Dwi

Around 20 years back, my hairline started receding. ‘The good lord giveth all, the good lord taketh all,’ someone said. But I kept trying recommendations. Lived in state of denial for some time, held grudge against the God thereafter, while hair loss continued, until there was nothing left to lose. My mother said my hairs were curly when I was a little boy.


I live with the loss today. It doesn’t bother me anymore. What remains, is the gratitude towards what I had once.


Guess we all learn to live without something or someone dear. There lies our freedom, and theirs. Just have to understand their role and their stage in our lives and move on.


In 2002, in an evening we were complaining about the food James, our helper at the Siemens guest house in Dehradun, prepared for us.


“He has no sense of taste or variety. Cooks the same stuff every second day. Doesn’t even ask us what to cook”, we cribbed while James listened, with his head down.


Kanan looked at us in disbelief. “Tell me if you guys have made any attempt to inform him in advance about what you like to eat?” She asked.


“You talk about your customer’s been rude to you, aren’t you guys equally rude customers? aren’t you guys equally inflexible?” And she smiled. Kanan was our project manager. More than that she knew how to manage racoons like us.


From that time onwards, I have always tried to put myself into customer’s shoes; have tried to become a good customer myself. Have also made efforts to understand people’s perspectives and have chosen my battles carefully.


In 2017, I shifted to Singapore with family. Had to engage a helper given my daughter is too young and my mother bit old.


We had never engaged a helper to stay with us full time. But thankfully there have been several agencies in Singapore those provide references to choose from. An issue was, the maids had put their Instagram worthy pics. More than 50% of them appeared too attractive and hence not qualified. Well I thought so.


We finally chose a girl based on our intuition. She appeared simple and non-descript; thought we could start with that. After waiting for her around a month, we met Dwi Lestari in May 2017.


In following months and years, I saw her learning and doing things, carrying out her work at home and outside, taking care of people at home, her patience and her intelligence. She has been my hero and remains by far, the most intelligent and determined lady I have met.


She lived without any support of husband, away from her small child and her mother. She looked after us with great care and grace, in spirit of meeting our expectations. Last December when her mother passed away, she went to her home town for a couple of weeks, put her child to a friend’s place and came back to finish her contract, despite all my requests and advice not to come back. Life’s greatest lessons come at unexpected places. I learnt how to deal with a customer, at home.


Dwi left us last Friday after completing her contract. She has been able to save some money. I know she is going to make best use of it, perhaps towards what she likes to do, run a small business selling clothes. I am sure she will be successful in that too. Like her name, all that I’ve learnt from her, will stay abiding in me.

A life of details..

Few weeks back on a Friday, a meeting started at 6.30 PM. It was a tough discussion, on a technically complex topic with multiple interdependencies and unknowns. Joined only to ensure everyone gets clarity on next steps. But towards the end, I was one completely drained.

‘Why do you take everything on yourself?’ asked Kuhoo. She calls every evening to remind that I have a home to come back to.

On the way back, the taxi driver explained why I should opt for ECP rather than taking Marine Parade Road. Later at home, saw in the news that Federer lost to one Del Porto. And before I slept, a friend messaged that of late I appear hoary and hassled. 

‘Even this shall pass…’ I thought. Weekend was coming.

..of lost identities..

But my little daughter refuses to cognize weekends. 

So I got up as usual on Saturday; and sat in the living room facing the balcony. Nice clouds, lots of wind and Ira in my lap, rehearsing the poems she learnt recently. She would kiss me occasionally and smile. And I would forget how ugly or stupid I look to the world.

Time is changing. Many take themselves too seriously. Some are serious about their wisdom, some about their looks. And then that desperation for such wisdom or looks to be admired. Yet no one sticks to a King Solomon or Marilyn Monroe. 

As a result it seems, desperation in growing into identity crisis. Looking good is no more enough, comparisons are necessary, others must be proved 'not good enough'. If that doesn't work, try tantrums, absurdity if must.

A life of details..

I haven’t been able to fit in much. Somewhat lonely in my life of details. But I still see each person is inimitable. And I have learnt to be even more patient.

It feels so bad to see how quickly our young ones get bored. Video games come with life-like graphics, devices are simple to use and exciting. One can become a Joe or Alex, a champion racer or fighter and that with a re-start button. Recognition is easy and quick in the virtual world; real life requires a lot more rigor, a lot more routine.

It’s not all gloom and doom though. These kids are quicker learners. They also have a wider network. They are just different. And they are in rush. Perhaps they see world changing quicker than we’ve seen so far.

It’s more critical than ever before that we let these kids decide which subject or sports interest them. And while they pursue their interests; we leave them with a couple of cardinal advice:

First, they should not carry any sense of entitlement. No one is obliged to entertain them, much less care for what they want. So they may have to walk alone. If they get any help or encouragement, they should be grateful.

Second, it’s ok to be ordinary. But they must take things up. Fail or excel, but don’t let a false recognition drift them away from their purpose. Keep in mind that some of the most reliable things in this world are made by people who failed the most. 

Shores..

The phone rang relentlessly during the wee hours.

“Who is calling?” bit uneasy I picked up, seeing an unknown number.

“Recognize me?”

 “Sorry. I am unable to.” I tried hard. The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t remember.

“You once told you can identify my voice in a crowd.”

“Disha!”

“Yes. You loser.”

I chuckled. Felt so good to hear from an old friend. “Where are you?”

“Listen I have just come to KL.”

“Idiot, you are telling me now.”

“Am with a tour group. Will stay at Colmar Tropicale till Sunday afternoon. And then we’ll proceed to Kota Kinabalu. Can we meet today?”

“At Colmar?”

“Yes. I will message later in morning. My Freaky Ali wants to go for golf. But I like to catch up, we’ll go for a trek may be. Come please, no excuses.” She hung up.

“Which girl friend is missing you now?” Kuhoo mumbled, half asleep.

“Disha and Rohit have come to KL”.

“Great. Coming here? When?”

“No. They are in a group staying at Colmar Tropicale. Rohit is going for golf in morning. Disha will stay back, wants us to join her.” I told about her plan.

“Ira is coughing. I think I won’t be able to come. Tell them to drop by on their way back from Kota Kinabalu.”

“Alright then.” I went back to sleep.

Mussourie, 2001

I met Disha in August 2001 in Mussourie. Average looks, bit tomboyish, very cheerful. She was part of a scout group that stayed in same hotel where I stayed during Janamastami weekend. In evening the hotel had organized a common bonfire for hotel guests. Scout boys and girls sat and sang there till late. That evening Disha also sang, and sang quite well.

Next day, I saw her again during breakfast. Complimented on her voice and suggested her to record some songs and send for auditions. Later we roamed around Mall Road, Company Garden, Gun Hill etc. And from that day on we have been in touch over e-mails, which became sparser since 2008, around the time she got married.

That Sunday, I realized that behind the aura of an abrupt and cheerful girl, Disha was a very sensitive person. She could see every little thing; she could explain difference between a fir and a pine tree while both appeared like a Christmas tree to me; she knew them by their aromas. She could talk about leaves and flowers and of hills and roads. Of people far up, and of places oblivious to this mad world. And of connection and her ability to carry those connections inside her. And finally of her wish that her heart could always be wheedled, for she always wanted to be happy.

Colmar Tropicale, 2016

I reached Colmar Tropicale around 9.30 AM. Saw Disha waiting near a cafe. She looked chubbier, and a bit fairer.

“You have got mature looks now.” She smiled. “Where is Sher Khan?”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure whether that meant I looked too old. “She couldn’t come. She has asked you guys to drop over”.

“OK. I will talk to her.” She said.

“So, how is Dubai?” I started, trying not to appear clumsy.  

“You really want to know that?”

“No. Dubai would know better.” We said together and laughed.

There was a lot to catch up on. We continued to talk as we had breakfast, and then walked around Japanese gardens and Organic farm. Disha had stopped traveling, spent most of her time at home, and visited her local friends and those in India, occasionally. And she’d stopped singing long back. She wasn’t the same person I met 15 years ago.

I blabbered more, while she was thinking or observing. And then she asked.

“What do you like more? The waves or the shore?”

“Depends.” I wasn’t ready for such question. “At times, I will like to ride the waves; and then perhaps, will like to be at the shore.”

“Have you found the shore?” She looked into my eyes.

That got me zapped. Finally I spoke, “No. I am still learning to live through. People and their expectations affect me. Sometimes I do get hurt.”

“So what have you learnt?”

“The waves always find a shore.”

She smiled, her eyes shining. We sat quiet for some time. Later we came to the hotel lobby. Rohit returned around 12.30 PM. After lunch with them, I drove back home.

Disha messaged in evening, “Thanks for everything. Indeed, there are no quick fixes. Just needed some motivation, some reason to continue. Been looking for the shore all the time, now I have a reason to stay with the waves. They will find my shore. See you soon.”

Dreams of tomorrow..

The driver cursed the road conditions, municipality officers, and everyone walking on the road as we got stuck in a jam at the old Beadon Street of Kolkata. Ira was sleeping, Adi trying to solve some puzzle in mobile. The cars and bikes honked impatiently, and to make things worse, it started raining. I was looking out of the window.

“Any message from Richard?” Kuhoo asked.

“No”.

My reply made her more curious. Life hasn’t been easy in recent months. Too much of traveling, turbulence at work, health condition of few dear ones, and my own health didn’t help much. And the onset of autumn, the season that has brought several big changes in my life.

I was traveling back to KL that night. With some reflections on the days in India, and some learnings.

 

No one is indispensable?

In last two months, I saw a promising guy sacrificing his career to support his ailing father; a doctor deciding not to marry to continue supporting his bed-ridden parents; a dear one passed away, and another who isn’t left with much hope. When I look at their lives, I realize the value of a person, without whom paths of many lives will change forever.

There ‘are’ indispensable people in our lives, in our societies and surrounding establishments. They are everywhere; even in the history books.

Take some risks

Growing up in a competitive environment, fear of failure, social pressure etc. have made many of us habitual risk-averse. We have stopped experimenting, and try to get into a comfort zone as quick as possible.

But actually there is no late age to start anything. And many a time the biggest roadblocks are just thoughts. Surprises could be our best teachers, and how we respond shows our character and resolve.

 

On my side of the road was a tea shop. There was a lone old man, quite old, nondescript perhaps unwell too, busy in cleaning, arranging his kettles and glasses all by himself. The mud-stove was lit but the empty benches suggested there wasn’t any customer.

When it started raining, he suddenly jumped out of the shop. Stumbled over the water logged drain and somehow avoided the rains falling in the mud-stove. I thought that was unnecessary because he hurt his leg in doing that. Anyway there was no customer, and then an injury could have resulted in shutting his shop and business for few days.

But as quickly as he’d jumped out, he went back to his place and put the kettle on. While I blamed the rain, the old man used that as opportunity. He got four-five customers in people who hid near his shop due to rains.

I couldn’t stop grinning. And there he saw me. He knew I was into his world for some time. He smiled back.

There is a quiet in chaos, a rhythm in disorder. Within indispensability and risks lie the very fabric of life. We cannot be afraid of living. We can not be afraid of our dreams.  

 

Pic: By Sudhir Gupta

 

Let go..

 

The challenge of our lives has never been in reaching extremes. It has been in reaching the right balance and staying relevant.

Guess we all learn this as time passes by, sooner or later. To me, the change process has been quite a hassle though.

Don’t let go..

Undeniably over the years I have developed a tendency to not let go. I fell several times, and rose stronger.

This tendency has helped me overcome all failures and fallacies so far. One day when my life demanded me to study statistics, I studied statistics; then it pointed towards law, I did law; and the pattern continues as I continue to respond and learn newer tricks and trades. The thought has been, if I can manage 10, why can’t 15; when 15, why can’t 20, and so on. If there ever was a question on ‘can I?’ I responded staring right into the sun. I didn’t let go.

 ‘Never let go’ has been my strength; and but as it turns out to be, it is also my weakness. It feels like that frog sitting in gradually warming water.

I accept the challenge without realizing I may be nearing the extreme. It does not let me balance.

Let go..

Guess it is an art, not an easy one to master.

‘Let go’ means we let go what we ever dreamed of, what we ever got our emotions attached to. It takes a lot of mental strength to ‘let go’ without keeping any grudge or negativity. For people, who ‘don’t let go’, it can be way more difficult than I may describe. It may feel like giving up or contradicting ourselves, bit hypocritical sometimes.

But I have had few moments of ‘let go’. For all the inner conflicts they caused, the outcome of ‘let go’ has been sheer peace. At times, it plays out like childhood, like we ask for something; if we get that we are happy, otherwise too, we aren’t too sad, and enjoy what comes next.

‘Don’t let go’ is a necessary evil. ‘Let go’ is an optional bliss.

But if happiness is our final destination and right balance is the prerequisite, ‘let go’ is not optional anymore. We must let go.

National Geographic

Life is calling !!

Around 1600 BC, an eruption of Santorini volcano formed volcanic ash that reached the Cretan shores and wiped off the Minoan civilization. Some debate that tsunamis were the real cause; but a civilization perished, a civilization that had attained maturity in almost all scales of societal, economic and military strength.

Sounds stupid or irrelevant, but a question comes ‘was their destruction completely predestined or it was retribution of their current or past deeds’?

Karma..

I find it difficult to believe that their deeds or Karma were solely (if at all) responsible. No child or an innocent person should ever meet an unfortunate end, if I had to believe in Karma.

Humankind has quietly gone through a number of such indiscriminate destructions, due to calamities or conflicts. And then of course, it has seen revivals, triumphs and heroes; some greats, and some fakes too.

These miseries and recoveries continue. A plane crashes; our loved ones pass away; without any basis of selection. ‘It is all pre-determined’ some of our elders say. ‘There is no differentiation on the basis of good or bad in this’. So both Mother Teresa and Princess Diana would become famous, even if one worked for others; and the other only for herself. And both would die in 1997.

An ongoing paradox..

Does God pre-decide all outcomes ? Or his decision (and thus the outcome) is his response to our choice or deeds?

If outcomes are pre-decided, then our choices would also have been pre-decided or inspired by God. We couldn't have chosen to do something else if we follow the theory of ‘pre-destined’ outcomes.

And if an outcome is God's response to our choice or deeds, no innocent would have ever lost his life, including the Minoan civilization.

Actually if God didn't know our choice, he wouldn't have known the outcome. Then he cannot be the God that we know of. God has to be omniscient, remember?

The lesser God..

Well, going with experiences of millions of people, one may still construe that God exists. Perhaps he sits in a timeless space (a tesseract may be), out of the time dimension, seeing our past and future all at once. He may not be able to stop calamities or conflicts. But he has been able to communicate to us, with his messages or signals.

His messages may not change our fate; but they suggest how to live and enjoy our lives. However it takes faith and patience to be able to receive those messages.

I believe in such ‘lesser’ God, because he fits better into the overall scheme of events from evolution and history better than the omniscient God.

Purpose..

My new God concurs that there is no point in seeking purpose of this life. None of the events of our past suggest any broader or wider purpose other than surviving the odds; natural or spawned of our own weaknesses.

Given that our fate is fixed for tomorrow or for next 500 million years, the choice of action is ours.

Our greatness lies in our ability to live well and enjoy life. That's our only connection to God for he continues to guide us on ‘how to live or enjoy this life’; if we could keep faith and patience to hear him. There is no further greatness to be reached. There is no higher purpose to be achieved.  

Pic by: Ajay Sudhanshu

A pinch of salt..

Yesterday Sher Khan got up in scaring-ly happy mood. I got apprehensive of whether that could be one of those days I am reminded of my miserly low income. But it was too late to cook an escape plan; doom fell on my Saturday. She had plans to go to Pavilion and Berjaya time square. All husbands in Malaysia know the torturous effects these two malls may bring to people like us.

We reached Berjaya around lunch time. We decided to have lunch before getting to the shop floors.

The food court was almost empty. It wasn’t too difficult to find a nice place to sit. Sher Khan ordered her favorite ‘tandoori chicken with naan’ at the curry shop right next to the entrance. Adi is fine eating anything vegetarian if you promise an ice-cream after that.

Everything was going fine. But the day had something in store.

“They haven’t cooked it properly. I think they have not put any salt in it”, Sher Khan kept the chicken back in her plate.

“They may have done this in hurry. Should I ask them to”, I was worried because she had hardly eaten the first piece. I looked at the counter.

The guy came quickly and apologized. We came to know that their regular cook had taken day off. They offered ‘Kadai chicken’ and Sher Khan accommodated with that.

After some time we left the table and stood at nearby ice-cream parlor. I noticed that the curry shop guys had cleaned everything but had left the plate of untouched ‘tandoori chicken’ and the basket of ‘naan’ (we could not finish all pieces) on the table.

I looked at them; and they just smiled.

And few minutes later, we saw a teenage boy went to the curry shop, spoke with the guys at counter; and then came back to our table and ate that chicken and naan !

Ashamed, we watched him eat. Sher Khan had her eyes filled. “He didn’t ask for salt”.

The girl at the ice-cream parlor spoke. “We at this food court, instead of throwing such untouched portion of the meal, leave that on the table or sometimes on a separate table. Any person can come and eat that”. She continued, “Several food-shops in Malaysia allow people to buy extra dinner for those who fast. So those who cannot afford may get free meal in evening to break their fasts during Ramadan”.

We returned after few hours of shopping. A number of thoughts came by. What if this was possible at restaurants and hotels in India; say not on all days but on festivals, or on special days like birthdays or anniversaries we could buy extra lunch and dinner for those can not afford. That could be managed over a take-away counter if space may be a constraint.

It sounds ridiculous in Indian context; so did the idea of suspended coffees; but for example Cafe 42, in Indiranagar, Bangalore does that.

A new government has taken over in India, a lot of new changes are being considered. I know there are many establishments in India who are already working in this area. What if we could write to the foods and public distribution minister of India to just propose such thought to all restaurants and hotels in India and see what may come out workable for both worlds ? I am going to try that.

And till that time, those who may like to celebrate their special days by giving something to those who really need may try these (and many more):

• In Malaysia (KL) - Agathians Shelter (http://www.agathians.org/)
• In India (Bangalore) – Sri Rakum (http://www.rakum.org/rakum_school/) 
• From anywhere - http://www.helpageindia.org/
• Sai Devotees - http://www.shirdisaitrust.org/index.php?pgid=240

God Bless.

A city with a heart !

For a place in the world..

Not sure whether this is some kind of a drift or an odd lack of abstinence; for past few days I wonder ‘what percentage of our lives we really control?'

Over the years, perhaps, I became too etiological; developed a tendency to look for a cause and solution for everything, to control all outcomes, almost negating the indeterminism of the events and of the people.

Most recent victim of my hysteria has been my son; as I started seeing my ‘another’ childhood in him. Out of love or fear; I tried to give him all inputs on what (I thought) works and what doesn’t. Just never knew when to stop and let him experiment. I almost controlled his thoughts and actions.

However things are changing lately; and obstinacy making way for acceptance.

Last Thursday, spoke with the girl from my first office, a girl who we all got attracted to because she giggled whenever she talked. But that day, she spoke in an uncharacteristic fraying voice; about four heart attacks she suffered recently. She held herself while she explained about her illness but my heart sank. She spoke as if she is living a borrowed life and all she wants next, is to talk to everyone she ever liked.

God willing, she is recovering. But since that time, I have done nothing but introspection. Have realized that none of us will ever be able to control what happens next in our lives. We all must accept, what in a manner we all are, destiny's children.

Like many of us, I couldn’t envisage what I do today; the cause of my next step has mostly been the result of the contiguous previous one. And with age, I knew there were too many variables that I could never have identified and accounted for. My best laid plans had to fail.

And then yesterday, found an old notepad while arranging the bags; one of those I have kept since high school days. Read some pages, smiled and then cried. Felt sorry to see my habit to control myself over the years. Wish I could somehow tell my ‘younger self’ that it was okay. Wish I could tell that kid to go for the guitar classes few more weeks; to follow that girl in blue ribbon to find out where she lived. Wish I could tell him that towards the end he won’t repent the things that didn't work out but the things he didn’t try.

Wish I could have tell him that merchant navy was not the only way he could see London. He too had a place in the world and all he needed was to keep that honesty in his dreams and deeds.

At the hindsight, I admit I had some dreams. Not all of them worked out, but I am happy I had them. They gave me the drive while destiny kept deciding my roads and destinations.

Guess it is time we leave our kids with their dreams, and with their experiments and do not control their lives injecting our apprehensions and controls. They are smarter and wiser than us; there is no reason why they won’t be any luckier. And if we managed to find a place in this world, they surely will, in the skies as well.

Pic by Ajay Sudhanshu

For God's sake..

Few years back in Bangalore, rats used to cut the wires of my car. After paying several visits and repairs at service centre, infuriated, one morning, I bought some rat poison and kept that inside the bonnet. By the very next day, the rats started dying.

 

It was a peculiar type of poison that would choke a rat’s breathing; they would come out to get air, but the poison would eventually stop their breathing and heart. The idea was appealing, since that will bring out the rats in air and kill, rather than let them die in some corner or under the bed or wardrobe to stink.

 

Issue got resolved. But there wasn't happiness thereafter. The sight of dying rats kept coming back. Later discussions with some of my friends gave various perspectives, and a bit of solace, for I kept looking for some kind of penance. Several years have gone by, but till today I haven't been able to outgrow that bad feeling, notwithstanding the righteousness of what I did.

 

I have learnt that something that doesn’t leave you with a good feeling is ‘bad’. On the other hand, something that leaves a good feeling is ‘good’. And if we do not resolve an issue in ‘good’ way, the hassle continues. This is not about whether our thought or action was justified or not, this is about realizing that there could be a ‘good’ or the better way, that we might have explored.

 

The point is, both the good and the bad invite reaction. If we haven’t chosen a ‘good’ way to solve the problem; it may not only continue the hassle but may also initiate a conflict, sooner or later, depending on when the receiver is able to recover and retaliate. Sometimes it triggers a chain of conflicts; and eventually people forget ‘who’ or ‘what’ started it. The two continue the struggle and in the end both suffer. This applies almost everywhere and to everyone, be at home, in office or the world outside. I guess whether we are able to solve an issue in ‘good’ way or not, defines our real strength.

 

Let us look at the tussle some societies and countries in the world are undergoing today. Behind every political unrest, economic crisis or so called holy wars, the root cause that comes out is a human weakness, the greed for power, place or pleasure. Our history is testimony of the fact that in the end there is no victor or victim. That leaves us with only one survival strategy; to invoke our strengths; to apply mass strengths against mass hysteria. If our weakness has started a conflict; it has to be one of our strengths that can stop or further avoid it; and that most often, is not our physical strength.

 

Trying to imagine what God must be thinking. Most of the religious books convey that the God is almighty and he upholds ‘good’. He gave us strength. He had to give us weaknesses too; else there was no meaning or relevance of strength. But we appear to have missed the point; instead of coming over weaknesses, we let ourselves go for the ‘bad’ or temporary solution, or come back to God to seek help. We pray for mercy if we’ve done something wrong; pray him for justice when we are wronged. Pray him when we are afraid, pray him when things aren’t working our way. God has become a matter of convenience, and that must be very frustrating to him.

 

Recently a friend told me, “I do not pray any God. I am a free thinker”.

 

Curious I did some reading on ‘free-thought’. It's astounding to see the number of people (particularly younger ones) adopting the ‘concept’ of free-thought and pansy, in various parts of the world. It is becoming clearer that if the God or religions continue to be misused, the next generation which is evidently smarter, wiser and abler than us, will simply disregard the concept of religion and God. And if we believe everything happens for a reason, this could very much be the God’s very own exit plan from our lives.

Guess the time has come when we all start taking 'good' decisions. If conflicts are inevitable, we must invoke our inner strengths to resolve them.

Let us teach our kids the essence of all religions. It will help them take the ‘good’ or right decisions when times come; and it may also avoid the unnecessary confusion, some people create, in the name of religion. It may also stop the dislike or disregard our younger generation is showing towards the God and religion.

Let us begin with our homes, let us try at least...for God’s sake ?

The Alter Ego..

Pic by Ajay Sudhanshu

“Tell me the name of the person you wish to be like”, asked John Williams. “You may also share why but that’s optional”.

“Al Gore”. I replied. “He is one of those who have taken up the fight against common human greed”.

We were attending a workshop conducted by John Williams, the principal and founder of an Australian consulting firm called JHW Pty Ltd. After replying I sat down, thinking whether it was necessary to share the why. It came out of spontaneity as I have been impressed with Al Gore’s contribution and the purpose he carries in life. Of course some of the participants immediately gave me that 'wtf ' look.

Today we justify our actions only on a profit scale, and that too on the immediate profit. If there is no profit, any thought or action in any direction is considered waste of time and energy. Greed is justified and charity is a bad word. Resources or human resources, have to be exploited as their use may not be profitable enough; and just say to the world we leverage them, let people guess the meaning and intention.

A profession, to my understanding, was guided by method. I grew up thinking that teaching, consulting, medical, legal practices etc. are professions (guided by method) and not businesses (guided by result). Once I shouted at a friend who said sex is world's oldest profession and lectured him on not to confuse a trade with profession.

But over the years, the connotations have changed. We have changed. Despite we all aspired to be guided by method, someone's greed took over and made us all guided by result. Interestingly, at many occasions, it was our greed only that made us what we are; and not what we wanted to be. Today many of us have a split personality.

We like cost cutting in organizations where we are a shareholder, promoter or owner; but not in the organizations where we are employed. Till the time we are not impacted (as employees or otherwise), we prefer talking about profits, not about who may suffer; and so do the people who we consider responsible for global warming, terrorism, etc.

I like Al Gore because he is undeterred in his fight. Recent devastation at Kedarnath Dham has almost sunk my heart. Only those who've ever come to Kedarnath know how beautiful this place is or was.

Ancient Evenings and Distant Music

It is time, we bring method in our approach towards an end. I have taken that road and it is my personal performance criteria to keep the method alive. Our shadows also won't stay behind.


Pic by Bhawani

Little bit of Monica..

On 4th April afternoon, we reached Pangkor Island, a relatively quiet place in the north-west coast of peninsular Malaysia. And it came out to be my most relaxing weekend of recent times.

We were off-season guests; and the guys at reception took additional care to explain the options and availabilities. I kept nodding for half-an-hour they talked; while Kuhoo and Adi romped around the place.

The chalets with the back drop of densely forested hills attracted me. But my water-addict better-half, had an eye of sea-facing ones. The resort appeared quiet and restful. Finally I agreed to take the sea-view chalet and we followed our sprinting porter.

Within minutes we reached our unit, and stopped, as we heard our neighbors greeting us (almost shouting). There were two Croatian girls. One of them wore a towel and the second some kind of beachwear.

“Now I understand why you agreed to take the sea-view chalet”.

“Nooooo… It’s just that I am lucky today”, I said with a smirk. “I don’t mind this view too”.

Our chalets stood in arched fashion with dense forest and hills behind. Our verandah almost touched theirs. They were drinking and sun-bathing. Through-out the day, they kept shifting their chairs in front of us. The only way to avoid seeing them was to close our eyes, which of course, I couldn’t.

By evening Kuhoo got bit skeptic. She found them drinking all the day and talking to everyone who passed by. The risk was, her husband for last ten years may get infatuated and they, disregarding all those semi-naked studs on the beach, will fall for her fat, bald and old husband.

“They don’t look nice”.

“Don’t worry. I barely look tolerable”. But that wasn’t enough.

“In India, no one will approve such behavior”.

“Yes. But they may be friendly by nature. Why judge them?” I wasn’t sure whether she was complaining about those girls or India.

We went to the beach and sat. I told her about one such ‘friendly by nature’ person; whose appearance or behavior may be misleading at times; but they are as truthful as we try to be. I told her about Monica.

In May, 2007, I traveled to Sydney to conduct a training course. The participants were a small team of 8 HR officers; Monica was the newest to that group. It was a 3 days training course starting from 9th May; however our kind client had arranged the fly-back on Sunday, which gave me a free day on Saturday (12th May 2007).

Monica is second-generation Indian (father from Chandigarh), married to an Aussie. She is amazingly pretty and gregarious. Every day after the sessions she would insist to come along for food; talk about bollywood movies; crack silly jokes and laugh herself. At times, she would appear like she knew me for years.

On 12th May morning she came with me on for the Blue Mountains Day trip, around 60 km west from Sydney. We traveled through the lovely town of Leura and reached at 3 Sisters view-point in Jamison valley.

Monica shared the legend of the Katoomba tribe, about Lyre bird searching for the magic bone, etc. She talked like she wasn't heard for ages. And then she held my arm and asked, “Do you ever feel alone?”

“Why?” I wasn't prepared for such question.

“You don’t laugh too often”.

"Does that mean I feel lonely?" I tried to laugh and appeared more stupid.

She perhaps had made her point. “I feel alone. And therefore I laugh as much I can, even over silly things. And talking to people makes me feel better”.

“Monica, you hardly know me. How can you trust a stranger?”

“I trust myself. I think that’s more important. I felt if I come along, you won't feel alone. And you aren’t a stranger”.

I came back to hotel; laughing at my thoughts.

Around 8 pm while I was packing, the house-keeping guy came in and handed over an envelope. It had a couple of photographs Monica had taken during the day and two small pieces of Legos which didn’t fit each other. On the back of a photograph, handwritten was, “I enjoyed the day. I promise you friendship and expect the same, nothing more, and nothing less. Do well. Stay in touch”.

“Why did she send the Legos those didn’t fit?” asked Kuhoo.

“I think that said all. This is what I learnt of Lego-block philosophy of life from Monica. We all are parts of a big construction set. One which is good fit to you, need not be the best fit overall; actually you could be its only fit. So we shouldn’t conclude over any person based on our own fitment criteria. Remember all lego-blocks will eventually fit as per their shape and size. There is a rule of construction between us, and if that works, we may forget the rest”.

As evening fell further, we saw Adi playing in sand. The Croatian girls found more guys on beach, and I found my worrying baby back in arms. There is a little bit of Monica in her now.

The Second Chance..

“Buy one of these; I want to keep it”, I heard Adi pleading.

“No. They are dead. And these are not the type of fish you can keep as a pet”, Kuhoo explained while she tried hard to stop me from galloping past that fishmonger’s shop. She had caught sight of the ‘Rohu’ fish and I had caught that obnoxious smell.

Promising Kuhoo to buy ‘Rohu’ on our way back, I managed to move ahead, but my perseverance test followed.

“That fish has come from India ?

“May be.Yes”

“Like Nemo. Right ?”

I was thinking what to answer. Adi continued, “But it is dead now. If it had a second chance, it could have survived like Nemo”.

I spent next half an hour explaining him about the food-chain, about several things which aren’t exactly like what we see in movies etc. etc. And we bought vegetables on our way back.

Later in evening the point about ‘second chance’ returned.

“Papa, I will write this again. OK?” Adi looked at me.

I didn’t reply. Although I was a bit unhappy with his writing speed, I didn’t expect him to write it over again. I do get annoyed at times with the video games philosophy of second life, second time or second chance. I believe they have been somewhat spoiling the kids; as I hardly see them understand the importance of doing things first time right.

After an hour, Adi came back. He had written the whole chapter again; just to see me happy.

God I was happy. I explained him about examination, importance of practicing, and keeping focus during the exam hour etc. But I saw the place of second chance in my world, which not only established his writing ability but also his willingness to do better.

The second chance implies hope, optimism and readiness towards correction.

I can see why it exists in a kid’s mind, though I can’t see why it doesn’t in our minds. There are times we easily get caught by our obstinacy. Even when we realize that we may have made a mistake, an odd resistance within does not let us start over. We continue on the mistake until everything falls apart towards desolation. We just don’t give ourselves a second chance.

Interestingly in today’s adult life we find it very difficult to even realize our mistake. But the second chance doesn’t necessarily relate to the mistakes only we make. It also applies to our response to others mistake. Is it hard to forgive and give someone a second chance? Does that change our righteousness?

Perhaps the heaviest thing we carry in our lives is grudge. Absolving ourselves is as important as absolving others. There is no point carrying such burden. There are multitude of perspectives and preferences that have actually contributed to a complicated society today. So even a right step may only be relatively right.

Pic by Ravi Garg

At least once in our lifetime, we all have been prisoners of our love, hatred and prejudices. And I do not see world becoming any simpler. There will always be one who will let you down, one who will break your heart, one who won’t come back.

So why not live life without regrets? Why not give ourselves a second chance?

The last pretense..

It was a quiet evening. I sat with Kuhoo after a long day. We talked occasionally, for the most of evenings with her, words aren’t required.

“Why get ahead of ourselves? Let us stay simple and see things as they come” Kuhoo spoke.

“I agree, though it’s been difficult to resist the drag. People around try to show what they are not; talk about things they hardly know; and do things they seldom understand”, I said.

The muse continued. I remembered the days in my kindergarten school. On one of these days in winter I felt lost in the crowd and I did my first experiment.

“My pandali kite cut ten kites yesterday evening”, I said and looked into Nikki’s eyes.

“Ten”? Nikki looked astounded.

By next day Kanu, Chandan, Soni, Hemlatha, Kaushik and many others in my class knew that I cut ten kites. Something stopped me from telling Nikki later that I could never really fly a kite. She never thought I could be lying; I never thought I could become famous.

For few days I lived a facebook life, empty inside and ostentatious outside.

Finally one day I saw my classmates gathered around Kaushik. “I cut twelve kites yesterday”, I heard him saying with all the confidence he could muster at that age.

I knew he was lying. I knew his uncle had cut those kites because Kaushik resided only next to my house. And I knew Kaushik couldn’t even fly a kite without his uncle’s help. But I kept quiet as I realized Kaushik, for the same reason I knew, would also know that I was lying few days before.

I also realized even though my experiment was successful, I had failed.

I grew up reading people around, met many other actors; better actors than me and Kaushik with newer ideas and more resounding explanations. But they could never escape me.

Later in class 10, I read ‘akhbar mein naam’, a story by famous hindi writer Yashpal. I realized that the world recognizes that ‘akhbar mein naam’ perspective. I absolved myself and moved on.

After a number of years, lately I feel amused seeing a large number of people like me around me. The desperation continues, and their virtual worlds appear to have taken over them; they look so artificial.

In that facebook world, there is no clash of opinion, no lack of money, no trace of mediocrity and no truth. It’s the world we have projected about ourselves to perhaps show what we are not, what we miss and what we wish.

In the actual world our opinions are flawed, our relations fading, our accounts depleting and we see limitations. But this is the only place where we will eventually find the real happiness, that real love and our place in the world.

It’s not that I have found it, but I know I am directionally right. The first pretense happened within me, so will be the reprisal or the last pretense..