am enthralled by the technicalities of the new role, I am so attached to the previous one that I find hard to let go. Humans like me can get bored and attached to the same things at the same time. While in college, I always complained of the oil dripping chhole bhatures served every Tuesday dinner time, I now miss the forsaken ritual.

Sometime I feel the fear myself, if i would be defeated by the unknown and the unexplored. But even then I reform my opinions to the fact that to be successful in life one need to look for challenges, and by challenge I mean what discomforts each droplet of me. I am my greatest challenge at times, which to me betters the benchmark theories of GE. What can be written down or expressed cannot be impossible, infinity exists in our minds and not on paper. We can strive to create our own challenges, burn ourselves day and night. I am enchanted at the thought of the fact that daVinci could write with one hand and paint with the other at the same time. God blessed him with two parts of brain much like any of us but he trained them while we keep one in the store for neverday.

I was reading a nice blog piece by Sadia Dehlvi on www.thedelhiwalla.blogspot.com, about Ramzan fasting. More nicer than the entry were the numerous responses put up by the readers. No doubt fasting in Ramadan is auspicious and one of things every Muslim needs to undergo to be called one, never-the-less it is quite a challenging experience. I mean it can be relatively easy for people working on an EMEA shift but to someone working 9 – 6 it requires patience and devotion. Compulsion sometimes and also to be among equals as better drives people, one reason due to which some of us mortals give in to hunger while on the outside we may be fasting. Purely speaking it is our soul that should fast, not the liver. Soul fasting can mean abstinence from some but not renouncement. One can express his devotion by giving up something he dearly loves for a month. I am no one to question a religions long surviving practice but yes we have to think hard as times are for sure changing. Compulsion should drive donkeys not humans.

Well said by Anatole France, “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.” The perils of change often lead to the making of a tougher individual, while I am changing on a personal and professional front I hope it does some good to my future. I pray to be placid in mind and gullible to new knowledge. For now I feel like the slim matador on a new mucho grande hot headed bull, I cant fall off the back for I fear the stampings while I am conscious that the bull will for sure throw me away…Cheers to life!

Seeking solace and salvation within...

Last two days were spent finding inner peace...when the outer world changes the inner tries hard to strike a balance...and sometimes it is only in the unknown that one finds true peace... and I have tried hard to get busy living. People often become your greatest source of knowledge but the challenge is uncover the information from opinions that all of us carry inseparably in our souls.

Chowpatty on Saturday evening, after a long (2.5 km) walk on Marine Drive was quite an experience only because the beach was colourful with people coming in hordes for the immersion of the Ganesha idols into the ocean. People played in colors, chanted the beauty of their beloved elephant god and finally went thirty feet in to the water to give him away to eternity. Simply sitting on the beach and watching this ritual made me unquestionably emotional. Bringing home your lord for a few days and then celebrating his departure with equal jest and celebration. I also visited a gujrati colleagues’ home for the ganesh pujan... the entire atmosphere of the house seemed so pious and pure, the beauty of the idol and lots of family and friends visiting to pay their greetings and visit the homecoming of the god was an enchanting experience. The family had called over a small troupe of shehnai and table players who lit up the environment with classical play of melodies like Ragupati raghav and Vaishnav Janto... I will not forget to mention here that these were a few of Gandhi’s favourite recitals and I had then clutched in my hands a copy of “The Men who Killed Gandhi”... I had intended to stop only for an hour but the mesmerising shehnai (and two cups of nice homely tea) ensured that I was fixed to the chair...ah! How I wish I had attended the Spic Macay concert of Ustad Bismillah Khan sahib back in college... Sometime we unknowingly miss simple pleasures of life...

I also spent some time in the lanes of Zaveri Bazaar on Saturday evening, which I must say are very much like the lanes of chaandani chowk in Delhi. Passion fruit (called papnas) was something new I got to see here amidst scores of jewellery and electricity shops. I felt closer to Mumbai for sometime which was for a change a nice feeling... I finally ended up near Masjid Bandar where I purchased a pair of brown leather shoes (something I have done first time in my life). The market sense has gone so weird that the shop keepers don’t seem to have respect for the old fashioned... for the first 15 minutes I had to convince the shop agent that I do not want “noke waale joote” or ones with ugly designs or sequins...I just wanted a plain pair of shoes which after much haggling I managed to get off his inventory, however no nonsense or bargaining was nice despite me being a bania. Anyways, I do not know if the weekend was a happy one, but it was definitely one which gave a lots of peace to me.

Quoting Rumi “I went to the river to quench my thirst, and there I drank the moonlight”, I am in search of such a river that expands before me the true reflection of whatever I experience. I would just say “What I do not know is what that fails me today, but what I intend to know is something that makes me tommorrow..” To find inner solace is a challenge, because complacency becomes tangentially related. And then when it gets too difficult Salvation lies within...

Carpe Diem...Peace to one and all..

Today..more intriguing than any reality show?

Finally 4 months after landing in Bombay I do get time to start over blogging once again. Mumbai (or Bombay) is a very similar city as compared to Delhi, only slightly faster and the fact that it sleeps lesser than its political sibling. If Delhi is the City of Dil-wallahs then Mumbai is the city that never sleeps. If delhi is home to the politicians then Mumbai is no less housing the stars of bollywood. Never-the-less Delhi will always be home for me, and home is where heart is.

Bollywood city always reminds me of TV, and the numerous reality shows that have started crowing on the various channels. Sarkar ki Duniya coming on a channel named Real. Nice way there, maybe they should pitch in to make the channel for reality shows only. I don’t know why but Ashutosh Rana looks really devilish, if I’d ever watch it would be to add on some new hindi vocab from Rana impress my Hindi teaching mum. Sach ka Saamna picked from a similar concept from the west is another show that made the headlines in the past few weeks or so. Looking so similar to KBC, only difference is that questions are so beautiful that if you do not want your life to ever be peaceful, then go ahead be a part of it. Every Tom who looks like your next door neighbor Harry turns out to be Dick on the other side of the show. Damn it, the host gets so ridiculous when somebody actually walks out with cash and without ruining his/her life. I guess Rakhi Sawant should be brought on the hot-chair and asked a few quick ones, and the prize should be a nice 200 volt if you get it wrong and money if u can manage the truth. Rakhi made a sure shot donkey of the poor fellow from Canedda (it’s a part of our beloved Punjab much like Southall). I am sure he’d be raising kids on TV next. Anyways enough fun has been made on her, on MTV already and Ilesh is already bald!

Then there are some catty shows like Splitzvilla, which is possibly based on a concept synonymous to inflation. Too many boys chasing too few good looking skinny girls. Psycologists need to figure out a solution for Anorexia amongst North Indian women, my fellow madrasi flat mate always can find chubbier and better looking actresses in his vernacular movies. Another show is about selecting a couple of pit-stoppers for dear mr. vijay mallaya’s Force India F1 team, I am sure if they are going to conduct such national level screening for selecting these girls the entire race track would stop. If some manage to hit the gas pedal, they’d be up in flames before they know. By the way, Mr. Mallaya when is the next Kingfisher Calendar coming out?

And finally there are some dudes and dudettes battling it out for a chrome Pulsar bike doing all sorts of stunt mania to impress kiddos. I say come to West Delhi, or to DND flyover at mid-night and you can see GODS racing..Arre nahi bhai! its not Indraji racing on his elephant but Group of Delhi Super-bikers. Every possible stunt fails when they claim to reach Jaipur from Delhi, have breakfast and come back all in six hours on their vrooming Honda’s and Yamaha’s. What a waste of time, trying to win a bike by trying all death defying stunts, ask your mum and dad to get you a tri-cycle instead.

Jungle Raaj hai!... finally Is Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao scores over the rest. Once again copied from the west. I am really not sure and possibly support every person who thinks that the show is shot in either Sunderbans in Bengal or in the Veerappan jungles of Karnataka. No ways they’d go to film 10 donkeys yelling at each other, eating crabs and snakes and insects in Malaysia. They can’t even go hunting, had they been in a true jungle, they could have atleast butchered a baboon or atleast a teetar-bater. All the failures on the Tier-2 shows on TV come to participate for money, which they eventually don’t win. The truth is “Jinko Koi nahi puucchta unko reality show wale bula lete hain”.

Anyways, don’t you think I am loser following these shows on the Idiot box. It just that you cant escape from brief moments while switching channels at night, while the other truth is that every other channel has one such show running incessantly. If not then you can see repeat telecast with detailed analytics on any News Show. Thanks specifically to Rajat Sharma’s India TV, which is more entertaining than the antics of Mr. Bean.

Seize the day… make more reality of your life than watching some one else’s reality because while you can never figure out if the other person is actually faking it or not, you definitely can draw some sense into your actions.

Slipping Sands of Time...

If you noticed the anguish in reading my last few blogs and now didn’t get anything to read like that, then the reason is that I was home for the last two months. Nah! I wasn’t given the pink slip on day 1 at JPMorgan, my joining got delayed so I happily got to stay at home for 60 days. These holidays gave me a lot of time to think about family, future life and need to work. No matter how much I slept back at IBS here I had a schedule, woke up at 7 in the morning and slept at 11 pm. Frankly even a Slumdog feels like a millionaire when home, two square meals cooked by mum is more than any Oscar or Bafta…

One of the best things ever happened in my life happened just as I quit IBS and came back…I got an i-lasik done to remove my long distance vision. I am no longer handicapped with a pair of glasses shielding my corneas. The operation took about 8 minutes and just as I appreciate the small things in life, I could appreciate the beauty of clearly pointing out (to my awe struck parents) the number of holes an electrical socket had with my bare eyes. And don’t you try wondering if I had taped eyes for days and I couldn’t see for the first few days…I could see right after the operation and neither did I yell “Mirindaaaa” on seeing my mum, well she wasn’t in a orange saree either…I was awake throughout the operation and only my eyes were numbed, I spoke to the sardarji doc (he was a Padma Sree awardee) and could move my hands and feet while the laser beam did its work. So powerful is the technology today I wondered…it is mighty no doubt. I wondered can a laser beam modify the contours of Taliban infested Pakistan just as it did for my eyes.

Another new thing that appeared in my book of life was I started stock trading…Having spent a magnanimous amount on my education and the following surgery; I was lent a sum of 10000 bucks to try my luck. It wasn’t a free economy I traded in, I mean it was heavily regulated by my experienced mum and dad who would look into what I planned to buy in the intra-day….at times the opportunity was lost while communicating my intention and getting their approval…never mind I managed to retire with a decent profit (read ROI, man I am a financial analyst) of about 30%. Still cant be compared to many folks back in college who could churn up ten times each month...Frankly it requires a lot of courage, and if any Security Analysis student of MBA feels its equivalent to Moneybhai.com then he should try shitting in a glass walled toilet and say it feels the same…

Goodbye to IBS wasn’t tough at all finally, I managed to graduate with a fairly decent CGPA though I was unhappy with my final semester marks given my efforts…I managed an A on my dissertation which was very pleasing. Atleast researching Carbon credits got me something better than the rest. I heard about a lot of folks still being in campus till mid-april trying for placements. I wish them luck and early departure from Hyderabad…

Rendezvous with Mumbai begins in ten days and I am all anxious to peep in the new kaleidoscope, smell the fresh vada-paos and swim in the famous rainfalls. Delhi 1-99 (not only 6) will have to wait for me for quite some time…I wish the Dariba’s paranthewallas and jalebi wallah, the kachchoris and chhole bhature of Kamala Nagar a tearful goodbye… You can only wish the people you love a teary goodbye for the ones its bilateral you can only smile and say I’ll be back soon…Words have deeper meanings which at times are best left unexplained. I wish I had a pause button on life but cant help it even SRK promoted Dish TV cant give me what I want…I could have stopped Shoaib Akhtar from dropping the ball and the Black knight running in the gymkhana but what cant be stopped is the tiniest granules of the sands of time that slip more the harder you grasp them….Peace to one and all…Jai Ho!!

The Last Goodbye!

Just about a week away from my final semester exams here at IBS Hyderabad nee Dontanpally, and a fortnight away from possibly leaving this place to never see it again. 21 months in to the MBA program, and let me tell your frankly I am not going to reminisce these days save for the enormous sleep hours they gave me. Someone here may call me insane, but if so insanity has been my virtue all this time here and surprisingly brought the most unbelievable changes. I have found myself to be transformed from a fun loving, extroverted and cheerfully well behaved boy to an anti-social, bookwormish grizzly looking man. Ask me what I’d miss most when I go back home from here or to Bombay, and I’d say two things – fresh air and the looking into a million starred clear sky each night. Possibly you may have counted me into being a cynical idiot by now and frankly I do hope that this piece of blog is not read by my employers to be.

I have grown much fatter than I was before coming here, a realization that only happens once a couple of days when I decide to bathe and look into the mirror. That’s purely thanks to my regime of no exercise, frequent trips to bingers bliss and to the canteen and precisely with thanks to RKHS - the greatest mess caterers in India. I can survive on biscuits, cake, and bread and cheese every meal of the day which frankly that makes me the most suitable candidate for a job in the western world. I wear possibly the worst lot in my wardrobe, most of the good part has already been kept away in suitcases and almirahs back home for better days and better occasions.

And to talk about celebration would be a simple joke as I had decided to abstain myself from any months away when I had come here. I do not wish to carry any memories of a wrong decision on my way back to where I came from. What I have gained here are three initials that I may use after my name having purchased them on a 12% bank loan of a million rupees. I am to go back precisely where I came from, to what precisely I would have been had I not come here. Surprisingly I have not attended a single birthday party, the college fresher’s welcome, the two annual fests, my farewell and other festival celebrations excluding a single Diwali when someone threw a cracker bomb on me and caused my departure in less than 5 minutes. Finally I strongly believe that I wouldn’t be here for my convocation ceremony as well. As can be said “There’s going to be no looking back”….

To this point one must be finding all faults in me, and the truth is that even I find myself to be a natural failure here. Like an American president once said “Ask not what the system can do for you, but what can you do for it”, precisely I haven’t done a wee bit to make these two years a better part of my life. I have cursed and cursed every element and entity surrounding my existence here not purely because I despise them but for I despise the relationship that was built on a regretful decision. I have been extremely temperamental and pugnacious in my behavior. This blog was made during my time here, so I find it to be a place to keep the blatant thoughts ploughing my cranium for long. I am thankful to my family for standing by with me at all times of my desperation, and hope to give them a better and a more considerate me from now on provided the head on my shoulders finds peace, respect and trust within. I have changed to be a person of a quiet taste and high aspirations, doesn’t mean I do not like to speak so opportunities like this come along every now then when I find a blank word sheet. I am a ship anchored on the shore raring to hit the seas again; Thomas Edison once said “There’s a great virtue in failure: You get to start all over again”, maybe I just need to make peace with myself and gear myself up for the tides would never stop coming.

I am also thankful to this place as the fresh air and sleep gave me enuff time to structure myself in peace, its like chiselling the wood finely to bring forth a beautiful sculpture. Often before i sleep i would listen to the song from Guru:

Jaage hain der tak, hamein kucch der so lene do
Thodi si raat aur hai, subah toh hone do
Aadhe adhure khwaab jo poore na ho sake
ek baar phir se neend mein woh khwaab boune do

Finally, I feel like a 8 year old who packs his bags and waits for the school bell to ring so that he can shoot off his desk and run to his home. Farewell for once isn’t a difficult word to say! For myself, I would only say "I am going to Kiss the World". Cheers to Life, Goodluck & Godspeed to fellows at IBS.

Swades Mera...India - Built to Last

Nor is this blog about the book by Collins & Perros or the movie Swades. It not about anyone but us…us Indians. Makes me wonder at times how should I refer to myself, to the core I am nothing more than a Dilliwalla but doesn’t that count me in to be an Indian. I never got a reserved entry into Univ of Delhi despite having being born and brought up in delhi, so I cannot even be referred to as a domiciled candidate as my friends from other states were at different engineering colleges in their states. I am not writing this to object to any reservation funda brought up by Shriman Arjun Singh or anyone, I am doing this to express my anguish at the state of affairs in Mumbai. The difficult life that not only Mumbaikars but each and every citizen of India has gone through in the past three days.

Can I tell you the sinking feeling in my heart seeing the Taj Mahal Hotel in flames, hell! It was and I couldn’t go to sleep till long. Maybe each Indian those three days lived up to the character of the city – Mumbai the city which never sleeps. NSG didn’t sleep, Barkha Dutt didn’t sleep, Toral Varia didn’t sleep, ATS didn’t sleep, my hostel didn’t sleep, even the scores of pigeons fluttering over the Taj day and night didn’t but maybe one person slept all through this…need I say his name aloud…RAJ THAKREY. Where is the messiah of all the Marathi manoos has vanished, where did his clairvoyance disappear when 12 devils were ravaged Maratha’s Mumbai in a dastardly act? NSG commandos more Indian than Marathi in blood saved the city from the clutches of paranoid terrorists. We do not need any reassurance from anyone today to say we stand united nor do we need to light any candles at Gateway of India. We are wide awake…and we can tell this to numerous politicians who do not even have the balls to hang Abu Salem who has been in their custody. It didn’t take America more than 10 months to bring the noose up on Saddam Hussain, and what are we doing here – feeding umpteen insurgents enjoying in our gaols. I say this country needs to treat the barbarians as the law in their times existed – eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. I must appreciate the messages sent out my Suhel Seth and even Harsha Bhogle, for they have been very truthful in their remarks. The youth of India (mind it as Rahul Gandhi said makes up the 70% of all Indians) do not need a Sangh Parivar, MNS or Shiv Sena to tell us the law and we do not want hypocrites for our leader. When would we stop fooling ourselves and elect a PM who has working knees and jaws to stand up for us and voice us. When would the day come when we know we are electing Mr. X as PM and not that we vote for Sonia Gandhi as PM and Manmohan sits on the chair. The world knew Obama, Bush, and Clinton as President much before they became one with democracy.

We can deal with terrorists coming from Karachi but we cannot deal with the shenanigans put up hypocrites (read politicians) who cause trouble in the form of internal insurgency. Man! We do not even have state emblems like US does, we do not have state citizens, we are nothing more than Indians and that doesn’t tell anyone the color of our skin or the language we speak or the race or state we belong to. I am not an anti democrat but probably what this country needs today is a military leader who has the guts to drive out insanity in here. After all the common man is not Amitabh Bachchan to buy himself a mauser and keep it under his pillow before sleeping. A genuine gun costs more than the per capita income of ten Indians put together so logically we can rule that out.

You know what I salute those men in black – NSG commandos who do not have a religion above the tricolor which doesn’t prioritize saffron from green..what it captures in between is peace in white and ashok chakra which is the mantle of forgiveness, of faith, of truth and of resilience. We are built to last, and have shown that to the world for ages and now we only need to project this self belief a billion times over. The destruction of Bamiyan Buddhas in Afghanistan did not wipe out Buddhism from the face of the earth what was gone was two pieces of stone….thats an answer enough to the barbarians who do not have any race, religion or nationality….

Today lets sing the song Rev. Charles Tindley gave us and ignite the lights within us for the truth is out there…..We shall overcome, we shall overcome, someday..deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday…

Is life a Zero Credit Course?

Another day, another semester and a whole set of new courses to study. The problem is not coursework but what is to be included in the course. I chose my electives, do I care to study why Dove launched a certain marketing strategy or do I study why Tata took Corus or should I be studying why Gold follows a certain price trend. So little time and so much to absorb before I leave this place in about four months now, I worry thinking what will do when I won’t have a sound 12 hours sleep or what will I do when I wont be going home every 4 months.

No matter how aloof you want to remain, the truth is that hostel life teaches you a lot something’s directly onto you whereas something’s subtly but certainly. I couldn’t have imagined spending days holed up in a 10*10 room but I do now and much to my enjoyment. I care about my own soap and shampoo supplies and food too. I have to take care of dirty linens, even though my room looks much like a bachelors abode I try incessantly to clean it. And more so I am responsible for my own security and safety, specifically I would like to remind you at this stage that one of rooms here had a problem of the ceiling fan dropping down every now and then because of poor plastering. Given the size of the room and mine and the fan, I would prefer to sleep in the balcony even if the college provides me a life insurance of a million dollars.

One of most interesting financial and operational activities in a hostel is “Borrowing”, well no one wants to lend but still borrowing happens – don’t ask how. Whether it be your best pair of shoes, your business suit, your t-shirt that your girl gifted you or even some green backs from your wallet, they always disappear into the crowd and the next time you meet them you may not even be sure if you have met them before. Let alone the petty stuff like matchboxes, cigarettes and other food stuff specially sweets. I don’t smoke but still I have been asked so many times for a matchstick by my cigar smoking neighbor that I actually started stocking matchboxes. One of my friends stocks sweets but keeps an empty sweet box to show people who come asking for a fatty recharge. While some also manage to bring cartons and cartons (I am not exaggerating) of aloo bhujia of a specific halwai in Calcutta, some barely survive on the monotonous flavors in the mess. No matter what the mess cooks, it all tastes the same.

Half past the night, when the actual life in a hostel begins you may have a buddy coming over to ask for some alcohol or some chakna to go with it. And to tell you the truth, this happens most on the days when the night café inside the hostel is closed. At two in the night if you manage to walk past the warden’s room you can still hear the photocopier buzzing, and the printer running. From morning ten to night ten, the barber never stops shaving and cutting. Doesn’t he get bored, its his job I am told but then I wonder is mine going to be similar in terms or routine, I hope not. I would like a lot of movement within and outside the office, flexi-hours, lots of good stuff to eat and loads of time to sleep.

And one of the best things to learn from is the travel back to hostel, it takes me two hours to fly back from Delhi to Hyderabad and almost similar duration to travel from the Hyderabad airport to my hostel. Even if I come by train which takes 26 hours the journey only ends after 28, I constantly view city followed by a village and jungles and is the same pattern here. And what to say about learning when you meet 40 national level athletes in your train bogey travelling without a confirmed train ticket, its like a track field you can see long jumps happening, track and hurdles races and relays. As much as three managing to sleep on a single seat wasn’t a demonstration of a gareeb rath that lalu started, but it was definitely showcasing the poor halaat of sports authority of india. One of the fellow grumbles “Just once let me get a medal, I will teach the f****** system a lesson”, and I only guess his agony and help him onto my berth for a few hours of sleep before he runs for the medal. Probably his innocent eyes can see the difference between the sweet lime soda he gets and the two glasses of fresh juice his coach gets paid for him...

I am learning all this apart from the electives and I don’t get credits for this in my GPA, when I pen this down I am merely writing a dissertation on my life and times for which I have no one guide assigned to me. Better be back to my books or they will find other readers, hang on and shout your thoughts for I will be back soon….

Redemption in the Pursuit of Happyness

Often have I felt my grip loosening over the thing I have wanted the most for the moment. What we call as fate or destiny most often comes forth once the failure happens. Last one and a half years I had been living a life completely reliant on fate, but to be true with time your faith in yourself reduces so did mine. The things I thought I was much capable of were now turning to look alien to me. My outer self projected a confident personality but within I was a scared individual who was waiting for opportunities. Now opportunities mean results in the end, and what I was most scared of was failure as I am sure most of us are. While most of my colleagues at the b-school were reading through newspapers, magazines and economic journals I was preparing myself mentally. I did not hesitate in sharing this with anyone I knew in return for some general knowledge; the exercise was always good as the other party felt mentally strong while I had figures and numbers to talk of. When I saw motion pictures like "The Pursuit of Happyness" or "The Shawshank Redemption", I felt motivated but the truth was that I wasn't in the protagonists shoes.

One thing I had judged from my past experience in appearing for interviews was that the panel looked for smart talkers who could be trained and molded as per their requirements. The more I entered the room the more I knew what made a perfect disposition. I could pleasantly say no to things that I wasn’t aware of, and possibly diverting their interest to things that I was more confident with. One question I always asked myself before entering the interview room was “Am I supposed to know everything??...” If the answer ever came “Yes” then I told myself that I have no reason to be here….I came here to learn and will learn for days and times to come. I recalled what my boss during my summers always said “It’s not about putting forth the right answers, it about asking the right questions”. And to be truthful I stuck on to this, while my peers learnt answers I prepared myself for asking the right questions.

This alone did not mean that I wouldn’t ever lose. Infact to my utter dismay I finally wasn’t selected in my first application to one of the most coveted i-banks of the world after several rounds of selection process. The first response one gets from everyone he/she knows after the failure is “there are better things in store for you”…were there or not I wasn’t sure, but definitely I wasn’t dying and there was another day and another battle. This time around I was to appear for the strongest and the biggest bank in the world. I took a cue from the Director of the company who came for a brief talk, he said “Most of us can get away from the hardest situations if we know how to speak and how to react”…It was again learning till he said “but not here in our company”…. I wasn’t sure if I would succeed given this time the battle started with a situation where I considered myself weakest. None the less after 10 hours of process and constant pep talk by other interviewees I was able to convince myself to settle for nothing but the best. The announcement of success was not at all scintillating; I sat on my seat, no tears of joy or no shouts in excitement. The glitter was more felt in other's that in mine. Probably I was just numb, well I wouldn't say that I could not absorb the success…I had but certain times in life you just fail to equate what you lost to what you regained. Redemption is not all that easy…In my heart I thanked my family, I thanked my girl and I thanked all who believed in me but yet I guess there are there are more mountains to climb, more chasms to jump across and more dreams to relive before I rejoice this moment. Good luck to all my friends and peers who still await a worthy challenge…

The Jungle Diary...

Again I’d begin this piece with a question.Which animal do you like?..Dog, Lion, Gorilla or Monkey??

This entry is not an outcome of a visit to the Nehru zoological park or an Animal Care center but a result of the last 15 months spent in a jungle. They call it a village but I am more content at heart calling it a jungle. You would ask Why? Well, how often do you wake up to find a chameleon sharing the bed with you…Hey don’t laugh, I actually meant a ominous looking younger brother of an alligator and a cousin of our house mate lizard. I did sleep with it a couple of times. And spent another few days living with a mouse in my room, bathed in a shower accompanied by a species of frog that could climb the wall, and shared reading the newspaper while sitting on the pot with another frog. For some reason I have had a testing time with them, not to mention that I am a great lover of dogs and want to co-direct a documentary on the dog habits in a b-school which a close friend is working on. Again I am referring only to dogs – as in the four legged ones…

Spiders often come out of my trouser pockets which were left hanging by the hook in the cupboard and an odd visit by a dragon fly or a cockroach is enough to send me running for my slippers. I am saving the Economics Times for my placements, otherwise what better purpose could it have served. To top it all I say the morning greetings to atleast a million centipedes and crickets while on way to the academics block every morning. I had the pleasure of sighting a kingfisher, a raven and some wild hens some days back while going to the nearby shack restaurant “Sardarji da dhaba”. And the last time there was a powercut and I was walking on the highway, I could spot some glowing flies too. Some of us friends had a jolly time chasing a mole in the hostel corridor for two hours past mid-night last semester, it was an awesome break considering I had a Economics exam the next morning. One of the female batch mates had a baby monkey sitting in her balcony which was enough make her go bananas. Buffaloes, Goats and Cows are a common sight anywhere in India so I’d discount them from detail.

After all this I wonder that living in a city that boasts of India’s largest Cobra (snake) population I seem to have come far from just being a management graduate…maybe they could do with introducing an extra elective on Zoology or even veterinary science. We have a vet doc and lotsa zoology grads here who can oblige with a few lectures. I can’t say much about going to a zoo but atleast I save time from spending on the Reptiles show on Discovery…. I must confess that this place is not much exciting for ornithologists as it has been time since I looked at a pigeon or a house sparrow.

I guess I saw something scampering across the rough patch near the drain, guess it is a goosebump…while I shut off my doors ‘cos I sure don’t wanna sleep with this one, you make sure your pockets have only what you have put in and not something which may have crawled in....ha ha ha