The Tale of Two Legends

Almost 11 years ago at Sharjah when Sachin Tendulkar whipped the ball past square leg to author the Part -1 of the Desert Storm epic , the excited Richie Benaud cooed in the commentary box “That’s his hundred….issh-teering India to a plaish in the finals, Wonderfoool Innigssh”. Not only India but entire world stood up to recognize the legend of Tendulkar had arrived. More than a share of the epic’s credit goes to the opponent he was playing against – The Australians at their very best and the battle within the war with the Wizard of Oz – Shane Warne. For the fascinating characters in a story makes an intriguing read. And by no measures that epic was short of mythological characters on which children stories thrive - A proud, powerful Roman dynasty against a bunch of Gaul villagers led by Asterix.

11 years hence, not even a single passionate Indian cricket follower, with even god gifted prophesying power, would have predicted that one day half of India would root for the vanquished proud Knight of 1998 Sharjah epic and wish that their very own Asterix – Sachin- be beaten in flight of that legendary top spinner, or ripping leg break and loose the battle of two greatest magicians the cricketing world has ever seen. The plot was still the same – A powerful dynasty against the bunch of rustic villagers – however, the roles were swapped. The twinkled eyed Warne leading the bunch of no hopers. And with no strange coincidence the ending was as mythical as in 1998- The underdogs usurping the carpet underneath the ruler.

What Warne meant to world cricket is evident, even today, the moment he sets his feet on the cricket field. Ali, Becker, Jordan and Sachin had that aura when they set adrenaline pumping in sporting arena. Warne doesn’t stop with the adrenaline rush, he intoxicates and hypnotizes you. The Hollywood-ian aura embodying sense of awe, passion , excitement, action, manipulation all bundled into one body with a twitch of vulnerability and bubbling optimism. Watching Warne on cricket field is almost like reading through the great gambler’s mind in a Vegas casino. He likes to play blind but with the unraveling strategy and quantum physicist mind which is almost impossible to preempt. He thrives when he knows he has one trump card in his hand against the set of Jacks and Aces in the hands of his opposition. Invariably he drives the game from onset and befuddles stunned opposition converting his crappers into trumps. More often than not he wins the battle of wits for he reads the game so well that he is always predicting three-four moves well in advance like a seasoned chess player.

What this year’s IPL has brought forth so far was distinct line of demarcation between International class players against the domestic novices. Today it defined another thin line – One between mere Greats against the Legends of the game. Between 6th to 13th over of the return leg IPL match between Mumbai and Rajasthan, Tendulkar, Jayasuriya and Warne were the protagonists of the Act. However the great Jayasuriya almost faded in the shadow of the two legends Warne and Tendulkar as if he was playing a sidekick to the contest between the two heavyweights. It was a Clint Eastwood versus Amitabh Bacchhan stuff with Aamir Khan playing a sidekick.

As it happens with the action packed movies the sidekick was consumed with consummate ease by Warne to refocus the plot on the original battle. The first delivery from Warne to Tendulkar was a loopy leg spin pitched on middle and leg which was played with deft wrists. Slowly but surely Warne drew Tendulkar forward floating one further up. And as has been the great batting maestro’s exploit in 90s, this time too he accepted the invitation and with nimble foot moved inside out to lift one over extra cover boundary – Pressure released. Rather than the battle it was the artistry at its very best from two champion Mozarts of the last two decades performing a jugal bandi.

Vintage Tendulkar threatened to thrash the mere cricketers and mortals in opposition to pulp when one last time the magician came back to perform his Impedimenta spell., Sachin responed with Confundus charm. The wily top spinner pitched on off held its line and beat Sachin on flight as he crouched to sweep one behind square. Warne knew the spell had worked as he stretched his hand to lend out the war cry. As slowly the umpire’s finger was raised, the changing times enraged the similar emotions of Asterix vanquishing the Romans – Only difference was 11 years down the line Warnie is playing the role of Asterix.

Gob smacked…Mesmerized….Enthralled.

Wow!!!..what a way to come back to my posts!!

This had to be one heck of a day…Tired…exhausted and almost drained out, I sit by the window side of 95th Floor building at Taipei 101 to type about one of the most enthralling performances I had witnessed just an hour back. Among plentiful of opportunities that NUS has kept providing me over the two year period, this has to go down as one of the best…probably at the apogee of my excitement level.

The Global Business Conference at Taipei was something I had been waiting for weeks now. But what I didn’t anticipate was the kind of reception and pleasant surprises it had in store. Sitting amidst the cognitive elite of best of the best business school brains around the world, I for once am awestruck with the kind of ideas and opportunities bouncing off during the brainstorming session. But hang on…this post is not about any skills on Leadership or Management opportunities that I came across in a day long event – This is about the Traditional Chinese Opera- An hour long performance towards the end of the day which simply blew away the intense atmosphere of the day; leaving us gobsmacked, mesmerized, enthralled and spell bound.



I have a pretty doubtful mind when the word Opera rings in my ear drum. Somehow I visualize Shakespeare doling out his woeful ballads at snail’s pace amidst stiffed-upper-lipped-sophisticated ambience. Probably an ideal place to take your girl friend –if you have one – where she sheds tear and you shed dollars for those tears. With the similar kind of impression when I entered the performance centre, I was surprised to see a bright, sanguine atmosphere on the stage rather than doleful, gloomy background that I anticipated. On the one corner of the stage, the artists dressed in most colorful and glossy costumes greeting us with those innocuos smiles. Till that I point I didnt have slightest of idea of what was about to come.

Just to give a brief snapshot of the theme of the performance. This one was conducted by National Fu-shin troupe , a renowned Chinese Opera troupe of National Traditional performing Arts. Well, the story goes something like a fairy tale between a sea creature – probably a gelly fish, who impersonates herself as a beautiful damsel, and a young man from nearby hamlet. The impersonated sea creature sets up an enthralling romantic encounter with the young man on a Rainbow bridge. And when the young man wants to marry this sea creature, heaven breaks loose – literally and actually- as this is against the rules of the nature. The king of heaven – the Jade Emperor - sends across scores and fleet of soldiers to capture this sea creature. The sea creature gives her life saving pearl as a token of love. When defeated, this pearl converts into an elixir and defeats the forces from the heaven.

A simplistic story garnished with incredible martial art performance, breathtaking out fit, jaw dropping traditional somersault dance and topped up with mid air-kicking, weapon juggling and tossing with artistic finesse and incredible synchronization. In a stage size of 20 X 20 ft, holding a battalion of troupe without seemingly getting crowded, where every single movement of the performance was in resonance to the drum beats and traditional Chinese folk song. To fill in the interludes , repeated audience’s exclamatory response during the performance personified the grip, the troupe had, on every single soul witnessing the performance. The magnanimity of the performance infused such an infectious warm response among the delegates that we all stood up and gave a standing ovation and never-ending applause after the performance.

As I am typing the final few words...those reverberating beats and melodious symphony still ringing in my ear - Of course romanticizing is the last word that I know in English Dictionary - so you bet where I am coming from.

Time to sleep as I wait for another day in anticipation….and yes talking of bouncing off the ideas…a small piece of thought for you to ponder upon- Confucius style of leadership wasn’t much different from preachings across the border from our very own Kautiliya. That interesting dawning perspective I leave for tomorrow’s musing.

Cheers!

What it Required to Resume my Scribblings…..

I know…I know….I betrayed most of you bunch of faithful readers who were expecting my next post from the high walls of NUS. Thursday Child, Mansee and few Anonymous-es due apologies for letting down you loyalists who believed I could write!!

Well it didn’t take short of a Mesmerizing, Amazing, Once in a Lifetime experience of watching the IPL final, along with a persuasive reading of Aamir Khan’s blog and also comfort of getting back to the closed confines of the office cubicle to propell me to shoot off straight from my key board. I had stated in my one of the writings that I write only when I feel strongly passionate about something around me. Perhaps today is the day when words haven’t stopped flowing.

Admittedly NUS MBA life has nothing to do with my long long hibernation….in spite of so much hype/aura created before you enter a B School about the time or lack of it…and the added responsibility of heading the Student Council, I never had dearth of time to catch sleep, to watch a cricket match on my favorite Sopcast and yes to indulge in bakwaas chit chat.

But first thing first – THE IPL FINAL!!!!..Yes Sir…I came…I saw and I was overwhelmed!!!...One of my biggest dreams has been watching a Cricket Match featuring India at MCG, at Lords and at Eden Gardens. Well IPL final if not superseded that expectation atleast matched my anticipation. And yes Aamir Khan too scribbled in his blog that he was there at the Stadium getting mesmerized by Sachin’s instincts and hunch to predict deliveries beforehand. Unfortunately he didn’t sit next to me else he would have been smittened by my comprehension of the game!!...Be it my predictions of Balaji about to bowl short one of the last delivery or Warnie putting a deep extra cover as soon as Dhoni walks in to bat or for that matter Sohail Tanvir’s about to bowl low indipper of penultimate ball of the innings…all predictions were bang on!! That too without playing a single International match!!!...Hope Aamir books his seat next to me in advance for the next match which we watch together.:-)….

Cricket is only thing in my life of which I am cocky and bullish about my and my stocks have never betrayed me!!!:-)

For almost hour and a half I was hooked to my seat with bloated eyes, grasping the atmosphere, soaking the ambience…drooling at the site of the ground…and trying to catch a glimpse of Sunny Gavaskar, Ravi Shastri and yes Shane Warne…The heavy aussie accented words of Bill Lawry were ringing in my ears…”It’s All Happening Out Here…Dear” and I could anticipate Ravi Shastri oozing with delight in Commentary Box suggesting to viewers ”The Atmosphere is absolutely Electric!!” ….

Leave aside superlative Laser Show, Acrobatic Feats and Bollywood remixes for the starters…the thing that send made me go bananas was Salman Khan’s grand entry on stage…Boy!!..He is a Superstar!!...A real Superstar and a hunk with perfect attitude and stage presence…Now I realize why these Superstars deserve to be seen on 70 mm screen…

The cracker of a match, albeit slightly ended on a disappointing note as Chennai Superkings were edged out, filled my appetite. The sumptuous delight of seeing of some of the greatest cricketers in flesh and blood from the stands near the midwicket/deep third man fence is still running through my veins. I am rushing off the stadium to jot down one memorable piece for my blog….

26 Years of wait was worth the Gold!! And yes the internship in Mumbai will always be remembered for this One Silver Lining :)…

Hopefully in coming posts I would narrate down the Harry Pottersque journey at NUS so far!!

Life @ NUS MBA – 2

Gosh!!! At last I found some time to unwind after frenetic first week of intensive module. The Late nights or in fact no night sleep has begun and the droopy eyes yearn for an extra half hour sleep. “Catch me if you can!!!” that’s how The Sleep is mocking at my face. However, it can’t deter me to pen down my weekly post.

The Unique Cohort
Entire cultural globe is sitting with you in the class- You name a region in the world and you have an opinion on that. Welcome to International MBA. Think of diversity and “Abundant” is the word that comes to my mind. Other day I was sitting in "Management in Organization" class when there was an interesting discussion going around about the cultural clash in an organization. Incidentally, the MBA classes are better than the drowsy lectures of undergraduate days. Coming back to the cultural clash topic, it was interesting to know that Spanish people hate Norwegian by the tip of their nose. Corruption is the issue not only deep rooted in India system but it’s equally rampant in China, Korea, Indonesia and Thailand. Koreans don’t like foreign goods flooding their market. And yes George W. Bush consistently ranks first, across all countries, as the Most Hated Statesman of modern era.

Talking of the distinct characteristics of student, the Chinese and ASEAN students appear to be most humble, hard working and sincere in entire cohort. I wonder how India can be at political conflict with such soft spoken Chinese people. May be I am just skimming the surface of an unknown culture. The humane intent and values seem to hold more distinct proposition as you travel further east of Greenwich. Having said that, I have to admit Singaporean food isn’t as nice as people around here are. Every day when I coax through a bite of Singaporean cuisine, the words of Simba strikes my mind “ Slimy…. yet Satisfying!!”

However, when I think about Indians in the class, there was an anticipated fear which unfortunately proved to be true. Like other B schools in India here too you don’t form personal relationship, you only create professional leverages for yourself. I sense there is a serious gulf that surrounds people pursuing MBA. They wear a mythical veil around them to disguise their real persona.There is a fear gripping the mindset of the people, if you reveal yourself a bit extra, you might loose the race for that “Unknown” apogee. May be with maturity, people become increasingly suspicious about human presence around them. You don’t want to be stranded companionless, yet you don’t want anyone to come too close to you either. I had heard this refrain from my friends studying in IIMs. I am experiencing this first hand here at NUS.

Perhaps my understanding of human psychology is slightly different but I cannot befriend anyone just because I can derive benefits and advantages from him/her. Neither can I shirk from someone because I have anticipated that he/she won’t be influential in my career objectives. Relationship isn’t a business model. For me it is striking wavelength at right time with right people. I need to be there when people are looking for support and yearn for company. Leave aside professional goals, I believe if I can become a better human being with a knack of understanding human compassion and psychology, my objective for MBA is fulfilled. Else I too will keep running in the race which doesn’t seem to have any culmination point. Do I need to be super special to imbibe these human qualities? I believe not.

Outbound Singapore
The first step towards breaking that proverbial ice amongst the cohort was taken in Outbound Singapore program- A two day excursion trip to an island. Team building activities had been staple practices in companies where I worked. It carried rewarding experiences; however, the effect seemed to diffuse out with time. This time around it was different- here your companion’s life was at stake.

Yes I am serious when I mentioned last few words- The life was at stake. Rock climbing is an art. It is more than just physical strength. It is having firm belief on yourself to conquer the mounting adversary and having belief that your mates down below hold the metaphorical thread of your life. I had never done rock climbing before and for first time my stamina was touching the threshold. Every single climb seemed a gigantic leap towards the top. I failed to conquer any of the targets. Yet there was excitement and adrenaline rush when you are perched 200 m above the ground level, dangling in thin air on a rope. What a start to MBA program!! I was wondering- Why I never thought of joining army? At least I would have experienced such exciting physical errand million times.

Orpheus – A unique set of leaders
During one of the intensive module classes, there was a video played about Orpheus, a Boston based rock band. This band is a topic of case studies across top B schools in the world. One of the Harvard professors noted a very interesting thing about Orpheus. This band doesn’t have a music conductor. Meaning there was no leader of the band. Still each member of the band has immaculate synergy and synchronization.

People reflect upon their working style as new form of leadership where each member has the privilege of been the leader of the troupe during the concert. Think of decentralizing power- Here is the prime example. Orpheus has been playing bands in business and executive meetings as an example of coherent combined leadership. Frictions and clash of opinions and ego do occur within the team , still the troupe put aside the differences and work towards creating symphony and melody.

To round off there was an interesting incident that happened to one of my Indonesian class mates. He has big time fascination about Indian culture and people. As per his own admission he knows only two things about India- Taj Mahal and Infosys. So one day he decided to increase his repertoire about Indian Diaspora by watching a Hindi Movie. What better way to start than with “Guru”. This is what you and I may think but not this mate of mine. He went to watch “Guru” because somebody, presumably, recommended him this movie as a super hit porn movie. Now this poor fellow waited and waited for three hours, enduring songs after songs, fancying Aishwaraya Rai in every forthcoming scene. But the real action never began. Dejected and despondent about the “quality” of Bollywood movie, he put his idea of understanding Indian Diaspora on shelf for a while

I don’t know whether 16 months is an ideal time to interact with every member of the 2007 cohort or to utilize oceanic resources that NUS has in its mysterious cauldron. For that matter will I ever be able to explore every nook and corner of this sprawling campus bearing an inviting aura to explore the treasure. Before coming to NUS, the questions often pricked my mind “Why NUS?”, "Have I chosen right path?". After coming here confidence brims over the conviction- “Why not NUS?”

By the way my Sorting hat has further confounded my leaky conundrum filled thought process. It says follow your heart and you will succeed in your vision- Management Consultancy vs Finance job. One Gryffindoer, the other Slytherin. But mind says- Wait and Watch.May be there is some ray of light shredding this ambiguity- I prefer to wait for time being.

LIFE @ NUS MBA – 1

To Singapore, my Hogwarts and my Matriculation day.

I am scribbling these lines cranked in between a weird Case study and a voluminous book to gulp down.

It has been almost a week since I landed in Singapore. Admittedly the last five days has passed in a wink of second. Welcome to the MBA program – Time waits for none, not for sure for MBA grads. Yet I don’t want to loose these times into oblivion because future, though unsure, yet appears to carry bucket full of surprises.



First thing first, Singapore as expected is amazing. When I say amazing, I mean every letter of A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. As you land on Changi Airport. Singapore welcomes you with an open arm and perhaps bountiful of goodies. No immigration hassles, no irritating custom officials and not at all those nagging tout taxi drivers outside the airport. Only place in the world where foreigners enjoy equal privileges to that of local resident. I was waiting for my “Meet the Greet” service personnel in airport lounge when I came across this interesting interview of the City Mayor on a local Television channel. One line that struck my thought waves was “With Freedom comes responsibility”. Outer perception suggests that authorities here in Singapore are autocratic. Singapore is fine because you are FINED for stupid reasons. However, discipline and social responsibility has been instilled in minds of local Singaporean to such an extent that it exudes in their mannerism in public place. If I break rules regularly, my offspring will assume the breaking of rule as a Rule. Democracy isn’t only about freedom and rights ,its about duties, obligations and responsibilities. The modern marvel that Singapore is – these words doesn’t seem to stick only to text books. In fact it exits here in physical form.


The wide roads and smooth traffic is so reminiscent of good old days in Chennai when I use to drive on my bike like free bird. Not a single cubic area did I find in Singapore where there was dust or pollution. And yes, how can I forget to mention the MRT link which is the lifeline of Singapore. A marvelous train network running across the length and breadth of Singapore with precision of a millisecond of the digital clock. I have heard that only millionaires can afford car in Singapore. The comfort of MRT presumably never allows the middle income group to instigate the fire of owning one for them. But and this one is important but, if you are a vegetarian, Singapore is not the place for you. In fact I struggled for two days to find a decent appetite for my shrinked tummy. There is a strange aroma that engulfs all the eateries that I moved around which kills my appetite. I am yearning for good , decent roti-sabji for days now.


I take a break from Singapore saga, for I have yet to explore the city to fullest. The subsequent posts will better justify my statement in previous paragraphs. For now, it’s over to my college- NUS Business School. NUS Business School is located in a sprawling campus with most modern facilities. You name it- They have it. My “Hogwarts” is indeed beautiful (By the way I am typing these lines from the comforts of my ultra modern MBA lounge). I had been waiting for my Matriculation day with similar anxiety as Harry Potter had about his first sorting night at Hogwarts. I was expecting my Dumbledore to come and unfold the arrays of magical enchantments one after another. And yes I was hopeful that my starving body will get some breather like the one Harry use to have on Halloween nights. My Dumbledore indeed came. So did Prof McGongall (leadership skills) , Snape(Finance & Accounting), Mad Eye Moody (Marketing ) , Fitwick( Management & Organization),Glideroy Lockhart(Business Policy) and yes Lupin (for the jinxed Corporate Strategy).

I expected the orientation to be dressing down session where all the profs would deliver threatening lecture about the core module. To my pleasant surprise, it turned out to be quite an amiable affair. Dumbledore was all praise for this cohort and his speech was warmest welcome that I must have received in similar occasion over the years. Truly, the faculty appreciated our maturity and treated us with respect. They never promised sky but never deterred us to chase the stars. There was a sense of sincerity in the words that Dumbledore spoke and perhaps in his wisdom lays my magical spells for next 16 months. The Sorting Hat on my head is dwindling with thoughts whether to follow my heart and passion- opt for Corporate Strategy- or choose more realistic path of Finance. Unlike Harry, it will take one full term to decide which path I follow- Gryffindoer or Slytherin.


Over past seven months since I first applied for NUS, I had been highly appreciative about the honesty and integrity with which people carry out business here. They never create unnecessary hassle and as they promised they delivered a perfect orientation. I hope I can justify their faith in me as one of the future ambassador of the college and head for Halloween to fill my empty stomach. :-)

One Last Hurrah

The dust is finally settling down across the Northern skies facing my cubicle. It's peach dark outside. Those retreating rains are still beating ferociously on the window panes- perhaps resonating with the emotions which exemplify my stay at Manhattan Associates. Today is my last day at Manhattan and I still yearn for more of those enticing moments that drove me every day to the office. I am sitting in my cubicle, scribbling down last few words before those IT people scoot off with my most prized possession, my desktop. Those riveting memories of year and a half are zooming from all quarters across my cerebrum.

Manhattan Associates, an office...Naaaaah....It was and it is an institution for me. I left my college with excitement in heart yet with apprehension about unfathomed corporate world. I departed from Cognizant with disillusioned mind and strong revulsion towards professional life. I am bidding adieu to Manhattan with sense of accomplishment, fulfillment and gratification with scores of amazing experiences. Just a while back I was browsing through the lines that I wrote about my first few days at Manhattan.
http://horacruxinmind.blogspot.com/2006/05/wish-affection-is-bestowed-not-by.html
Indeed, for a change my judgment wasn't wrong. There was something different about Manhattan that drove me to scribble those lines during the beginning of my tenure. And there is a mystic aura about it which holds me back today to sit and pen down one final epilogue.


What was it that made my innings a sweet cameo at Manhattan? Very hard to pick one instance; certainly there are many vying for top slot but the one which tops my list is the respect that I got as a professional and as human being. A while back I was reading series of interviews by JRD Tata. A discernible point that JRD made in his interviews, time and again, was the emphasis on human values and welfare of employees in running an organization. Nothing can replace human quotient in an organization- Not work, not even money. He believed in it and that's why Tatas are most revered industrialist in the country today. In modern times when invariably all organizations are humming the mantra of "Cut Cost, Make Profit" at drop of the hat, the respect for human entity is slowly loosing it's relevance in corporate world. An ideal case in point is tagging fellow employees as Resource. I treat it as insult on individual’s existence and sensibilities. I hate it big time- I don’t want to loose my identity in crowd where thousands are ready to replace me in wink of a second. Perhaps, one of the driving forces to leave my previous organization. I love every bit of "Corporate De-toxifiction" that I underwent in past year and half at Manhattan. I hope to pinch out every bit of inhuman ingredient that I have imbibed in coming two years.

The most striking aspect that evokes my mind about Manhattan is as soon as you enter the premise; there is Margret, our receptionist, greeting you with a beaming smile. After all it doesn’t cost you fortune to pass a warm compliment early in the day. Being a relatively small organization, Manhattan carries lot of positives. People in responsible positions know you first hand. You don’t expect any favor yet there is a comfort zone enveloping your conscious that if ever I need some one there are people to help me out. There are several big organizations making hypocritical statement of employee favored environment. I suspect how many of them actually implement it first hand. I find there is a gargantuan gap between what these companies’ CEOs say and what the company actually practices I have a point to put across to these organizations- An organization is like a tree. It depends on its gardeners whether they want it to be a Eucalyptus tree- tall in size, arrogance personified but bearing no fruits or a Banyan tree- Dense, leafy yet erected with grounded humility. Excuses will be plenty to sabotage such seemingly utopian theory, yet very few possess zeal required to make a positive difference amidst people around.

An individual's ownership to the company begins only when he has personal association with every single brick of the foundation. I loved my first day at Manhattan because my cubicle had my name engraved on it and my desktop wasn’t meant to be shared with others. It may sound trivial and frivolous .But I had come from an organization where the moment you finish your project there are bunch of people hovering around your cubicle like vultures, ready to pounce on your desktop and occupy your space- Metaphorically, you are rendered homeless for days. At Manhattan my cubicle bore my name in big bold letters "Adarsh Abhineet" my desktop had single ownership with user id “aabhineet”- I possessed it and I have carried the insignia with me. One of the fallouts of growing organization is lack of association in succeeding generation of employees. I believe more than anything else it’s because of unplanned, inorganic growth. True there are demands to be met but what about existing plate that you have in your hand. Why do organizations prefer loosing an experienced goose in favor of hundred Turks?

The team that I joined at Manhattan saw a swift transition from elderly statesmen governing the show to youthful tyros bringing in much needed exuberance, passion and charm. What drives a person to office everyday? Work- I think very few would pitch in for this. Money- A sizeable lot but with passion lasting as long as daffodils live. Great team mates with fun filled work environment- I loved it and looked forward to every morning to see those beautiful smiling faces again. After all who likes a gloomy boss with stiffed upper lipped, ears crammed between big headphones, team mates??? Ironically, when I joined Manhattan it took me almost four months to get along with my team mates. Presumably, I was too skeptical about corporate culture that I never wanted to metamorphose a professional relationship to a personal level. I just grin at the suggestion made by my team mates that initial perception about me was of a serious, no-nonsense person with limited aptitude for words in the mouth. I regret now why I lost four valuable months in allowing the hypothetical veil, surrounding my persona, to uncover. People make a place/group charming or hackneyed and gloomy for an individual. Negative vibes, cynical attitude will always try to overwhelm system. It’s the human spirit complemented by camaraderie that drives a team, a project and an organization. I experienced it first hand at Manhattan and I cherished every bit of it.



Ah! How can I miss out mentioning my love affair with office gymnasium when I refer to Manhattan!! It was the sanctum where I spent maximum time with myself, my thoughts and talked to my sub conscious. Every day the gym stored a challenge for me- 4.5 KM in 20 minutes of treadmill, 225 KCal of cardio, 15 Ibs of triceps, 20 lbs of chest and so on. I used to fail one day. Come back, with intense vigor the next morning to surmount my adversary. Failed again!! Perhaps, determination wasn’t there. Third morning the intensity was more severe, grit more concentrated and target was well and truly conquered. It was fight within me and I rejoiced every inch of victory that I achieved. Gym was my meditative centre. The freshness and vibrancy after workout invariably escorted me through out the day. At times gym was my second home. Every morning seemed painful getting out of comfort of the bed, yet discipline overruled lackadaisical attitude and a habit was well and truly engraved in my mind.


People often cite innumerable reasons to leave an organization. I believe as long as every morning presents itself with challenge to conquer an individual’s Intelligence Quotient and every evening has an incentive to trigger an individual’s Emotional Quotient to return to the work place next morning, issue of iteration will never cripple an organization. It’s hard to achieve, but definitely not impossible to comprehend. Manhattan has and will have issues and as the organization will grow, there will be unforeseen ailments posing serious obstacle. But as they say:

Sweet are the uses of adversity,which,
like a toad,though ugly and venomous,
wears yet a presious jewel in its head

For the moment, I sign off as the last drop of the rain trickles down the window. The journey has come to an end and new errand is in offing. After all I believe in fading away from the scene when people are still wondering “Why” before they pose the question “Why Not?”

A Tale of Two Cities- II

CITY CITY BANG BANG

In my previous blog, I had stated that Perceptions are indeed built on wrong foundation.
But what if perceptions overpower the reality and bring forth a disguised motif. The second half of tale of two cities is about my days in Bangalore.

It has been a year now since I physically “Bangalored” myself to the frenzy lifestyle of this once poetic tranquil locale. Never had revulsion been as strong against people and place as I had upon reaching Bangalore. From the land where people believed in conservative moderation, to the place where every spot seemed gloated with ostentatious display- A cultural shock had struck me big time.

How do I classify Bangalore- A hub of pampered riches or clumsy road links leading to chaotic traffic. Aah…Traffic!!..As I am typing these words I am struck amidst one of those endless queues of trendy cars, tattered trucks, nudging taxis and of course violent auto rickshaws. Rain is beating heavily on windshield of my office cab and I am mentally preparing myself for the timeless arduous drive back home. Somehow I never understood the logic. Why…why in the world did the city planner built a bus stand next to a traffic signal? Every time the traffic looks to move a big BMTC bus bumps into the way and thumps its chest, challenging the lowly cars, taxis and motor bikes. The short sightedness was never apparent as the one I see in the eyes of local authorities. Why these buses are blue, red and yellow in color? Why they are not Green? – Trivial aspects pricking my mindset. This was how I saw Bangalore with a biased vision.



Perhaps my disgust and dislike for Bangalore was more quantified when I found myself crammed in every single place where I went. There was not a single joint in the city where a people gave me a personal space. Every time where I stand or sit there was some one overlooking my shoulder or brushing aside. I started to hate driving. I thought twice before going to Landmark and scenes at restaurants or eateries always had a repulsive effect on my appetite. Claustrophobic was the word I realized in actual terms. Indeed India’s population has exploded in big way. Those wide roads of Chennai, tranquility of beaches and humility amongst people appeared to be distant memory. What is good in this city…I kept wondering and the search continued.

Where in the world was Pensioner’s Paradise?

But times change and so do perceptions crash- albeit it took tad longer this time round. The early chilly morning of autumn was greeted with those spirited voices of RJs in Radio City and Radio Mirchi. The ride to office was not that bad after all. Every morning those feet tapping music set the tone for the day. I had realized that I had shielded my eyes, my ears, my mind and my conscious in big way. These RJs are trying to spread a positive vibes amidst the chaos of the city yet I was refusing myself to yield. Am I really getting over critical about my surroundings?


Actually I did never possess an open mind when I set foot in this city. I was allowing the past to punctuate my present and over clouding my future. The best aspect about Bangalore that I was ignoring for a while was the discipline that I had inculcated in my life style. Not only professionally but in personal life- To beat odds and time I was utilizing my hours prudently and efficiently. Once I started accepting the people and the city, the picture started looking better. The best way to bond with a city is to befriend its people. My association with Chennai had deep roots because I had shared wonderful relationship with the people.


And here in Bangalore, I was blessed in company of people whom I treasure more than my life. Yet I was not attaching value to their association. At times I isolated myself from the people and lived in my own world. Loneliness breeds pessimism. Good times bring about positive mindset and feel good factor with it. Conquering the Goliath-sized challenges overshadowed all the nemesis that I had started associating with Bangalore. On hindsight when I look at this apogee of success, I realize how much this city has given to me. I came here with aspiring mind but in confused state. I am departing with clear mindset and definitely bag full of treasure.


Over period of time I have got used to demands that any growing city bears and the probable hiccups. Yet the striking aspect of Bangalore has been the buzz that you can hear wherever you go. Perhaps over-prosperous capitalism too is like hot egg- difficult to sustain. The office no longer looks gloomy and dull. I enter my dominion with enthusiasm and optimism. Who cares for those reviled traffic jams? Just check out some nice looking females in cars or bikes(incidentally in scarcity in Chennai) and move on when signal is Green. Landmark is crowded…What about Crosswords where people are there few and far between the aisles of books. And yes forget Bikes and Barrel of Chennai- 13th Floor here is awesome!! Looking for a long drive- just zoom through the roads of Mysore highway.

Its people that make a place good or bad- My realization was more conclusive when I visited Chennai this time round. Though I enjoyed my trip, I kept on missing Bangalore, its people, its traffic jams, its crowded malls, the people I left behind here, its temperate climate and yes the music on airwaves of Radio City.

A Tale of Two Cities - I

Ennkka Chennai Pudichirukku

Often perceptions and notions are built on wrong foundation. Sooner they crumble to pieces, better the rumble results into some rewarding experiences.

Last week I paid a visit to Chennai, the city I left a year back. I believe and I hope it shouldn’t be my last visit to this mystic place. I vividly remember my maiden trip to Chennai to kick start my professional career. Perhaps I never had a more skewed perception about the place, people and region before actually going there. The numerous “knowledgeable” North Indian experiences had created enough negative impression in my mind to suggest that I won’t survive in this hellish place for more than a month.

On hindsight I give a grin to myself when I recollect and still hear that Chennaites are most inhospitable, arrogant people with strong anti-North Indian sentiments. Chennai as it is known for two specialties- Inhumanely hot weather and saline water. And perhaps those innumerable sarcastic smiles from mates and relatives on hearing that I am going to live in land of idli, dosa and sambhar didn’t do my confidence a world of good.


What I saw in Chennai that destroyed this perception is hard to say. It didn’t happen overnight nor did everything go hunky-dory for two years in this southern land. As a typical North Indian would, I landed Chennai with an apprehensive mindset expecting to bump into some snob Tamilians who would kick me out of the place first day itself. Such was my inflated anxiety level that I tried to camouflage my appearance so that nobody recognizes me that I am a North Indian. On first day itself I yearned to hear any soul speaking a word in Hindi or a face resembling a fairer look, suggesting that he/she is a North Indian. The Vasantha Bhavans, Sarvana Bhavans and Udupi eateries displaying bare cupboard in terms of staple diet of Roti and North Indian curry. The great Indian cultural divide was standing in front of me- bare chested and challenging my EQ, IQ and TQ( Tolerance Quotient). I can’t live in this place…No Way!!!!

Things turned even sour when most of my college mates left Chennai after initial two months of training period. Sense of jubilation, relief and ecstasy were written all over their place before leaving Chennai. After all who wanted to stay in this cursed land - The cool Bangalore weather, trendy Pune, downtown Kolkata, and Northie city of south Hyderabad were calling them with open arms. I was left behind to curse my ill fate and fight out this hostile environment. My alienation towards Chennai and Tamil speaking people grew to height of revulsion and hatred. The hard to pronounce localities of Thiruvanmyur, Purusvakkam, Thoraipakkam looked like dungeons.

Soon I was down with serious viral fever. And for the first time I realized cultural barrier can never super impose human qualities. My landlady and her family who can hardly speak a word in English, forget Hindi, was sitting there by my bedside day in day out. Doing my medication and nursing me through my physical and emotional vulnerability. I doubt whether she would have taken care of her son any better than what she did to me. The seemingly snob Tamilians in my office, whom I never bothered to interact with, were there by my side providing support.

During this period when I had nothing much to do, except watching Tamil channels aired on Television, I started interacting with my elderly land lady through sign language. I was speaking in English/Hindi. She was communicating in Tamil. Yet somehow we were able to follow what the other is saying. Human faces and gesture say a lot than what they appear to. My inclination towards reading proved to be an ideal foil for I picked up some of the wonderful Tamil literatures translated in English.

The best thing to come out during this phase was my revulsion towards Chennai soothed down a bit. With chance of moving out of this place looked slim, I readied myself to accept the land and the people. Thankfully with three of my friends ( the protagonists of my past blog “The Legacy of A-1 Raagamallika”) joining in, life took a U turn in Chennai. The more I interacted with Tamilians, the more I started liking them. Perhaps what struck me most were their humility, subtle wit and association with cultural roots. Most of them who later on became very good friends and some best friends of mine are as chill as anybody would be. It’s not the place but the people who make the place good or bad. The fond memories of Chennai are more because I kept on meeting some really interesting people one after another.

Interestingly when I landed Chennai, I was told it is land of three sexes: Males, Non Males and Females (who form 0.01% of entire population). Though the refrain is racist and at times irreverent and flippant, yet it is true. However, for me female percentage had far greater number for I had discovered some real hot joints in the heart of the city- Stella Marris, Ethiraj College, Loyola College, Bikes and Barrels, Sathyam Theatre and definitely Tidel Park on Fridays to name a few. And after all I never lived amongst up market Delhi or Mumbai crowd to set too high standards for myself.:-)

Chennai exudes prosperity in every nook and corner. The so called cursed city is admittedly best governed places in India with minimum of hassles in day to day life, unlike in other metros and big towns. The magnanimity of the city is bestowed in its “Spectra” Wide beautiful roads, smooth traffic, life size billboards and beaches. One thing that always rekindles my memory when I think of Chennai is zooming on top of the Gemini flyover on my bike with huge billboards of MRF , Sun TV and Hindu overlooking you. Its awesome experience!! If Mumbai is known for its high rises then Chennai has to be city of flyovers. Then there was always a Landmark and spacious Coffee Day in Nungambakkam or Cenotaph Road to fall back to when I needed a change.

However, the best place to unwind is ECR road. I can’t imagine cruising on any other Indian roads above 120 Kmph. If day is hot and sultry, the evenings are always temperate and cool. Driving on roads running alongside the Indian Ocean and in company with couple of crazy friends, scooting off to Pondicherry for a booze by the beachside- Those struggling days in Chennai were a distant memory.

I always heard that Chennaites hold a fervent view against Hindi speaking people. Surprisingly I never found them so. On the contrary I being the only Hindi speaking individual in my projects was always made comfortable in meetings or general discussions. There always used to be bet on whether I am able to learn Tamil faster or my Tamil mates learn Hindi quicker. While I struggled with “Yenga Irruka” ,“Apdiyaah”, and “Saapda Pollamaah” , these guys started speaking fluent Hindi including those rustic Bihari lingo “Boojhe“, “Burbak“ et al.



How can I miss out mentioning Chennai without referring to Rajnikanth fanatics. If ever there is something called Idol Worship or treating Hero as a God, then it has to be Rajni fans. Incidentally I was there when mega block buster Chandramukhi was released and can’t imagine a far more frenzied crowd. The experience of watching a Rajni movie in theatre in itself is riveting with the magnitude of preparation going into making the occasion look like a festival. I pity likes of AB and SRK - Whether they would ever receive such adulation for their movies, I doubt.

Chennai has to be the cultural capital of India. I never imagined that I would hold such strong affiliation towards theatres and drama before going to Chennai. Perhaps arts and dance for me was best reserved for late night slots on Doordarshan which nobody care to watch. I realized people genuinely appreciate their traditional dance and music. They never considered these less glamorous cultural diasporas as un-cool and non fashionable. Even most modern lot would associate themselves to cultural events.

On my latest visit, I found the city has grown better and bigger. Those lanes, which used to be my hangout, have added gloss to it.-Specially one across Tidel Park. The Beasant Nagar beach though more crowded still remains the hottest joint and definitely my favorite Landmark in Nungambakkam still remains readers’ paradise. More flyovers are sprouting up. And yes people are getting ready for Rajnikanth’s latest flick Sivaji is going to release.

For me neither a person can ever be perfect nor is a place. However, just as I try to chaff out negative traits of a person, I have started picking up positives of a place. I can never quantify what Chennai gave to me and how its experience has evolved me as a person. But one thing is sure, from an honest North Indian heart I say - I loved my stay in hot, hotter, hottest Chennai!!

Sojourn Diary - I

March 2, 2007

I have just boarded a Bihar bound train. The quintessential, rustic ambience of a typical “Bihari” train is back. Even sitting in Air Conditioned coach I am sensing the warmth of the people around me. Somehow journey by flights has never caught my imagination. I always find it too cosmetic for my liking. The Air hostess or stewards never seem to effuse genuine warmth. People try to maintain a false air around them reaching a threshold of being Snooty and Snobbish. Though so far I have survived being claustrophobic, surely my resilience won’t last too long if I have to make frequent trips on Boeings.

The Air Conditioned coaches on train seem to replicate the flights but to a lesser extent. If given a choice and guarantee for a window seat, I always prefer traveling on 2nd tier sleeper coaches. The hustling chilly air that sizzles past your face when you peek out of the window gives that unbridled joy of freedom. For once even most cabined spirits and droopy eyes lit up when it encounters those violent gusts of winds sweeping across rice and paddy crops.



As the train enters periphery of Bihar dominion, the train trudges along lazily, at times crawling and meandering towards its destination.The sprawling virgin land embraces me with an open arm. The speed, or lackadaisical motion, of the train almost replicates the mood of the region and of the people. The sanguine sunshine fighting the dark smoky window of the coach lays forward an open invitation to bask in Spring Chilly morning. The vast wide fields, people giving you ample attention and ever slow moving cattle - I am back to my native place. Thank God!! That noisy metropolis crowd is a distant memory for time being. You love Bihar or you hate Bihar but you can never ignore my motherland.

March 8, 2007 ( Mid Afternoon – Evening)

Finally I got the window seat of 2nd tier coach of train bound for Lucknow. It has been ages since I set foot in North India. Ever since graduating from college, the mesmeric charm and affability of Southern India almost made me forget that there exist anything above Vindhyas. Before I scribble any further about skewed views that I carry about this Great Indian divide, I have to mention about my trip on a typical 2nd tier compartment.

A culture of nation couldn’t be better exemplified or rather seen in a better kaleidoscope than traveling in a railway compartment. Time hasnt changed since E.M Foster’s days when he wrote that masterpiece – A Passage to India. Even today any railway journey begins with minor squabble turned into ugly fight between co-passengers which in turn transforms into a strong amiable relationship even before train is half through its destination. The greatest virtue of forgiveness and tolerance is personified right in front of me. Just as the train reached a station, interestingly named Bettiah, few local passengers have boarded the train. The so called “ reserved” seats doesn’t hold any relevance if you travel in day time across Bihar or U.P. ( Admittedly I never mind that aspect, after all neither my butts are eight feet by six feet in size nor my waist size has exceeded gargantuan proportions). There is a feisty fight that has developed between the legitimate passengers and presumably some local heavyweight. But the skirmish doesn’t last even 10 minutes. Sanity is restored and both sides take their position with a grumpy face. The local heavyweight initiates the conversation and slowly the ice is broken. As the conversation unfolds and perspectives are understood, it turns out to be that both the legitimate passenger and the “encroacher” are relatives. Even Jack Robinson or Joe Bloggs could turn out to be your relative – This can happen only in an Indian train. The local heavyweight soon turns extremely benign creature, with apologies rendered from both sides and as mark of respect the “encroacher” touching the feet of the legitimate passenger before getting down in next station.

March 8, 2007(Evening – Past Midnight)

Even I have visited several places, those aroma and taste of Chiniya Badam( Fried Ground Nuts as common name) on a Bihar train lingers in my senses. Best of snacks cannot match the distinct sizzle that it sends through the taste bud especially if you complement the badams with a green chilly. To top it off, the unique voice mechanism that the vendors generate while selling this “Bihari” delicacy reverberates in my ears even days after I get over this journey. Perhaps the best marketing gimmick that I have ever seen is in Kiul Station in Bihar. There the vendors sell tea by announcing it is the “Worst Tea” he is serving. Yet customers are never hesitant to try this Kahraab Chai as it is called. Ironically if ever you have tasted the best of flavors in tea, this one would stand second to none.

The sun is setting in distant horizon as I leave the borders of Bihar and have entered U.P. I can sense slow deterioration in courtesy and affability of voice in vendors and passengers boarding the train. Call it my sketchy perception but the fact is as you move towards north of U.P. general mass seem to jettison their humility and reverence in oblivion. Somehow there is an overbearing and aggressive air surrounding their entity which is in distinct contrast to rustiness and humility of Eastern India.

I wind up my day’s chronicles with looming hand handedness of “Northies” lurking in my mind. Yet there is huge sense of excitement to meet old college friends dropping down from all parts of world in Lucknow and to attend marraige of one amongst us .It is nearing midnight I have reached Kingdom of Awadh – Lucknow.

March 9, 2007



Lucknow has changed a great deal since I visited this place nearly three years ago. The city has gone a distinct metamorphosis from semi urban to modern town. Those typical malls have sprouted in the heart of city whereas the regime has done cosmetic beautification more out of political gimmick than concern for local population. Yet the city looks beautiful in night. Best part about Lucknow is even there are modern buildings jotting famous Hazarat Ganj Chowk still you can find those old styled Tonga and rickshaw plying on main road- For a change I had an alternative to those honkings and wagglings of autorickshaw driver. The Old charm of city is still there. I took a packet of local moongfali(Another variety of ground nut) and set about strolling across the lanes of Ganj with my friend.

Taking a ride on an open rickshaw across the lanes of Lucknow is so reminiscent of Satyajeet Ray’s novel. There is no traffic jam (a relief if you are a Bangalorean), there is freshness about Spring Air and for a change you realize your pocket is not hurting at all while paying the fare. On one occasion I traveled some 10 km on local version of autorickshaw called Vikram and took out a 100 rupee note to pay the driver. My mindset was still gripped with that of metropolis town a la Bangalore/ Chennai/Hyderabad. It’s when the driver expressed is helplessness for charging 6 Rs on a 100 Rs note, I got back to my senses and realized in real India a 100 Rs note is still worth gold.

Traveling makes you wiser and aware about the world around you. Books can never transmit those unique perspectives that you can imbibe only when you see the real thing.
I wind up my day, awaiting for my batch mates who are slowly pouring in for a Class Reunion cum Marriage Function.

Of days of Introspection, Enlightenment and Self Exploration

I always believe that exams, hurdle, challenges in life enrich people. They contribute to the development of personality, temperament, attitude and next pinnacle. Lately, I had been through one such test where a completely different level of self introspection and revelation kept nettling my entity. This examination is very unique in every essence for it doesn’t last for hours, days or weeks. It’s going to stay and probe at my conscience each and every moment I exert my cerebral cells.

Another unique aspect of this test is I have freedom to consult, explore, search whomever, whatever I want ,in quest of right answer. And perhaps for the first time I realized the complexity of this test when I found out that not a single person, book or site could provide me an appropriate key to unlock this conundrum. The best they could do is to assist me in how I frame my answer. But the disturbing part remained intact – where do I get the right content?

The questions are very short and simple. What defines you the best? What matters most to you in your life? How do you see your future? What measures you can take to meet your dreams? What changes would you like to see in yourself?


At first look, these questions looked a stroll in park. Just as I normally do with my blogs, I thought for a moment while scanning the blank pages of WordPad and set about typing ideas that floated my right cerebrum at that instant. However, after couple of hours or so, nothing came that matched close to the most definitive answer. With every thought, there were dozens of contradicting thoughts questioning my knowledge about “Myself”.
I brushed it aside, attributing it to lack of right mood and ideas at that moment and left it for another day.

Next day I again sat in front of monitor, this time probably with fresh mind and clear target. As I gazed through the first question – “What defines you the best?” –Once more a set of ambiguous thoughts crippled further flow of any concrete motifs. It was my nonchalant attitude that took precedence and I attributed my conspicuous failure to lack of right ambience for getting clear idea about myself. I still wasn’t ready to take a dive into my deepest pool of self-knowledge

Third day wasn’t any different either. I was still stuck in the quagmire of provoking questions that slowly engulfed my mindset. How can I ignore myself to such a long period that I have absolutely no idea who I am? Perhaps, I need to give it a break and come back with new mindset. Probably I am pondering way too much, that’s why I am not getting the right answers. In desperation, for first time, I completely stopped doing what I felt so much passionate about – Writing, writing what was there in my mind. I was not at all ready to accept the fact that there indeed was something missing in my way of thinking that needed to be addressed. Though the questions kept pricking at the back of my mind, I remained in illusion that somehow I will lay my hand on an elixir or genie like something which will give me a definitive answer.

After ten days break when I sat in front of the monitor, these questions remained brazenly intact,posing as they were on the first day, challenging my very existence. There wasn’t a clue in near vicinity to unscramble these supposedly innocuous puzzles. It was time for me to react – however, still long way from act with purpose.In wild frenzy, I set about searching Google, Yahoo, Amazon to find the right answers. Each book in my small library was rummaged around in pursuit to get the solution – Yet I continued to fail.

The last resort was to go back to my best counselors – Autobiographies of people I admire. I just wanted to know whether it’s only me who is stuck in such horrible mess, unclear about his very self. Fortunately, there was a semblance of hope and a slight satisfaction when I discovered that each and every human being goes through such phases of self query. Many brush it aside, some think for it for a while and move on and very few actually work on it and go on to become cut above the rest
I don’t want to put myself in first two groups
This was probably the first convincing thought that came in my mind after days of confusion, self doubt and mental confabulation

The next step was I needed to put thought into action – How do I avoid myself getting clubbed into the first two groups? And that was the entry key to this whole maze, which now looked more complex than Einstein’s theory of relativity or Maxwell’s thermodynamics equation. I find some how great people do wonderful service to the society by imparting their knowledge in whatever form they can in form of autobiographies, speeches or other communicative forms. I believe, such modus communico can inspire rest all individuals to think differently so that they can make the life around them glittering. However at that moment, my immediate task was to stop thinking about how others are going to be affected, first I needed to unravel the mystery about myself.

I started with my own question – Why do my friends, colleagues and relatives want to have relationship with me? I came up with a list of facets about myself that could have probably set the tune in their mind. The next question followed – Would they have easily found a replacement had I not been there? I discovered the list now grew shorter yet there were few distinct traits that nobody could replace mine. And rightly so, these facets defined me the best. I was close to solving my first puzzle…..

The Day when Mother Destiny gave me a pleasant surprise

I have often believed that I can be anything in this world but a lucky person. If I have five minutes to catch a train and chances are at even Stevens of whether I would board the train, either the train would be before time or something impeding will happen that will spoil my pursuit. Over past 17-18 years of my academic life, the topics which I use to leave out during examinations inevitably used to prove a stumbling block in my final result. More trivial the series of events that veiled my tryst with Lady Luck, more stubborn my views would become that I am not a Destiny’s Child. Of late even the change in traffic signal from Green to Red, just as I am about to clinch that metaphorical Chequered Flag by crossing the signal, makes me grumble continuously on my ill fated luck – I am destined to miss out.

Such has been my maniac obsession with luck, or lack of it, that I never bestow good wishes to anyone who is undertaking any auspicious errand. I fear that if I do so my Anti Luck Syndrome would metamorphose my good wishes into ill fate for that person. Those hackneyed jibes that ‘I am maker of my destiny’ were used as a solace to make me feel comfortable. However, at times, life provides even a destitute with royal treat or for that matter a Mendicant too on occasions have surplus in his kitty to give away to the likes of rich and noble. Such reversal of fortune didn’t elude me for too long.

It all happened on a typical Friday office day during my stint at Cognizant. Somehow Fridays often carry an air of freshness, freedom, festivity and laid back attitude which keeps the dull and droopy slogging spirits quite high. That day the entire Industrial sub vertical of Manufacturing Logistics Unit were supposed to gather in main campus for the Town Hall Meeting. Usually these Town Hall meetings are drag and enormously boring. The Senior Project Manager keeps on chanting about the great contributions that we had made to the Vertical and Company en large. It’s only that day that you realize that checking/sending mails and surfing net is so valuable to Company’s profit. Normally, if given option I would prefer catching a nap on one of those bean bags or suthifying around the office campus than attending those Town Hall Meetings. However, In your formative years as a professional, you hardly have a say in what you should do and what not – so did I.

I always prefer farthest corner of the last row of the Hall, where associates conglomerated for the meeting. That day was no different; I picked up the safest spot where I could be away from provoking eyes of my superiors. My pranking antennae often are at 90 degree angle during such meetings. Something within me itches to create an out of ordinary incident so that I can draw everybody’s attention. Over period of time my teammates-cum- great pals too started picking up the sensory signals about my intentions. One of my protégé – if you can call him- and real good friend Karthik started to venture on those un-traversed alleys of bending the rules under my guidance.

The Town Hall Meeting started with our senior manager reciting those self congratulatory lines for umpteenth time. He kept on quoting those nebular facts and figures which somehow proved that indeed the team had achieved the pinnacle of success. For me, ground reality was completely different – that’s different story. I always read in books that you cannot fool all the people all the time. But somehow this unspoken rule never hold true for the clients. They kept getting fooled and milked without even realizing it. Anyways, so the achievements of fooling the client brazenly continued and so did my patience ran out.

I pricked Karthik’s devoted attention which imbibed each and every word that our SPM mouthed. He turned around sensing some weird though brewing up between my ears. It was Friday and I didn’t want to miss out the opportunity of ogling on few females who look remarkably gorgeous and completely different when they shed those formal dresses to Friday casuals. Probability of catching them at cafeteria was quite high as somehow they too know that their unknown fans and courtiers are just stone throw distance away. Definitely a cup of coffee would always complement the soothing sight that we use to behold.
“I had enough of those lectures…let’s scoot off to cafeteria. We can catch up with some hot stuffs!!” I whispered in Karthik’s ear.
His stern look with half smile and half grumpy face revealed his bewilderment and reluctance on my plan. A definite ‘No’ was on cards and that’s what I expected. But somehow, I believe, he too ran out of patience and gave an affirmative nod to my deal.

We decided to slowly scamper out of rear gate without pricking anybody’s attention. My plan always had a back up for I never believed in ‘Jumping and then looking Around’; always ‘Look around before you Jump’. I instructed another team mate of mine to send any warning SMS in case the situation gets messy. (God bless those inventors of SMS). We slowly trudged towards the rear gate.

“Now the time for annual prize distribution ceremony for outstanding contribution…”

The voice echoed at back of my nonchalant ears. One thing is for sure prize distribution ceremony is the last place where I find myself in coherence. I guess my life long achievements never synchronized with the judges who give away prizes, so a la Aamir Khan I too call it quits when there is an award ceremony – Wish my argument appears convincing to my fans and readers.

As we were about to tail-gate the rare exit with our access cards – “ Adarsh Abhineet”- A voice boomed across the hall.

“Shucks…Caught!!!...How could this happen…You are gone dude!!” – a plethora of repulsive thoughts collided with my brain cells. “Quickly think of an excuse…I was going to rest room would do…No no..that’s used many times…try using.. I was having a nausea….or may be I was feeling terribly ill…yes this one should look convincing”.

The thoughts were banging my hands while feet were rooted to the place where I was standing.

“Adarsh Abhineet”- again my Senior Project Manager bellowed – “… again my Senior Project Manager bellowed – “… can you please come on stage!!”

Fear, anxiety, apprehensiveness all colluded into one big round mass and stuck somewhere in my throat. Karthik, gave me a shake to bring my senses back to the reality.
“Go da… they are calling you!!”

My reluctant feet pushed forward, I started hearing sounds of clapping in resonance reverberated across the room. “What these fellas are up to??? Are they gonna shred me to pieces and enjoy the fun….God save me!!” The earnest plea went to the all mighty.

As I moved towards the dais totally confused further words of my SPM amidst those claps echoed in my eardrum – “ Adarsh has been highly dedicated and outstanding in his efforts over past year. His discipline, urge to crack difficult problems, analytical skills has seen him become an exponent in EDI. His wonderful achievement makes him our “Hero of the Manlog”. I request Adarsh to come to the stage and collect his prize”.


“What???? Adarsh…dedicated…discipline…analytical…is there something wrong .And what the hell is this EDI??I think surely they have goofed up big time. There must be someone else who was in line for this award. They have must committed a huge blunder…” – My apprehensiveness was replaced by a set of bemused and bizarre thoughts.” Are they planning to play a prank on me and then execute me for my misadventure?”

I stuttered near the dais and gave a side glance to my Assistant Project Manager. He gave me an impish smile and signaled me to collect my trophy and certificate. In complete trance state I shook hand with my SPM amidst those loud applauses from the people present there. This surely gonna be some dream. It can’t be true!! I returned with my prize to the place where me an Karthik were standing.

“Karthik…I think they are gonna award both of us…for cooking up such a great plan!!” I said Karthik with a slight grin. It took a while for whole affair to sink in. Meanwhile, I kept accepting congratulatory remarks and hand shakes from my peers and superiors. Unfortunately this time round the jury were incoherent with Karthik’s talent and it was only me who ended up winning the award.

Yet whole event was too good to be true and for the first time I could see Mother Destiny showering smiles on me. Later my APM enquired about my bemused look while I stutterd near the dais .When I told him about my plans and its failure. He gave a hearty laugh and said he had posted two people outside the exit gate so that I dont run away. He too started coming to terms with what was there in my head....

Rhapsodizing Gandhism with pint of chemical locha and titillating humor.

Not often a do I get overwhelmed with urge to pen down about a Bollywood flick, not once but twice in succession. However, within couple of weeks the grandeur scale of two contrasting movies triggered set of emotions within me to go about keying in my thoughts about transcending realization on part of script writers to tickle the grey cells in the upper cerebrum. If the Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna left me, admittedly, disturbed and filled with sense of revulsion, Lage Raho Munnabhai was one were the grin broadened with every passing scene. It would be irreverent and flippant on my part towards Munnabhai if I further compare it with tear-jerker and cynical KANK.

When I was young and had discovered the art of breaking knuckles- the sound of ‘tuck’ gave me immense pleasure – I use to get a scornful and admonishing looks from one and all. Later I learnt that when you break knuckles of your finger, you in fact weaken your bones and hurt yourself. This trivial episode at young age is still embedded in my mind for it holds a cryptic message about basic human nature: How much we rue about falling moral standards and disrespect for others yet someone in the corner of our heart we hold love and concern for fellow human being even he is not distantly related to us. How many times In our life do we tread a path where we deliberately hurt ourselves yet remain blissfully ignorant until a prophetic mind shows us where we are heading to. Seeing two contrasting films within a week, I realized that very essence of mankind. I couldn’t tolerate seeing a protagonist been repeatedly hurt in one of them and on other hand I was swept aside by the very exuberance and feel good factor that the second movie exuded.


None of us like seeing or reading gory tales and subjected to mental whipping by seeing others’ woes. Apparently some where in those colorful light moments of Lage Raho…this was the implicit motif that the director and script writer wanted to convey. Gandhism, or perhaps Gandhigiri to be more apt, was preached with same philosophy. Yet the repackaging made it all that different where we could relate our modern times with immortal virtues of Gandhiji.

Over the years there are umpteen books, chronicles, journal and write-ups devoted to understand Gandhiji’s philosophy. Yet I feel they never came to justifiable conclusion as to what exactly he wanted his fellow countrymen to imbibe. At times his verses seemed contradictory and out of sync. Perhaps our understanding never broke that conventional barrier to accept a new philosophy of life. There is a fine line between self respect and ego, between determined and obstinate and that between non violent and coward. With passing time this distinction seemed to get blurred depending on ones own interpretation .For a change Munnabhai did, within three hours, what millions of words devoted to Gandhism couldn’t make us understand.

The most satisfying experience of the movie was revelation of an ‘open’ truth that even the most powerful and influential people, needs courage and guts to speak truth and be honest. Over the course of our life time we commit million mistakes and probably indulge in many more – implicitly. Yet we never have that courage to accept it even in front of our reflection/shadow. And that’s were the distinction between self respect and ego gets clearer. The ego never allows us to overrule our inhibition of accepting the mistakes and look to rectify it. Murali Prasad Sharma a ka Munna faced the similar dilemma whereby his ego almost ruined his relation with his Man Friday – Circuit. The mental confabulation and sense of guilt consciousness was brought forth when his chemical locha generated Gandhiji asked him to apologize to Circuit upfront. How many times in relation that sense of inhibition and egoistic nature deprive us of long lasting relationship?



For some historians Gandhiji was determination personified, for many others he was obstinate man. When you face adversary you need determination while when you look for personal materialistic possession and satisfaction, you become obstinate. When you stand for a human cause , fight for your rights you need determination and when you fight for your personal desire you become obstinate Presumably this very enlightenment changed the course of action in which duo of Munna and Circuit works. The 2nd Innings Cottage resembled a sense of bond for its inhabitants, Munna could have taken the easier route of either bamboozling Lucky Singh with his power or accepting his lucrative offer, Yet that sense of determination to fight for the symbolic territorial sovereignty of the old people lifts him above the mere mortals.



Finally, when Munna accepts the sermons of non violence and realizes its strength there is a sense of self-fulfillment in our part. It takes lot of courage to forgive your predator than go about ending his demonic motives. Leave aside common people, even the muscle flexing Munna and Circuit, who could mess around with anybody in the town, realized the courage that they needed to forgive their adversary Lucky Singh. By winning the emotional quarter of your adversary (I hesitate to use the word enemy) half the battle is won. May be Britishers realized that very power that Gandhiji wielded against them. There leaves no scope for your predator to retaliate in strong terms. As said earlier as human being none of us love to harm others, its just a moment of fit or mental sickness that drives us to cross the boundaries. What Gandhiji wished was such emotionally challenged people “Get Well Soon” and as a human being its our duty to send them metaphorical “Get Well Soon – Card and Flowers” as Munna did to Lucky Singh.



As a last word a special mention to the character of Circuit – a friend and conscience keeper of Munna.- who exemplifies Aladdin’s Genie. There friendship is the celebration of human relation which sees no hidden motives but love and care for his friend. Circuit’s triumph lies in Munna’s happiness. His ability to assimilate the vibrant mood of Munna and set the scenes on fire underlies his importance of a true friend in ones life. Wish each one of us has a “Circuit” in our life to trigger the electrons of positive and amicable ambience in and around us.

What Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna failed to convey..

Marriage in Indian society is seen as an honored responsibility, a family obligation, extension of social ties, in some cases a fruitful conclusion of long revered love and more importantly a chance to add a different dimension to one’s personality where sacrifice and flexibility should rule over one’s ego , self centeredness and his/her own happiness. The ancient Upanishads and Vedas saw Grihashtya life as the one where a person has the opportunity to pay back to family and society in large by practicing all teachings and values of Brahmacharya life in real world. Perhaps these inculcated values that have passed on through generations are one of the primary reasons why Indian marriages have high success rate compared to its contemporaries across the globe.


Unfortunately, Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna failed to convey any of the virtues that hold a marriage together or in rather larger perspective any relation for that matter. It might be over sightedness or lack of reality check on part of script writer to convey what he wanted to say. Marriages are definitely made in heaven and more often than not people end up with partners contrary to their expectations, their life style, their thinking, and their personality. It could be seen as a divine test of character whether one can find fruits amidst the adversity. Yet if one starts pricking his partner’s self respect time and again, test his/her patience and more importantly starts creating a gulf of mistrust and hatred , I suspect whether he would ever live happily with any one else.


By glorifying the cause of two protagonists – Maya and Dev- who seemed totally at wrong pedestal, the script writer has failed to understand the very essence of any relationship. To start with the character of Maya, a somber, melancholic girl who sees darkness even in bright sunlight never ever thought beyond the confines of her self centeredness. In form of Rishi she had the best husband one could ever wish to have- Loving, charming, adjustable and more importantly able to ignore her fallacy and shortcomings. Yet for some unknown reasons which hardly seemed convincing she never gets along with Rishi. It is beyond anybody’s comprehension what exactly she wanted. Right from the day of her marriage, she shows signs of cribbing, apprehensiveness and anxiety which perhaps any newly bride would encounter. Most of them take this as a passing phase and wish for a better future. The character of Maya never seemed to get over this emotional conflict through out her married life for some eerie reasons. Was it her immaturity or was she never ever emotionally strong to get married? These thought kept floating in nebular silhouette of Maya.

The ultimate test of any relation is how you can share happiness and sorrow alike of your partner. There was couple of instances where Maya showed how weak her emotional quotient is. When Rishi’s father throws a party, rather than behaving as a daughter of the family and getting actively involved in the celebration, Maya prefers to draw herself in reclusive world. Definitely it’s upon ones own taste whether he/she likes socializing, party etc. But what her family just wanted was her bubbly presence which she never understood. Besides that at the moment of greatest tragedy when Rishi’s father expires and he was at his emotionally weakest point, Maya prefers to cut loose the Pandora box when the situation demanded her to be standing by the side of Rishi.

There are umpteen moments when one lets down his or her partner, breaks the trust and stray out of the way. Yet there has to be an understanding to learn the difference between hiding and bluffing – especially when the situation demands so. The situation demanded Maya to support her husband at the moment of crisis, dump her past in some closet and start afresh. And here is where the characterization of a woman fails. Any woman is far stronger emotionally and mentally to sustain the trauma at time of adversity. She is the one who takes the onus to face the calamity which strikes her family and relation. Without uttering many things she conveys the persona of fortitude and strong will. Here is where Maya never resembles a woman that we know in our society. Rishi’s marriage was not a failure, he married a failed person, and probably he was better off getting rid of her.


Perhaps, Dev’s character was more to realism considering a male ego which more often than not can’t see his partner as more successful. Yet his constant nagging and trite on Riya or for that matter even on Maya showed there was always a diabolical intent in his personality. Riya took the responsibility of the family for the good when Dev was crippled. Yet Dev demanded something which no body could understand. What exactly he wanted? Riya’s rebuttal on Dev’s remark that she is not a caring mother best exemplified her sensibility and level headedness. Dev couldn’t see the sacrifice she was making personally and professionally. It was not about Maya that drew him close to her. In fact his infidel state of mind could have got hold of anybody available in the proverbial park.


Even under professional pressure Riya was more willing to work out her marriage, do her bit in every aspect and help out Dev. But Dev seemed to get bored with her after spending so many years that he couldn’t find love and affection in what Riya was doing for him. He was not only responsible for breaking his relation but also instigated Maya to forfeit her responsibilities. His clandestine motive was probably evident only in the eyes of Rishi’s father. I suspect whether he would have ever continued his relation with Maya far more than a “Spring” season. Such people are the most dangerous species for not only a family but for any relation. They roam around the streets in clothes of sheep, wearing mistrust on their sleeves. Riya’s final subjugation lie in her words when she tells Maya that Maya would understand the true meaning of sufferings when she will start living with Dev.

Finally by allowing the union of both Maya and Dev – the scriptwriter has allowed a nebular conclusion to follow. Was it right on the part of Maya to leave Rishi at the moment of crisis? Was it correct on Dev’s part to follow the same path which forced the situation that he had to be kicked out of the house? And finally was Maya’s character so fickle and weak that she would allow the proceedings which broke her family, her marriage, and her happiness to overwhelm her? None of this could we all comprehend.

As a last word, those who believe that you should marry only whom you love, fail to understand one very facet of life. This love, affection, infatuation, liking etc is never everlasting. You can keep drooling about your partner’s eyes, his/her persona, his behavior for year or two or may be three. Once it fizzes out after that what? It all boils down to sacrifice, commitments, obligations, reinventing oneself, taking measures to develop new avenues of love, adjustments, flexibility, understanding and more so trust and belief that you won’t get a better partner than this one. Saying love is the only parameter that makes a marriage work is dubious and sacrilege remark on such a sacrosanct institution. Probably the best essence of the film would have been -Never say Alvida to your life partner come what may be.

A toss with a Beer .Swirling Motions behold….

Over the years I have always held a selective prejudice towards alcohol. I believe if someone pays for my drink I shouldn’t hold my wildest urge to get tossed out. On the contrary shelling out even a shilling for a squint towards alcohol would bring out meanest of miser within me, putting even likes of Scrooge to shame. Early college days taught me to ignore the smell and taste, gulp down the acrid solution forcing through the esophagus -.at times just to boast in front of peers that indeed I am manly enough to drink a peg.
Later half showed the way to enjoy every sip of it, albeit on others’ expense – monetarily as well as physically.

There use to be numerous stories doing round of college hostels about certain guys waking up with a splash of beer on their face, using beer to rinse mouth, beer for bath, apparently even plans of filling the water tank on the top of hostel building with gallons of beer and passing an outlet in each of the parched dins of hostel aisle and bay. However, the reality never met my inquisitive eyes and salivating mouth. Outlandish it may seem, yet some guys use to get that extra kick of energy by the smell of beer. The group parties often accounted to famous anecdotes about people on the other spectrum of emotional un-stability.

I can recount my three experiences when couple of pegs drove me to the un-traversed land of fantasy and tranquility. Perhaps then I realized how good a beer or vodka can be when you are looking for a stress buster or adding a Xing to your one-dimensional persona.

On my first trip to Goa, I had controlled aggression towards attacking a mug of beer at shocker of a price; mostly because the seeds of morality and strangled wallet created a double decker huddle. Yet the land of sun, sand and beaches decided to bid me with one last splash to the elusive zone of getting bowled out – mentally .Martin’s – advertised as Sachin’s favorite joint - was the place where we rounded up our sojourn to Goa. The ambience was amazing and adding cherry to the pudding was the presence of Narain Karthikeyan , the then Formula 3 champion from India.

NK had won a car rally that day and apparently there was a party thrown from his sponsors at Martin’s. And as a part of acknowledging NK’s achievement, it was decided that the drink for all the people present at Martin’s will be paid by the benevolent sponsors. For few of us it was a monsoon rainfall on deserts of Sahara. Prior to that those odd rounds of Kingfisher or few Scotch was the maximum I knew about the drinks. That day it all started with Australian beer, followed by Mexican cocktail, topped with Russian Vodka and rounding it off with a French Wine. Metaphorically the world globe was pouring inside the goblet. And after the fifth round of Foster’s Beer , it was game, set and over and out for Addy. I never had prior experience of what it feels like when your senses looses its coherence . That day I sensed myself on the top of a Helicopter, swirling and gyrating at the speed greater than those fans .One moment the kick lifted me upwards, floating in the sky. The next moment I came zooming down like a bungee jumper. The harmonic motion of my adrenaline flow synchronized with every single breath I took.
In- I go upwards: Out- I mellow down
Finally I was carried to the apartment where we stayed.

In the wee hours of the morning my resistance gave up. I spilled over every single drop that I coaxed inside my body. Bucket full of slugs and swamps came rushing through my mouth, nostrils and eyes. The intoxication vanished as quickly as it had gripped me.Whole of next day I was crippled with severe hangover yet the sensation that I experienced last night brought a mischievous grin across my lips.

On another occasion, on my maiden trip by plane, I was overwhelmed by the very atmosphere of Chennai Airport. Those were the days when my credit card was the key to treasure of Monte Cristo. I had read in the card offer that I could avail snacks and drinks free of cost, at the airport lounge. What would have been the better occasion than this to celebrate my maiden trip on Air. Just to ensure that I don’t miss out the dollies , I pumped in couple of extra cans of bear. Now I was ready to fly- free of any anxiety and apprehension.

As my bad luck has always been, here too a woman in mid-fifties and another in early seventies, I presume, was my co-passenger. With nothing much to offer to these ladies in terms of intellect and humor, I decided to pour myself amidst the black sentences of daily newspaper. The occasional kick from the beer in tummy blurred my vision and suggested that I wasn’t in full control of my senses. In the midst of heavy duty world politics news , there was one full page article on World Bikini’s Day.

Man was I reading correct??? Or my senses have indeed got hallucinated???

I had heard of Mother’s day. Father’s day, Women’s day. Flower’s day, even Dog’s Day. But what is this Bikini’s day. The beer kick didn’t loose any time in me jumping on those lines searching for Pamela Anderson, Victoria Streisand or even J Lo. Playing a dampener to my spirits, there wasn’t any spicy stuff written or displayed to set about a humdinger in my fantasy land.

I laid back contemplating about such an august occasion of Bikini’s day. I was hanging there in mid-air where I couldn’t even surf those odd channels of Russian Television where I could truly appreciate the essence of the D Day. I turned my head side ways and found my co-passengers snoring with their head held high. The impish beer didn’t loose its trait. My fantasy broke a new barrier when I starting fancying these two ladies clad in skimpiest bare minimum representing India at World’s Bikini Day across the Bondi Beach in Sydney. I could see those sultry figure competing with rest of the babes running towards me...in an urge to meet my open arms….and then…

Smack!! I suddenly got a hit on my face. The fantasy swirled out into reality. I was back at my seat sitting beside an elderly woman. The effect of beer was gone because of unintentional slap from my co-passenger in her sleepy state. Perhaps she too caught the strong frequencies that the beer effect was sending through my antenna. My Bikini day celebration ended with it.

As the final part of the trilogy with the beer- me and couple of my friends decided to make a short trip to beautiful Pondicherry. The long drive from Madras to Pondi on East Coast Road around midnight is one of the awesome experiences. The cars rocket upwards of 100kph speed, at times loosing contact with the surface because of air gap generated at such high speed.
We reached Pondi around 2 o’ clock in night and immediately went in search for a local beer shop. Finally after handing the pub guard few extra bucks we managed to get hold of couple of bottles. It was enough to make our trip fruitful.

In Pondicherry ,alongside the beaches there are several government offices and of course a big Gandhi ji statue. That day the essence of beer threw kitchen sink against our nationalism. Three of us sat underneath Gandhi ji’s statue and started gulping down those myriads of fantasy and tranquil drops that the bottle carried.

However, the bout didn’t last too long .A local cop saw us, maligning the Father of Nation’s virtue and ideology, barged in.Perhaps his sense of nationalism paid him monetary dividends in huge measure.We had to shell out even the last coin that softly jingled in my back pocket. He drove us out of our senses , out of the beach and out of Pondicherry. Then and there ended our romanticism with the bottle of beer.