Happy Birthday Blog !!

Friends, it gives me immense pleasure to bring to your (and my own ) notice that the blog is an year old now. Yes, I went to the CCD wearing the conical cap and blew a candle on chocolate mousse (which needless to say, I devoured alone) to celebrate this historical literary event. It is still not public and enjoys occasional reading by some of you (and regular reading by me ) and some very occasional comments.

Also, I have recently completed my first ever (man, that sounds so cool !!) short story- ‘On a date with life’ which will be uploaded for you very soon. Thanks to all my buddies whose insightful feedback helped refining it.

Hope to blog forever… and ever… and ever !! Cheers…

9/10- A must-watch list from Hollywood

Long overdue now, but this review(s) is much needed.

-Hotel Rwanda

-Schindler’s List

-Shawshank Redemption

-The Great Debaters

Four fine movies which have added to my regard for the ingenuity of themes that Hollywood can offer. One reason behind writing one review for these is probably, that all are based on serious plots besides been watched recently (and of course, lack of patience to pen down four reviews). Movies which make you wonder how much of the world out there needs to be explored, how many untold stories need to be heard, how many emotions need to be felt, how many artists need to be revered.

Hotel Rwanda is about the oppression of Tutsis in Rwanda around 1994, Schindler’s List is about how one man could save the lives of many Jews during WW II, Shawshank Redemption about how a persevering prisoner breaks from prison after 20 years of hardship and The Great Debaters is about a bunch of Niger students from a college in Texas, USA who defeat Harvard champions in debate. You can refer wiki for details on plot as I would focus on the impact here. Moreover, I don’t even remember the details now, since it’s been some time.

The most striking feature of these movies is that all (except Shawshank) are based on true stories. I don’t mind even if it’s a bit exaggerated. Each one of these movies made me realize how cushy a life we lead here. Grateful to God for all the gifts as well as aware of my vulnerabilities- is how I feel. You watch Hotel Rwanda and you want to visit the road which was covered with dead bodies over which the jeep travelled. You watch Schindler’s and you want to visit those mills where the Jews worked to prevent themselves from death, you watch Shawshank and you want to meet a life-imprisoned inmate; sit and chat with him for hours to see this world from his eyes, you watch Debaters and your heart bleeds for the Negroes who were lynched by white men and you realise the power of words, words replete with passion.

Somehow, I feel this is real education. Movies which should be shown in schools; such works of art, so beautifully crafted dramas. These can open the windows of your mind to events of world history which qualify to be called as historical indeed. Events which were too specific to be touched when discussing the topics in history textbooks in school but which are embodiments of what the topics were all about (read atrocities on Jews during WW II or Apartheid and similar events). Movies with men who had a mission in their life, a purpose to die for, a reason to qualify your existence as a human being.

To end with the simple yet powerful tagline of Shawshank,

‘Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free.’

Happy watching, buddies !!

(ps: like adding such graphics (this one’s a simple collage made in picasa) to posts… really helps visualising i guess… expect more in future, friends !! )

Simple and Positive

 

Why do you ask so much

Why do you bother

What do you keep searching

And do not relax, rather

 

What drives you numb

In the pace of day

What do you want to answer

Why can’t you just say

 

What keeps you awake

In the dead of night

Who invades your mind

With more than her might

 

One after the other

Things slip out of hand

You think it is clay

You know it is sand

 

You worry about future

You’re a slave of past

You can’t think of a theme

Even when you know the cast

 

You exist, away from home

You ask, where is home

You want, to go home

You need, to come home

 

Why all this complication

Why you think negative

Why can’t you live simple

Why isn’t life positive

 

Why do you ask so much

Why do you bother…

 

I miss you Naani

She is no more. ‘No more’- how simple to say, how difficult to accept, how weird to understand. She left us all today morning. Naaniji, my grandmother (maternal), the lady who personified Jaipur to me, Jaipur my 2^nd home. The lady who always received me with such warmth that I used to feel thrilled in every summer/winter vacation of mine for some 20 years of my life.

She died of a heart attack today. Heart attack. Heart attack ?? why?? She was not a heart patient !! She had diabetes and occasional high BP, but a heart attack?? Ok, she was old, around 70 but still not weak enough to resign. The lady could do all her daily chores herself and had a glow on her face which suggested a royal upbringing. A mother (read Maa) of seven, the dutiful wife of an old man bed-ridden now for more than a decade, the central figure of a joint family which has survived the test of time- my Naani was understated but charismatic.

She gifted me with so many things esp. my first musical instrument ever- an SA-21 CASIO and as a musician it means so much to me. She was the support of my mother in all her lows and was most attached to her as mom is the eldest. She was an early-riser and occasionally during my long vacation in Jaipur when I used to get up early, I often saw her feeding the birds esp. parrots which come in plenty at our bungalow in Jaipur. Yes it is a bungalow. How full of pride I feel to be associated with that place. The parrots in the morning, the cows in the afternoon, the pet dog (Cherry and the late Sheru)… they all will miss her, I am sure.

She had a hobby of gardening esp. kitchen gardening. I would often devote time with her appreciating and soiling myself among ladyfinger and mint plants, ‘anar’ (Pomegranate) and ‘sitafal’ (??) trees.

In her later years she was sensitive, often she would overreact and call my mom to vent out her feelings about the problems of family; but impressionable like a kid who used to accept advice quickly.

There is a propensity to consider the positives of a person when you are writing a tribute to him but more importantly you appreciate someone only when he is gone.

It’s a tough time for me as I cannot head for Jaipur due to end-term exams on here. But I cannot sleep tonight. I am there in our ‘Jaipur-wala Ghar’ mentally. Visualising what must be going on. It’s tough for me to prepare for the next paper which is Finance when I could not console my mother who was weeping on phone. It’s tough for me. It’s tougher for her.

I went to the temple and prayed for her, felt her in the sky somewhere watching me. Thought of something there as a gift. Things will fade with time but she will remain in my heart as the sweetest naani and I know God will bless her soul with peace. Can’t write more.

I love you naani…

ps: in retrospection, ‘the sky isn’t always blue… the sun doesn’t always shine… it’s all right to fall apart sometimes…’  it was a phase. I visited Jaipur in April to feel the vacuum she has left behind. The place can never be the same.

Morning Adventures n Aaja Nachle !!

Operational strategy, core competency and Zzz… ok this morning I DO NOT want to study dear Prof. (wow how unusual is that avi ). So I’ll just sink in my seat (Err, it’s 1^st row ) and rejoice in the memories of the beautiful movie I watched last night. Btw, my heart is still pounding, courtesy the Grand Prix version of Tour de France that I was subjected to this morning. I could sense that I was late but today it was REALLY late. I mean I was still merrily brushing my teeth like Ishaan Awasthi of TZP (‘..yahan alag andaaz hai..’) when the gong hit 8:30, the time the lecture starts here. I could visualize a settled-down class warmed-up for discussion and Avi interrupting the flow by his no-more-embarrassing entry. Thank God, I got my bicycle repaired yesterday- I could drive at almost 40 kmph, narrowly escaping a speeding pedestrian friend. It felt like a microsecond when I reacted to an impulse by bending a few degrees and simultaneously shifting the bike a few cms. to escape the accelerating mortal (Man, that sounds like Neo dodging bullets in Matrix ).

But what really scares the hell out of me is when you don’t spot a single familiar face on your way. I mean how can everyone, yes EACH one of them make it on time to the morning lecture- violation of Hiesenberg’s uncertainty principle you see !! But no, there, I finally enter the class with three other lazy souls excluding mine. “Why ‘excluding’, Avi ??” Well my friend, this cruel world, the decadent society has killed my soul and stripped me of all innocence. I have become a ZOMBIE . Of course I have. Don’t you already hear Cranberries singing in the background in my honour ?? Sob Sob …

Ok now coming to the movie, which bugger gave me a negative feedback for ‘Aaja Nachle’ ?? I feel like giving him a strong dose of ‘gyan.’ Dear lord, forgive me for my infantile behaviour and spreading the bad word before watching the movie myself (Avi, you gossipmonger !!). I pray for mercy from the semi-clad, hungry kids of the spotboy of the movie who could not get as lucky as their peers from OSO family .

Well the movie may not be realistic at some places but then it’s a drama which may not be LEGEN…DARY but is a 7 on 10 anyday. It has good music, some great vocals and a simplicity in sets that is appealing. And yes, Mrs. Walia has made a comeback and I like her oeuvre. You know what, I was wondering last year that how could a movie adorned with such a strong theatre-cast be not good- Ranvir Shourie, Vinay Pathak, Konkana Sen, Raghuvir Yadav, Kunal Kapoor- all play small but matured roles. The highlight is the climax- the ‘Laila-Majnu’ musical play with ‘Koi patthar se na maro mere deewane ko’ in a refined touching version and ‘Yeh ishq ishq hai’ with a sufi touch. Couple of pulsating dance nos. from the versatile Sunidhi Chauhan, the velvety ‘Ishq hua’ by Sonu-Shreya and of course, the awesome qawwali-like ‘O re piya’ by Rahet Saab (reminded me of ‘Yaaron sab dua karo’ of Ram Shankar). The music is an 8 on 10 definitely. Fine package overall.

Don’t know why but some days are so restless that it takes an episode of SCRUBS (Yeah, finished all seasons of HIMYM) and a movie like this to revamp your mood. Life’s like that I am sure. Even if I am unsure of the category of this post . Hope it still is a Happy New Year, Darlings !!

Inclusive Growth

CII Panel Discussion @ITC Grand, Mumbai on 18th Jan, 2008

Some events in daily life, the hectic life, need you to take that little bit of initiative besides routine and once you do it, these prove to be enriching experiences. This panel discussion on INCLUSIVE GROWTH proved to be on similar lines. Frankly, we as a group of students from B-school travelled suited up in Mumbai’s locals at traffic hours in evening for two reasons- networking with some high-profile corporates and the charm of 5-star hotel to mortals surviving on mess food. But, my take-away from the event turned out to be something different.

The discussion had eminent panelists such as Mr. Bala V Balachandran(GreatLakes), Mr. GRK Reddy(Marg), Mr. Jamshyd N Godrej(Godrej Group), Mr. Atanu Dey(Economist) and the charismatic Mr. TT Rangarajan(Self-development Guru). The GD was effectively moderated by Mr. Harsha Subramaniam of CNBC. It took some ice-breaker questions for the panelists to rise above the statistics of GDP growth, pre- and post- liberalisation scenarios, political vs. economic freedom and women in corporate boards etc. and share with us insights from their rich experience. Not all are wealthy in that sense and we as MBA students gradually develop a good discerning ability to know what is a ‘perspective’ and what is (global) ‘gyaan.’ Not that it’s our prerogative or something but probably because we master giving so much ‘gyaan’ in our GDs ourselves that we get sick and tired of it.

I was particularly impressed by the oratory as well as perspective of Mr. TT Rangarajan(TTR hereon). Dressed in pure white kurta-pyjamas unlike others who were suited-up, he started with a proper ‘Namastey’ and said that I and you are one in spirit, one energy but many manifestations. (We initially felt like “Oh no, not another preacher or Baba Ramdev !!”). But soon he built up an argument on simple and emotional grounds that evaded sounding mawkish. His central point was that inclusive growth for him does not mean feeling concerned about farmers committing suicides in Vidarbha but piercing through his circle of concern to reach his circle of influence(read 7 habits, Covey) and ensure that the next generations of his watchman and maid will not serve as watchman and maid respectively. He pointed that we as humans are innately emotional so we feel concerned about the under-privileged but more often than not, we cannot or do not do anything since the kind of effort we perceive is iconoclastic in nature. He quoted Mahatma Gandhi as ‘Be the change you want to see.’

“Charity will keep a poor person poor, only employment will uplift him,” TTR remarked. It is this practical touch of his speech that prevented him getting the title of a ‘preacher.’ He said that fundamentally we need to know just four things- to be, to do, to have and to give. Emphasizing on the journey rather than the goal, he said that what we achieve in achieving our goal is uncomparable to what we become in achieving our goal. His quotes like “… money is a beautiful by-product… together we flourish, divided we perish… it’s easier to teach accountancy to an honest man than honesty to an accountant…” instantly made an impact. He appropriately remarked that reservations would do nothing more than denting the self-image of a man and that mind of a man is the man. His idea was to make people employable instead of any incentives by the Govt.

One sharp point he made on leadership was that we have three types of it. Professional Leadership- in the form of your Team Leader(who really leads i.e.), Emotional Leadership and Sentimental Leadership. Here he urged us to differentiate emotions from sentiments, the former being positive, the latter regressive in nature. “We need emotional leadership today. We need to break out of mindsets. There is nothing in a caterpillar- physiologically or apparently- that suggests that one day it will become a butterfly,” this one comment of his invited maximum applause and didn’t it deserve it?? He ended his speech with the famous beautiful inspirational lines of Tagore…

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action–
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Even after the discussion when we went to interact with him, he greeted each one of us with a warm hug. It felt different, not at all artificial, to say the least. It was a pleasure to hear from him again over e-mail and I hope I can be in touch with such motivators and mentors always. 

Ad-apt

Well the new year begins with a 1st prize in a new domain- Ad Making, n serendipity it is … 2 cool Ads by me… both experimented in Windows MovieMaker !!

1. Nestle Kitkat- more of a requirement of Nestle for campus placements at some B-schools.

2. Rat Poison- this was an internal competition which my team cracked. We had to choose a product from a list containing condoms, laptops, chocolates, chewing gums, lipstick, rat poison etc. I decided to go unconventional this time with rat poison and the plan clicked in our favour.

 Enjoy !!

ps: feedback welcome as usual

MBA, The 1st Quarter- ANALYSED

M.B.A.- never before has an abbreviation sounded so forceful, revealing and amusing at the same time. I mean, did I ever feel that way when I was doing a B.E. or working as an S.E.?? Certainly not. And now that I have completed a quarter and become 1/4^th MBA (apologies if it sounds like knighthood !!) which adds to my confusingly interesting quarter life crisis, I feel an urge of analysis. Frankly, with due regards to engineering, I never felt a similar urge ever. Actually, it feels more of an accomplishment having completed a quarter MBA than half of engineering did.

So what’s the big deal about MBA?? Well, without sounding too boastful, it is actually a big deal. I would say that a significant change is that the ‘pace’ of life increases. And willingly or otherwise, you have to ‘move with your cheese’ unless you are the present-day reincarnation of Buddha (Personality Type B, course- Organisational Behaviour). By pace, I mean that you feel as if you are running- from 8 in the morning to 3 in the night, at least!! Running for lectures, running for quick snack in between lecturers, running to and fro hostels, running to catch power naps, running for assignments and presentations- their scheduled discussions, documentation and printing, running for late night coffee with Maggi, late night chats with girl friends(the so-called or rather, so-felt ‘work-life balance’) and not-so-late night chats with family, running faster than the mails of your inbox that is checked a zillion times in a day but definitely running slower than the (alarm)clock on your desk (and that to your regret).

Next, the ‘magnitude’ of life increases. Every other day, you find some high-profile guy from the corporate world keen to address you on issues ranging from ‘subprime mortgages’ to ‘umbrella branding’ in some continuum or convention series. Initially you are equally keen (or at times more) because coming from an otherwise common-man background who notices these faces on covers of business mags, you feel wow in their company. Gradually you lose interest, even stop boasting in your friend circles that ‘I met the VP of this big business house and… shook hands or asked a (relevant) question which he appreciated… So, what else is magnitude. Coming from a typical job life of dull formals at max with a tie and working on the same boring desktop of your cubicle, you now graduate to a mostly suited-up sartorial savvy guy with a laptop whose phone rings more now esp. with business/academic calls. Here are some typical daily conversations overheard,

“Hey when do we sit for the discussion on our statistics project, man? Tomorrow is the deadline remember ?? And others (read social loafers) are too indifferent anyway, so I guess it’s we who need to pack it up.”

“Hi, listen dude could you please mark the course for tomorrow’s test of Cost Accounting in my book and just give me an overview of Simplex Method so I would not be awestruck if the Prof. asks me to explain that assignment question which I could not do anyway.”

“Pal, that case study we discussed in the class today, do something, just mail all of us in the group the minutes, ask Barnie to prepare the word doc meanwhile I and Marshall work on the ppt. and ya, tell barnie to be careful this time- times new roman 12, 1.5 spacing in pdf is what the prof. craves for, ok ?? “

Phew !! And yes to handle this ‘phew’, often the magnitude of unwinding on weekends increases too as you tend to spend more over movies/plays/pizzas/dates despite being jobless. You live on future gains, effectively.

With respect to the management education, the mantra I have realised is ‘Think Macro, Act Micro.’ Frankly, the courses are far more relevant and interesting than any other form of qualification till now. And the faculty, the best till date esp. if you hit the one of the good colleges. All is relative of course, including the grades, which often turns out to be extra-pressure. In a way, it spoils the drive for group-study in the real sense of the term. But competitiveness is all-pervasive here. One extra point written in exam, one extra grade scored, one extra line in your resume due to one extra paper presented, one extra lac in the final package, so many ‘one-extras’.

Coming to studies, the first term is testing in nature esp. as you actually find it difficult to study after a couple of years or so of work. I mean handling my client in an IT project or modifying my piece of code due to a change request now seems easier than matching balance sheets and cash flow statements in accounting esp. if you are from a technical background. But soon after the initial shock, you get accustomed to handling it the ‘student way’ or on a deeper note the ‘manager way.’ You realise that it’s not about being a perfectionist and ‘All’s well that ends.’

Running through a quick summary of courses, accounting (financial or cost) is tough but interesting esp. finac. Statistics and decision models is pain but objective like mathematics. MIT or MIS are most commonly perceived as redundant and the Prof. mimicked the most. Organisational behaviour or Communication skills type courses are welcome breaks for most and thoroughly refreshing for few HR-oriented souls who rule the GDs. Economics- micro is dull, macro is happening esp. because macro helps you understand until-now-formidable ET better and of course, impress friends and elders in any discussion under the sun (it’s all about inflation and demand-supply afterall, right ??). As far as the two most popular domains of management are concerned, there’s hardly an overlap between people genuinely interested in Marketing and Finance courses. Finance as they say is the technical language of business and the domain with most inflated packages esp. if you happen to become an i-banker or something similar. But more often than not, a 75% of the batch crazy for fin when they start with MBA reduces to 25% after a reality-check of finance in summers, after one year. Marketing is the relatively creative or people-side of business as you need to sell. And then of course you have the 4Ps, 5Ss and 3Cs (no, not that Cineplex in Lajpat Nagar, Delhi !!).

Then there are the committees such as PR, logistics, alumni, rankings and clubs of marketing, finance, operations, systems etc. which receive a good response initially but later when you realize that you have a CGPA of 6 because you devoted too much time doing the PR work (because ‘Public Relations’ sounded so exciting and full-of-exposure to you) or sticking posters of Finance Continuum (because you really wanted to know more about ‘finance’), you withdraw from all and begin staying awake even in those morning lectures.

Another prominent phase of the quarter is the SUMMERS process which gets really eventful at times. I mean you are made to believe that this is indeed the END of the world. Batchmates who you thought of as really reserved unleash their surprising talents in GDs. You are made to fill up questionnaires with stuff called as ‘value added questions’ like state an incident when you demonstrated leadership(no, not like SRK saving DP in OSO from fire!!) or why do you think ‘502 pataka’ is the best company for an internship in finance. Most of it is to do with how well you can present yourself (read how well you can google or how networked are you to get matured opinions). You are made to sit in ppt.s of companies back to back and listen (not hear) and smile (not smirk) and ask a quality question which could impress them, if you want to prepare your ground well. GDs are same crazy contests or protests of two-thirds of the group members working out their vocal chords out of which half have relevant points. The relatively hesitant one-third may or may not have points and are typically asked to summarize by the moderator (typically, the HR lady- very fine display settings !!).

So that’s pretty much about the first quarter and in case you don’t find that eventful, did I tell you about the exam days ?? Well, ‘Coming soon in a theatre near you !!’…

Silence at night…

What is a poem. Something that just flows, may be around a theme. Something that’s not constrained by the conditions of structure or rhyme, length or appeal- something that belongs to the poet. Something that is so much felt and so little conveyed. Something that yearns for better vocabulary all the time to bring out that perfect expression that precise feeling. So here’s one such attempt- yet again unfinished or unpolished but impromptu, yet again the outcome of the urge to capture that moment before it fades out in dim recesses of memory, yet again the quest for life…. It’s about silence and the thoughts revolving around it late at night…. Happy reading !!

 

It’s the dead of the night again

Sleepless I lie on the couch

In a big room all alone

Or all lonely, shall I say

Don’t know if it’s 3 or 4 by now

Don’t care for that

Just know that it’s night, the beloved

And she looks special today

She is the seductress

And I just want to submit

 

Exhausted I am of all daily chores

And desires so material in nature

There’s silence all around all pervasive

There’s darkness enveloping me

Save the yellow dim of the lamp outside

Why does it get more and more restless

As she passes by

 

I can feel something

I can hear some noise

No, not of the city running

And honking on wheels

A city mad in rush

A city drowned in lust

This noise of chaos in mind

Churning out the same questions again

And casting an illusion that this time

It’s more profound more elevating

 

I can hear the ticking of a clock I can’t see

Just like I know that time is passing by

But unnoticed like a thief at night

What is it stealing that’s mine

Well if nothing

Then what do I have

What am I here for, to have

The torture continues

 

I recall the night

When I lay on the mountain top

I recall the deafening silence

How I watched the stars the constellations

Stitched on the black sky, the hollow

And wondered over history over cosmic forces

I saw the city lights winking at me

As if flirting with me teasing me

And saying, ‘make a night sweetheart

We let you out of the race this time

But see you soon’

I kept watching the embers of bonfire

Till they kissed the chilly winds

 

I have stopped wishing time stands still

Not even for the sake of a wish

I know it wont, it’s the absolute

So I prefer to dive in

As much as I can

To qualify my existence

 

There are moments I have known

When you do not want to do

What you like the most

But something beyond

I don’t want this silence to be disturbed

Even by the most poignant notes of music

It’s my wine, I want to absorb it

It’s like that beautiful beloved

Whom I just wish to watch

And be with for hours galore

Till I lose myself in her somewhere

Or till dreams do us apart…

 

(@home- dec 2007)

 

Life, it is….

Intro- ‘The life…. it is’ is an attempt of a man to understand the greatest enigma- life, in his own little way; explore and contemplate over its constituents. It’s a variety - if it offers shattering sorrow, it presents immense happiness; if it’s often turbulent, it’s seldom still. If it’s a cloud of relationships enveloping you throughout, it’s a pain when it rains. And underlining all this is death and its ironical and thought-provoking relationship with life. This piece of work is not a claim to have understood quite a lot, but, definitely something. Some broad aspects classified as distinct stanzas. And within each stanza, the composition just allowing the prominent feelings to be included. I hope you would be able to relate to this extract to some extent and if so, it’s worth it for me. Call it philosophy, call it introspection…. whatever, just feel it.

 

Yes! ‘Once upon a time’ it is

The feeling, reincarnated

A quest to contemplate the ‘race’

That goes on, unabated

Someone somewhere is nostalgic

Over something so monotonic

A perplexed ‘me’ yearns to tag ‘it’

With one label - Euphoric or Satanic

 

Yes! ‘A stage’ the world is

But life, no set drama

Change is what defines

This virtually real panorama

Men and women not mere players

But puppets being played upon

By someone called God or Luck

Seldom like king, often as pawns

 

Yes! ‘A single stroke’ it is

That changes it all

A single moment you never know

When is to befall

Emperor to slave

Discontent rules, lusts prevail

Past to forget, future painted

But present, so frail

 

Yes! ‘Reality bites’; a cataclysm it is

Shatters you to pieces galore

The hollow seems eternal

Moistened eyes, depression to explore

Aspersions pinch, taunts lacerate

Someone tender aches deep inside

The rationale surrenders to superstition

When failures rock your worthy side

 

Yes! ‘Life is beautiful ‘; a joyride it is

Arrives late and leaves early

Comes in abundance, likewise departs

Everyone changes, everything pearly

Rosy memories are casted now

Recognition to lead success

Feelings bonny, thoughts enlightened

Confidence high, dreams in excess

 

Yes! ‘Lake placid ‘; stagnant it is

A phase of stillness, often abstract

Neither laughs, nor tears

A transitive yet distinct act

Aimlessness shades a dormant mind

Something expected just happens not

Waiting you are, not downcast

Ostensibly blithe, internally taut

 

Yes! ‘Chain of relations’ it is

Some shackles webbed, others you gather

Expectations and reciprocations throughout

Either due to the other

Some out there you count as yours

Who drive you ahead, are driven with

Sometimes boggled between ‘love’ and ‘like’

And still grope in the mid

 

Yes! ‘Something missing’; the pain of loss it is

The ones so close leave you alone

With a gap for time to fill

And touching memories, as lines on stone

Every being from day to night

Pulling the struggle in a heat of hope

Many just exist; some achieve heights

To leave a mark, few have the scope

 

Yes! ‘Pack up’; the end it is

Death…. the inevitable queen of mysteries

The shadow of life, the demoniac

A flash, and ones present become histories

Some yearn for it, but betrayed to live

Others caught oblivious by its audacity

The racer just stops, the spirit vanishes

To think, a pity; to face, an entity

 

Yes! ‘Drop of ocean’ this is

What my discontent poesy could capture

The reasons unknown, logics not defined

Still, the ice demanded a fracture

A latent conscience is hit by ‘a’ gist

No laments for whatever I miss

As someone somewhere touched again, asks

And I say, No !! Life, it is….  

 

Avi

(dedicated to mummy-papa on their marriage anniversary - feb 2002)

Life here- on Shuffle, on Repeat…

It is midnight now. Aman takes another sip of hot tea in the night canteen of his hostel as he reflects on the rigour of his day at the B-school. He had a packed day with three lectures of two hours each and a seminar on ‘Derivative Operations’ by an alumnus working for a leading i-bank. He could not meet the Placecom’s deadline for submission of form for an FMCG major for summers, and had to plead, had to fight. He dislikes filling up these long forms, he hates lying to himself when answering those value-added questions. “To hell with it”, he thinks as he lights a Navy Cut and lets the vapours fill his insides so they can wash out some of his chaos. He wonders what he wants to do here- all specialisations look equally tempting or illusive to him and he finds himself lacking for all of them. He thought that MBA would make it easy for him to answer for himself what he wants or rather needs to do in his life, to find a purpose to his existence in long-term. He pities himself over such romanticism now. He looks at Alok, shuttling out there in the corridor, busy on phone with a half-hearted smile on his face. Alok is chatting with Bhavna sharing his thoughts on ‘Mumbai’s way of life’ with her. A core Mumbaikar that he is, he’s trying to make the conversation as interesting as possible for his latest crush who’s from Delhi. He makes sure that he conveys a very positive image of his to her. He does not want to discuss the frustrating, heated argument he had few hours ago with Sanjay whom he considers to be a social loafer in their statistics project group, the kind of parasites who do nothing yet take away equal credit. Bhavna is crawling in the veranda of her single room at girls’ hostel, in between catching a glimpse of the lovely moon of tonight ‘.. galleon tossed upon cloudy seas..’- she recalls ‘The Highwayman’ poem from school times. How much she hopes that the same moon turns someone in Delhi, sentimental too, at this time; Nikhil conveyed his feelings to her just before she left the capital for MBA. She likes him, she really does. He is her best buddy since two years now, but love….?? She doesn’t know. But she does not want to lose him. Out here in Mumbai, the so-called maximum city, she really appreciates how Alok uplifts her moods when she’s low (which happens more here, she doesn’t understand why). But she doesn’t feel ‘that’ way for Alok. Still, she couldn’t understand her discomfort when she saw him with Isha at the coffee shack yesterday. Isha, she knows, is a compulsive flirt but is Alok…. ?? She wonders. She could see Isha enjoying something on her lappy with headphones on, in her room. Must be another episode of ‘How I met your mother’, she guesses. This is Isha’s current ‘lullaby’ after she finished all seasons of Friends; ‘Have you met Ted ??’- being her latest Gtalk signature.

Almost three at night by now, Sanjay is on a stroll on the sodium-lit campus roads chatting with Pooja, his girlfriend of engineering times to whom he is committed. Or so says his Orkut status, at least. Pooja works for an IT major in Kolkata and had a dispute with her PL today over refusal of her compensatory off for last Sunday when she slogged at office till late night. “IT sucks, God knows why I came here !!”, she thinks. But she doesn’t mention this to Sanjay as she tries to cheer ‘him’ up. Afterall she is the lady of his life, she feels a moral obligation. Sanjay runs into Abhishek while on the walk. “Sorry pal, just a li’l bit of vodka, you know !!” blabbers Abhishek as he passes by. “It’s ok man, better control yourself !!” replies Sanjay with a derisive smile. He hates Abhishek for the hypocrite he thinks he is, the type of ‘show-offs’ who don’t know a damn and still keep shouting in the class to impress professors; the types who do not add any worthwhile content in any GD yet add to the noise. Abhishek reaches his room at hostel, slams the door open, awakens his Vaio in the dark and lets Pink Floyd fill the air as he falls flat on the bed at 4 am. Afterall it’s an 8:30 lecture tomorrow (today, now) and his attendance is short, he faintly recalls. The music crossfades. The playlist is on Shuffle, it is on Repeat. So is life here, so is….

 

(Disclaimer: All characters fictional- any resemblance purely coincidential !!)

 

फिर कुछ अर्ज़ है…

(Here’s the sequel to my fascination with composing couplets. Each one of these is set in a unique mood and is close to heart. These were moments when I dived in the feelings and tried to observe what I felt, instead of ignoring them- reminds me of ‘Tuesdays with Morrie.’)

….

वो शाह नहीं जो वक़्त बदल जाऊंगा

पर कहीं न कहीं कुछ तो मुकाम कर जाऊंगा

मेरे सुरों को महसूस करके तो देखो

वो ख्याल हूँ जो दिल में उतर जाऊंगा…

(feb ‘07- composed as an intro to one of my musical performances)

….

जाम कहते हैं लोग जिसे

किसी-किसी की ज़रूरत बन जाता है

अश्क जो बह न सका गीली पलकों से

दर्द बन रगों में बह जाता है…

(june ‘06- so what if I don’t drink !!)

….

गुनहगार तो नहीं तेरा

पर इतना मासूम भी नहीं मैं

आखिर कुछ लव्जों में ये दर्द

तुझी से तो बांटता हूँ

कर्ज़दार तो नहीं तेरा

न कोई दीवाना, पर हाँ

तेरी याद का सहारा

लेकर ही रात काटता हूँ…

(feb ‘07- a practical admission to a 3 am buddy)

 

Hangovers At Dawn….

It’s Mumbai, the maximum city. But it wasn’t a night-out at some disc last night, with sacred rivers of booze flowing, heavenly vapours of cigarette shading the room and the most legitimate inhabitants of planet earth thumping their feet hard on the floor.. Or some ‘other’ stuff happening.. Ok, don’t even extrapolate you perverts!!

It’s an ‘early’ morning (8:30) lecture of Statistics at a B-school. Can you hear the technical murmur?? Doesn’t it sound like some divine invocation, in one of those big temples in one corner of Earth, radiating sound waves strong enough to establish contact with life beyond Pluto?? .. (Poor SETI !! )

But kudos!! to the reserved energy of this blogger that he can push the pen even in this semi-drunk (with sleep) state to enlighten you mortals. Ya its ok, you’re welcome!! (Shut up avi n come to the point!!) 

“So students, an application of Poisson’s distribution is the acceptance sampling in quality control departments of manufacturing firms and lambda here would be….” Ya, yay, yeah!! (Milder cousin of ‘eeeehhhh!!’ ) Frankly, to interpret the above-said, I feel ‘poissoned’, too sane to deserve any ‘acceptance’ and obviously in ‘controll.’ Give me a break you two-hour-torture-with-a-smirk prof. !!

“Ok, you can have a 5-minute break, students.” Man, that was telepathic Chhotu, here I come (btw in case u don’t recognize him, Chhotu is the omnipresent canteen boy with a ‘gamchha’ on his left shoulder and ‘cutting-cellar’ in one hand!!).

…. ….. 

Damn it!! Damn the rains of Mumbai. Yes I am back without the divine cup of Cappuccino. The moment I stepped out of my heated classroom to reach the chilled-out coffee shop, God turned ON his shower (literally !!) and only for those 5 minutes. The city is so much financial in nature that probably it even rains in EMIs (Easy Minutely Instalments).  And I was least interested in getting drenched, esp. after skipping it at hostel. I mean, water is the most feared calamity in slumber land, you would agree.

Well then, the hangover this dawn would remain for another hour but hopefully rain will not play spoilsport in my next break. ‘A lot can happen over coffee’- I can feel that now. Obviously besides some cosy chats with your date over the cup  , with guitar playing in the background and aroma in the air. Cosy.. Aroma.. Ok enough, Guten Nacht for now!! (‘Good Night’ in German- read ‘show-off’!!  ).

Btw, I like the bell-shaped curve of normal distribution out there on the board now. Ok, stop thinking you one-track minds and go to sleep

….. …..

Attendance: “Avi??”

ZZzzzz….

Raindrops….

Falling from above like pearls from heaven
They trickle down the earth, the senses
Drip down like frills from the tin of my veranda
Rest like dew on the leaves, so green
Only to be displaced, by newer ones
Much like the moments of life

They are showered as mercy
Received as bliss
Rejoiced as beauty
Felt like a kiss

On the wings of breeze
They tickle the wind chime outside
And invade my room from the window
Blow away the curtain and papers on my desk
And, as if holding my hands, pull me out
Complaining like my lover
To spend some time with her

And intoxicated in her fragrance
I am disarmed of all reason
Save a desire, to capture the moment
And derive some life out of it

So I submit myself, she embraces me
Caresses me in her arms
Asks me to close my eyes and feel her
And let the feeling sink in
Touch me deep inside
And then fade out, slowly
Rain to drizzle to peace….

A still it is from the camera of life
When I am rich
With the pearls from heaven
Stored in the vault of my heart
To shine as memories forever

 

(July ‘05- @my room)

A journey from heat to rain

Someone knocked softly; I moved my closed eyelids to find out. He was the Sun, the mighty ball of fire announcing his majestic arrival through his rays coming unabated through the windows of the train. I woke up irked as I realized that the cool of my sleep had been welcomed by the heat of reality- the heat of an intense summer, keeping its ‘promises’ to the best of its abilities this year.

The journey was long, or at least it seemed so. And it was revealing, of Her ire. As if the mother was hurt and vengeful. With every passing hour I could feel the day getting uneasier. Fury of May of this tropical land had percolated deep into and scarred every soul and June passing dry, was trampling hopes, shattering dreams, challenging survival.

What I was watching through the window of the train was like a documentary or movie on TV, on something unpleasant happening, some tremendous ‘force’ into play in the background, with a feel or intent of burning- what exactly, I didn’t know. Farms had turned into barren, orphaned fields…. forever. Few animal carcasses could be spotted, staring (still) at the sepulchral sky with hope. Some tanned souls stood near dried-up wells, in search of last few divine drops, helplessly surrendering to the ‘force’, to the ‘end’. What was unusual was the absence of the smile and a waving hand to the passing train. Survival preponderating over instincts….

Expecting to divert myself, I turned to the newspaper, which was overflowing with merciless statistics of loved ones lost to heat and thirst…. in multitude, as if insects…. of homes left in despair and villages abandoned in search of the cool of burning bellies…. to escape the terror of drought.

Out far, I could see few rural women plodding in a queue balancing arrays of pots full of water (I hoped so) on their heads….. ‘and miles to go before they rest’…. with the ‘God’ overhead. Few foreigners in the train were eagerly catching this scenery in their zoom-in cameras. Exciting, vivid and poignant as it seemed, the theme for a painter’s work, the recipe for some poesy. Someone’s suffering, as always, engendering someone’s sympathy and someone’s pleasure.

To some relief, the day finally ended with the scorching sky going red. What was in store was another weary, sleepless night; of course with a prayer going up for the next day. I wondered over the difference in the extents to which some severity of climate can affect rural and urban lives. After gazing for long at the star-studded, clear night sky from the train and the light of a bulb from a dwelling atop a far-off hill, sleep somehow embraced a tense and tired mind.

Next dawn, someone knocked hard; I felt drops on my eyelids. A still-recovering sense suggested tears, but no, it was cool. The drops were expelling away the heat of my face. And suddenly someone outside emphatically declared his arrival. Gigantic formations were shading the sky, as if a battalion ready to strike but the enemy (hiding behind), absconding.

Yes, the prayers were heard! The cool was building up. And amidst the thunder, the drizzle began. A divine sight…. as if pearls falling down…. as gifts to mankind…. A mankind relieved, elated, gratified…. With every giant spark the drops multiplied; the noise of the downpour was like music to ears. The green started rejuvenating instantly. People in the train started singing and dancing…. irking making way for desires. Not to beat the ecstatic children running on roads outside, playing with tyres on farms, shouting, as if gone crazy.

Out far the farmer in white was embracing the rain with open arms and his naïve woman (in red and green-coloured rural attire) collecting the drops from under the shade of straw on her palm…. with a subtle music in the background…. the music of life. Dogs running, peacocks dancing….every soul appeared drenched in His magnanimity, immersed in Her mercy…. the Monsoons were finally here.

As the train passed over a bridge, someone down there was bubbling with joy, regaining her vigour, the river was dancing over her new life. Further on a ‘phatak’ of a town, happy motorists were waving to the train, relating to each other in the joy. I wondered over the efficacy of a change above to induce a change below in the hearts of otherwise (and generally) apathetic population…. even if momentarily.

Having been a victim, a blessed being, and an observer in the background, even if a vicarious one to some extent, I wondered over the contrast life can offer us, nature can portray. As contrasting as life and death itself. Either incomplete without the other. And the entire spectrum of human emotions at display. To explain that bliss is hollow without pain…. to remind the materialistic world of Her forces…. Her role…. to make us realize some underlying principles made to fade off by the rat race…. to teach us so much more…. from heat to rain….

(Aug 2004)

Musique de la vie

Music is the beauty of life. Beauty in any form makes an impact. Impact gives birth to seeking and seeking is the purpose of life. Music is the supreme force, that one phenomenon which is too extraordinary to be real, in the sense of the effect it can have. In fact, if there’s one thing that mankind, or life in general, is indebted to god for, it is music.

It gives me pleasure galore to write about something that I can afford to call as my passion in life. I am not a professional singer or a musician (as of now!!), but this is one field that I feel most strongly about. Probably because the three domains of instinct, emotion and reason amalgamate so beautifully in this one form of art that it feels so complete. Of course, emotion predominates and makes it more felt than heard or created or talked about. No wonder then, that since centuries, there have been men and women who have devoted their lives to music and taken it as ‘the’ meaning behind their existence.

Most of us have a certain preference or passion for some genre of music. The ‘high’ that ‘your-kind-of-music’ can impart you as a person, esp. in moments close to you, is unsurpassed. Many of us are highly opinionated about the kind of music we follow. Right from the velvety notes of a lullaby that soothes an infant to the nostalgic ‘ghazal’ that induces sleep to an old insomniac, music is like a friend forever, adapting itself according to our desires at various phases of life. There are songs that moisten our eyes in the dark of the room in the silence of the night, others that energize our limbs on dance floors in discos or weddings, and still others that are beautiful because of subtlety and so on. Whether it’s the 20GB+ collection on your laptop, or the latest i-pod, having a Sony Xplode system in your car, storing the latest songs on your mobile and making your colleagues listen to these or exchanging songs through e-mails in offices, there’s somewhere a feeling of pride in owning something good, something all-pervasive yet so diverse.

Music exists around us in the form of sounds in nature that you feel when out for vacation in hills or along the sea; in the form of numerous musicians who leave you bowled over by pure talent. There are so many I admire and wish to meet. I recently attended a live concert of Jagjit Singh and then of Kailash Kher and was overwhelmed. Both are virtuosos in their genres. The depth of notes, the ‘jugalbandi’ with instruments and the lovely lyrics in Jagjit Singh’s ghazal is what moves you; the earthy nature and such strong classical base of kailash kher’s songs are simply worth all your adulation. I have attended performances of bands like Euphoria and Indian Ocean at college and the energy on-stage of a band ‘playing’ with their song is so infectious. The strong melodic notes of Rafi Saab, the effortlessness and sweetness of Lataji’s voice, the soft well-trained voice of Sonu Nigam, the cheerful voice of Shaan, the  versatility of Sunidhi Chauhan and so many other singers who have sung very few songs but made an impact…. the list is very long.

I think music of old Hindi films is as good as its contemporary counterpart. You can find gems in either category if your taste is fairly flexible. There are times when you admire the oldies for their un-congested (read simple), melody-centric and heavy-lyric-base nature. And new ones for some amazing instrumental quality in terms of the variety of instruments used as well as their gelling together so well, some strong professional vocals and experimentation (like switching between several scales etc.). Melody, of course remains the major ingredient for a good song.

As for Western music, I admit that I am not that great a follower but yes there are 1 in 10 songs that make an impact. There are specific times when you want to hear to English numbers only, for a change. There is not a favourite singer but favourite songs in western music, for me. Celine Dion, Enrique, Cranberries etc. are great to listen to. I cannot identify with rock music, though I like some numbers of Linking Park (if you call it rock i.e.; the rap of ‘In the end’ being a hostel-time favourite!!)

Lyrics play a major (though not imperative) role in music. In fact, ghazals rely on this for effect. Beautiful poetry weaved in notes can actually transport you to vicarious joy or sorrow or some feelings which cannot be categorized at all. Consider Mirza Ghalib by Jagjit Singh or ‘A new day has come’ by Celine Dion or ‘Sarfaroshi ki tamanna’ by A R Rehman or ‘Zihale maski mukum barnajish’ by Gulzar. The words have all the power here for the receptive ear.   

Still, there are times when Instrumental music is what you prefer. Whether in a cozy north Indian restaurant, it’s the piano by Brian Silas or the Spanish guitar resonating in the background of a coffee house, or some mellifluous flute in the car on a long drive on a rain-washed highway, you just don’t want any words to interrupt the song sometimes.

Classical music is something I cannot appreciate very much. I have had the privilege of attending live concerts of Indian stalwarts at SPIC MACAY’s national convention. Their dedication is unparalleled, the ‘riyaaz’ so inspiring but somehow I cannot feel the impact I expect from music. Another point is that the kind of discipline or tolerance that is expected out of you as an audience or student in classical music is too much for me. Although, I love the semi-classical effects that are tried out in ghazals or bhajans or some songs of Rehman (esp.).

Bathroom singing is another very important stream of music that I wish to discuss . You see, the entire feel here is different, the effort so relaxed. Most of the mortals sing while taking bath, however, some even do it while attending their nature calls to add to the relief. But the sheer joy of singing and dancing under a shower in an absolutely I-give-no-damn tribal-attitude, caring little for the neighbours or the queue outside(in case of a hostel) is absolutely refreshing and sometimes a great stress-buster. I read somewhere that ‘the length of a minute depends on which side of the bathroom door you are on!!’ - can’t agree more. To add to the effect you can try playing ‘dafli’ on the base of the mug while singing, trust me, it sounds great. Somehow, due to the presence of water and a closed small room, the acoustics are better here… Err, enough Avi!! this is not ‘in jocular vein!!’

I sing and it’s my pride. It’s one thing that I shall remain grateful to God for till my last breath. To have an ‘ear’ for music. I sing for all, but more for myself. My songs are my companion in solitude. They are my true friends, my stress-busters, my mid-night buddies, my dance partners…. my beloved. There have been instances in the past when I performed in front of huge crowds of several thousands at college festivals, mostly impromptu. The artistic felicity is over-powering on such occasions. It’s what makes you forget stage-fear though the initial ‘butterflies’ are inevitable. It’s a creative high to introduce my songs with my couplets, render maximum expression to my performance and ‘play’ with the notes or rhythm of my song(as if its my creation, my baby).

I feel eager to try my hand at musical instruments like keyboard or guitar or ‘table.’ I started with CASIO SA-21 as a kid and worked out 3 film songs on day 1, I remember. Then in college, I got a big Givson guitar which got broken after a couple of years. Now I have a very handy Givson guitar which I bought from my second salary, as planned. I am generally uncomfortable (or less dedicated) with the concept of learning music formally. I have tried this in case of guitar for short spans but somehow the motivation fades out (therefore I cannot play bar chords !!).  With respect to percussion, there are some tables which sound better than others (insight!!); for instance, my classroom tables at college used to sound better than the canteen ones. Out here in work, the tables in boardrooms sound amazing (ok, now you know how much I study or work!!). I’ve had such memorable night-outs in hostel rooms over jamming together with guitars and vocals, one song leading to other spontaneously.  I like different kinds of music in different moods, though I am quite in raptures with ‘ghazals’ and ‘indi-pop’ bands, the energy levels being such a contrast between the two. I often link music to some other hobbies of mine like dance, creative writing, reading etc. I have had some wonderful buddies in music and it’s such fun hanging out together.

All in all, that’s what my love affair with music is like and I hope to have the most musical quest for life. Someone just asked “Hey Avi, have you heard ‘Bavra mann dekhne chala ek sapna’ from Hazaron Khwaishen Aisi??’ and guess what, I already sense something lovely coming my way…. again.

 

Serendipity at Shivpuri

There are times when you wish to break away from the rat-race of big metros, escape from the nine to whatever routine, feel closer to life and refresh your spirits. And if you are a young employee full of zeal and somewhat of a travel-freak, the party is all yours. Our company’s annual river-rafting trip to Rishikesh (Shivpuri to be precise) proved to be just that.

It was a Friday night when we, a big gang of 50, enthusiastically began our journey in a bus that soon turned into a jukebox . Singing throughout, playing ‘antakshari’ in our own style, we halted midway at some ‘dhabas’ at around 4 in the night to have mid-night tea, ‘parathas’ and maggi reminding us of hostel night-outs. We reached Haridwar just before the Sun-god, took a dip in the holy Ganges and offered our prayers. What a rejuvenating feel it was to see the Sun rise in the hills. Then climbing up the treacherous roads of the hills, we reached our base camp at Shivpuri.  

It was a very close-to-nature and energizing sort of feel as we explored the location which had a Wordsworthian romance in it all. Beautiful white sandy banks surrounded by hills and a very clean and green Ganges making its way through the river-wide valley. The absence of any mobile phone networks and electricity for once, felt like ‘relief.’ Within no time we were out in our sports-wear to play volleyball and cricket and dive in the soft sand (in either sport). Afterwards, we chilled out (literally and otherwise !!) in the downstream waters where our digi-cams got into action. Besides, capturing the group in amusing poses, it’s an absolute treat for any photography lover at such places to indulge in landscape photography and experiment. Right after a wholesome lunch, we were ready for instructions on rafting(it sounded damn exciting to first-timers) with our helmets and life-jackets on- a Greek army-like attire with pedals as long as the swords and each one of us feeling no less than Achilles . This was supposed to be the tougher of the two rafting trips as it had fiercer rapids.

‘FORWARD AGAIN, FORWARD !!’ was the command of the instructor to rock the raft and ‘GET DOWN !!’ in case the raft gets rocked . We grasped the game much more quickly than coding and made our way as a team (in the real sense) through one rapid after the other, meanwhile getting naughty, ‘water-fighting’ nearby rafts, playing pedal-chase, floating in the chilly waters(holding the rope of the raft) etc. But now, it was the most violent rapid by the name of Golf-Course (‘fate it seemed wasn’t without a sense of irony!!’). We were warned that our raft could topple here and so it did tossing off three of our raft leaders into the gushing waters. I, being one of the few guys left in the raft, tried diligently to stabilize it by vigorous rowing and just making it through that stretch of the rapid. I could see the fear-of-death on the faces of those in the water- petrified and getting dragged by gushing waters to God-knows-where. Fortunately all were rescued within ten minutes.

We proceeded ahead to jump off a cliff into the river (as if ‘golf’ wasn’t enough!! ). Very few of us could achieve the feet which seemed like a mere ‘Warning’ from the raft down in the river but a ‘Severity 1 Error’ from the cliff, up there . But for those who did it, boy, it was a real sense of accomplishment. Esp. if you happen to be a hydrophobic, acrophobic and non-swimmer  like  me .

We returned enervated to our camps. Almost night by now, we gathered for the bonfire and guitar, songs and soups. Some of us went for a late ‘evening walk’ to a jungle (almost) in the hills with their lanterns. A cool star-lit night sky it was with the gentle crash of breaking waves up on the bank. We had never recognized so many constellations before. People formed small circles near the bonfire- one of beer buddies, one of guitar & songs and others of chit-chat.

Next day, we left for Rishikesh, spent some time swinging on the ‘Ram Jhula’, had a wholesome meal at ‘Chotiwaala’ and then were back in the bus for the second round of our musical journey. We halted midway at the beautiful gardens of ‘Cheetal’ and were back in Delhi at 12 in the night on Sunday. Wow, what a weekend !!  

The hang-over was strong and so it had to be. As, an awesome trip it was which could not only help us unwind but also come close as a team. To sum it up, with adventure at its best and memories so vivid, it was nothing but serendipity at Shivpuri.  I recall the words of Disraeli… ‘Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.’ 

–(Apr 2006)

The GDPI fun !!

The supposedly exacting and much-hyped B-school interviews are actually real fun to go through. Here’s an account of one such recent experience of mine at one of the best schools (as ranked by the reputed ‘Punjab Kesari Annual B-school survey’). It’s kind of unsettling as one fine morning of March, you dress up in formals (despite being on leave from office) and head towards a campus (after long) with butterflies in stomach and elephants in head (!!) with a feel of a redolent nostalgia of good, old college days. On hitting the campus, you get to see some bubbly freshers in the group and suddenly are drawn to a frustrating self-image of an old, rotten rat and just hope that you would be able to impress the panel on grounds of ‘maturity of a professional’ (obviously oblivious of its meaning or feeling !!). Knowledge-wise, you prepare on a wide spectrum of topics on general awareness, gulp down the editorials of The Hindu, stuff in facts and figures about the GDP, at the same time missing the figures of page 3 of DT so much… Err… Focus Avi…

And so it happens, that when the topic for GD is declared, you deeply empathize with Alice in wonderland. Still worse, when you are picked up to declare the GD topic to the group being in the centre of the semi-circle– ‘JUDICIAL ACTIVISM IS GOOD FOR INDIA. ‘And like many other GDs when I was blissfully ignorant of the topic, I had to play on my ‘other’ skills (in the absence of content), more like ‘the referee of a WWE match’ sometimes and ‘Sachin bowling a few overs here and there’ sometimes. And to my amusement, I found different kinds of enlightened(!!) souls out there which I would like to tag, for the sake of sketching the GD scene for you, as follows based on something special about their communication styles :-
BD: Barkha Dutt
MS: Malikka Sherawat
NP: Nana Patekar
OA: Omar Abdullah
KJ: Karan Johar And the rest (read mortals!!) were too original in their style to share it with the group.

The GD–
MS: good morning friends….
NP: the topic here is….
BD (springs up amidst the voices which dare to start): let’s understand ‘activism’ first before we…. the ‘9th schedule’ of the Indian constitution states… amendments… judiciary-executive-legislature tussle…
Me: (ok, so Einstein’s theory of relativity wasn’t all that bad!! )
MS: I agree with her on that. But before that what is ‘judicial’?? (Why not “what is ‘good’ or what is ‘India’… I wonder!!)
Chorus begins….
KJ: I believe cases like that of Jessica lal n Mattoo… I mean the sheer arrogance with which such a flagitious act was committed…
Me: (some names tickling me to break out of my amnesia…)
Cry of a mortal to the panel: “Mr. Moderator I request you to give me a chance to speak for 1 min. as I have not spoken at all!!”
(But the group ignoring him like an umpire turning down the appeal of a bowler not finding it fit to be an ‘appeal’ at all… )
NP: we have already wasted 5 minutes here… and… I don’t understand what we are arriving at…
Chorus again…
Me: at the same time the public opinion created about these cases… the stir, the protests, the blogs on net…
OA: precisely. And adding to that…
Me: please let me complete here…
OA: ya let me complete…
Me: just let me complete…
OA: please let me complete…
Me: please listen…
…. Goes on for some 15 seconds (Crescendo building up….) till….

Me: OK, I WILL COMPLETE IT FOR YOU, essentially what you are trying to say is…. (Few smiles here and there!!)
Panel: thank you group, you all may leave.
(The storm got over…)

Frankly, I like the concept of a GD before an interview as it kind of warms up your vocal chords (if you happen to be a part of the noise, that is) and you feel delusively confident about chatting with the panel irrespective of your knowledge.

The interview–
2 professors n 1 alumnus(P1, P2, P3.. no links to Intel but apparently all were P5 and I was wondering how to ace the 4th ‘P’ of marketing (read Promotion) for myself) grinning in front of me and munching potato chips as if starved since last year’s interviews.

P1: Abhinav… Err… avi… nav… Is this misspelled?
Me (smiling): No sir. Avinav and Abhinav are different… (I miss the traditional “tell us something about yourself…” so much!!)
P1: what does it mean??
Me (saw it coming): Sir… ‘Avi’ is derived from ‘ravi’, the Sanskrit word for Sun and ‘nav’ means new… so when you combine it means someone who is bright and has an ever-new disposition like the Sun ( boy, that waz cool !! )
P1 (amazed): Did you make it up or is that true??
Me (confident): It’s true sir… (Man, wasn’t that cool, after all!!)
P3: so I should take you for my co. Aditya Vikram Birla group as we have the Sun as our logo (grins)…
Me: Pleasure will be all mine, sir (grin back)
P1(to P3): you’ve started your company’s marketing here also, haan?? (Some more grins)
(Laughter in chorus …!)
Me: (being patient… what kind of humour do these guys relish…..eeeeeeee)
P2: so Avinav, what do u do?
Me: sir I work for… as a… designing this n that… handling client… optimizing… (Couldn’t mention orkutting or bloggin or social loafing after all, though they happen to be my core competencies!! )
P1: so Avinav what do you think about India vs. china …. GDP…. Budget…. (Ask me ‘why MBA’ people… please!!)
Me: India is going great guns… GDP rocking… Budget thumbs down… boo… bla bla bla…
P2: ok tell me 3 problems this country is facing and what will you do to rectify them
Me: (bingo… Avi start…) illiteracy… trade deficit… farmer suicides… (neat statistics… Bowled!!)
(Appreciation smiles!! me inflated like the guy in ‘timesjob.com’ ad!! )
P1: what is 25 in German? (Boy, he scanned my essay form with a microscope I think…)
Me: sir vierundzwanzig (pronounced as ‘fear oond swansish’… that’s 24, btw!! )
P1: hmm (grins!!)
Me (idiot tell me yes/no/$&$#)
P3: as you know that the next World Cup is being held in West Indies and-
Me: sorry sir I don’t follow Cricket… (Sacrilege!!)
–P2 gets up and pulls up his trousers… I thought ‘get ready to be bashed up Avi, here’s another cricket aficionado!!’ fortunately he turned and left the room to attend to nature… –
P3: What? (How dare you!!) Well even if you don’t, you must be aware of this much that the next World cup cricket is in West Indies?
Me: yes sir… (Bring on; fire where it hurts the most!!)
P3: ok, what I want to ask you is that where is West Indies?
Me: (Aha geography!!)… Sir somewhere there between north and South America
P3: will you name a couple of countries comprising West Indies?
Me: ( Damn it !! I always thought West Indies is ’one’ country.. avi, are they trying to play with you ?? Trinidad..Err…Tobago…it’s somewhere there only… no it must be a different country… confusion…)  Not sure, sir!!
P3: (sipping ‘thanda’…) hehehe… thank you, you may leave.
Me: thank you sir

And in case that condensed account of my ragging was not enough to tickle you, guess what, I GOT SELECTED!!

Sketching….

I’m not gifted with a hand

That plays with the palette

Brings life on canvas

Nor the one that carves out

Expressions in sculptures

And through the chisel makes them talk

But I observe, I visualize

And often feel like sketching

With a vocabulary that’s immature but willing

To give form to a thought on paper

The scenes from my mind

Through ink that loves to flows….

I sit stretched on an armchair

In the placidity of my veranda

Much above the ground

As if hanging detached somewhere

In the cacophony of city around me

It’s the pause in an afternoon

Of a much-needed holiday

When the warmth of the rays

Seeps through my skin

And a creative mind

Egotistical in nature

Unrelenting in its self-belief

Wants to let it go….

There hangs a sweet wind-chime above me

Reflecting the sun’s rays

As if it owns them

Swinging hand-in-hand with the breeze

As if dancing with its beloved

To produce notes of music

As soft as some raindrops

Falling from the straw

Of a drenched hut in a farm….

Completely oblivious of the crashing sensex

Couple of pigeons are busy gathering

Some grains from the pot there

Few drops of water from another one

Meanwhile winking, keeping an eye

On the sole human figure staring at them

There comes another bird I don’t know

Lands on my hanging shirt

Its dark claws on the light collar

She is black and yellow and in queue

Looking out for an opportunity to munch

But asked to wait

Like an impatient kid in the playground

Before it gets a turn to play….

Looking at the green

An array of plants rest in peace

Some adorned by nature with flowers bright

Others with values not so evident

Much like the people we meet

Much like the moments we come across….

The chime, the birds, the plants

This afternoon of the veranda is a constant

It was like this a decade back

And will be the same a decade hence

What is a slave of change

Is the hand that sketches

The mind that feels, thinks

Why it does, is a question eternal

May be useless, may be impractical

Or may be essential for the sake of art

But either way, a seeking

Which is the essence of life

And all the more powerful

As what it could capture for some time

Is time, the invincible

Is time, the leveller….

( in a mood that’s too free-flowing to consider sturcture or rhyme (for a change !!) @ C-605, Apr- 2007 )

अर्ज़ करता हुं कि….

Here’s a compilation of few couplets composed during few of my special moments.. hope you ‘ll enjoy reading.. haan, kuch mehsoos karein ya mujhse ittefaq rakhein to zaroor arz kijiyega..

-

गर्मियों की बेचैन शामों में जब
मौसम खुशनुमा होता है
आशिकी अंगड़ायी लेती है
यादों से रंगीन समां होता है
आलम तनहाई का ही सही
इस कसक में भी अपना मज़ा होता है
नर्म हवाओं के झोंकों में
इक आरज़ू सांस लेती है
इक शायर जवां होता है

(C-201, BH1 ki ek shaam mein.. wo hostel ke din..)

(may’05)

————————————————————————

हर दिन मुनासिब नहीं होता
हर रात जवां नहीं होती
वक्त तो गुज़र जाता है पर
हर ज़ख्म की दवा नहीं होती
चलता तो है इंसान दिल में अरमां लिये पर
हर राह की किस्मत मंज़िल नहीं होती
गम तो आ जाता है दिल में बिन बुलाए
इक ज़रा-सी खुशी हासिल नहीं होती

(ghar pe der raat kuch bikhra hua sa..)

(feb’07)

————————————————————————

सर्दियों कि रात में ये बारिश
दीवाना बना देती है
तेरी याद है कि चाय को भी
पैमाना बना देती है
नशीली सर्द हवा मेरे कमरे को
मयखाना बना देती है
तनहाई के इस आलम में तेरी जुस्तजू
समां शायराना बना देती है

(mera pehla sher.. kisi khaas ki yaad mein..)

(oct’04)