Saturday, 4 June 2016

The story of two pictures...

They parted ways. He stood there thinking what could have been, and what it will be. He wanted to open his heart out, but words failed him. He had a picture he had framed for her.

Together they walked hand-in-hand and the picture read

"Life has a meaning when we live in a moment,
You learn to live when every moment is a dream…
Here’s a cheers to many more moments, many more dreams, to life, and the lovely journey ahead…."

He gifted the picture, kissed her forehead and left.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months- they had lost touch, but not a day passed when she was not remembered. Life has its own way- what was once the greatest joy was now the saddest thoughts. He laughed remembering them, cried thinking about times, and let the moment pass.

They meet again. He is back in the same room where once the best moments were spent. His partying picture occupies a part of the wall. Does she still remember him, Do his thoughts make her happy, Is he missed, is he still loved. He stands sinking in the moments as she slowly hands over his remains and shyly gestures him to leave. As he turns he sees a bigger picture on the opposite wall. He reads only glimpses of this new picture, and understands he has lost her forever. Tears roll down, and life goes on...


Lover peace out!!!

Wednesday, 30 March 2016

River of Life...

My profession gives me the opportunity to assist people to reflect on their past to build a better future. Sounds interesting, difficult, and philosophical- in life a great medium to reduce negativity and infuse positive energy in someone. No, I am not a psychologist and neither remote related with any therapy- I am the regular HR guy who takes a keen interest in behavioral science- fancy name ‘OD’.

Why is the above ‘bla bla’ about myself important? It is for you to understand that I know a few principles on behavior, and have designed such sessions (fancy word ‘interventions’), which made me belief am slightly above such reflections (insaan hoon, a bit of arrogance creeping in is natural with time).

Well that’s the story till yesterday afternoon! A HR capability building session had been scheduled in my current organization, and I was a part of it. The agenda talked about something on lines of knowing one’s own beliefs through journalism, storytelling and other means. Intrigued and excited I walked into the session. Initial bits of the session were usual- the clever/smart ass me trying to guess what’s going to happen ‘next’ (function of designing a few such sessions myself).

A feeling of sadness started creeping in- “I am not enjoying this…I wish I didn’t know what’s next…”. Few physical movements (part of the workshop), some basic reflection questions, and I knew I was getting in a zone in which I am not comfortable…The Artist Was Being Painted…We slowly moved into an activity which was called ‘River of Life’. Imagine life was a river, has a starting point (your birth), has ups and down, but keep flowing…How will you paint it…

As I drew detaching from self, memories- good and bad, started crawling their way back. What I drew cannot be shared, but when I read the patterns, I understood that there is a part of me I had lost in the last 3 years. The ‘right brain’ me had got scared, and happily hid Himself somewhere behind a safe closet. This post is an attempt to bring Him back…bring back the Arthur…bring back the Precisionist…


Reflectionist peace out! 

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

Last Few Months


“Last Few Months”- a bit obvious for the title of a blog post. Well, when you have made enough promises to yourself and your friends to write and not lived upto them, you need a grand post to include all that you have seen and been part of in the recent past. So putting on my writing hat (which color will a writing hat be Mr. Edward Bono!), this is my honest attempt to win back hearts.

Hyderabad will have a special place in my heart, never had I imagined. Staying in one of the “high ends” of the city, I lived seven months of pure happiness and joy. Colleagues became brother (yes Mr. RRB, I am looking at you), re-united with my first love – weekend cricket matches with the best team you can play with, evening hangouts, roommates or family; Hyderabad you beauty. As winter passed by, I slowly packed and left for Delhi in late January. Three days in and I am off to Jim Corbett National Park. Well what else you can expect from Delhi!

If I write a detailed narration of the all that has happened in the “last few months”, I am sure you are going to give this read a pass- let’s be honest, I am no Dan Brown! So most memorable “laughs and cry” is what you will read next. Going back to Jim Corbett (JC) – JC is the oldest national park in India - 1936, is spread over 521 sq. km and divided in four major routes- Bijrani, Dhikala, Jhirna and Sitabani. Though Jim Corbett is one of the most visited national parks in the country, spotting is difficult, if not impossible. Contemplate this thought as we revisit Memory 1.

“When you are in the hunt, of all things, you need to be quiet and discreet.”

Standing in a watch tower, we are clicking picks, cracking jokes, enjoying the beauties of nature, when I notice the guide from the Safari frantically waving at me. The Guide (I forget his name- I am awful with names) is a guy in his mid-twenties. He and I have struck a bond- the love for wildlife – the thread. As we reach him in the next 2 minutes, he whispers that there is a dear call (what are calls, there types- is a post for a different day). With keen ears I listen too, and after few seconds, I hear one. We board the jeep right-away and we are off, following the calls. This is a good time to introduce my co-travelers: ABC, Rathod Sir, Dodo, Farhan and Rajesh; for most of them, the first wildlife experience. So to keep them quiet during the chase was a task in itself (Dodo- I am looking at you!). Call after call, we are on the right track.


On the road for 5 minutes, we now hear a monkey call. The jeep slows down, and it seems as if we now crawling our way forward. We stop the jeep and wait. This is where you enjoy the chase the most – the WAIT. You know HE is out there, watching you, but you still wait for that one glance when you can see “the mighty knight” in his elegant best, not behind stupid bars. After waiting a while (I had lost count of how long we stood still), we finally hear foot-steps. Loud and clear, expected to cross the path 20 meters in front of us.


All of us stand still, in absolute silence, as the beast takes one slow step at a time and one can feel his existence mere 10 meters behind the bush. There runs a mixed emotion- the pure ecstasy of the spot, the fear of an attack. We would see him in the next minute or two, when out of nowhere we hear engine roars and human chatter. Dig a hole and burry the morons. Realizing us missing, the others followed the jeep tyre marks from the watch tower and have found us. Remember being discreet was a key to success. The noise alerted the beast and we could clearly hear him settling down behind the bush. We waited for a long time, and soon darkness started creeping-in. The guide advised us to leave, and even after relentless coaxing, the driver drove us off the jungle. Highly disappointed, I decided upon the next wildlife destination – Gir, I had heard spotting is easy, and seeing a beauty in the real midst was driving me crazy. For this episode, as they say, So Close Yet So Far!



Gir – the only national sanctuary in Asia where you will find Asiatic lion – rare species, majestic creation! Gir is 347 kms. from Ahmedabad, and a close to five hours drive from it. With “Shubhaarambh” playing all day long (thanks to our favorite Dj KD), it was one of my best drives till day. As soon as you cross the Ahmedabad, you see the industrial area and realize why the state has progressed leaps and bounds in the last decade. Exhausted and thrilled we reach Gir close to 9 in the evening. The hunt for adulterated water is what occupies the next hour, and when you have KD in the house, you can be rest assured, someone’s cleaning the washroom early morning. What follows is a hilarious night, a night I have coined as “The Dark Night”, the details are an intentional miss, no eyebrows raised please!

“Why can’t I move my lips, why are tears rolling, Am I going to freeze to death?”

All true emotions felt and lived as I sat on the back seat of an open jeep. It’s close to 6 in the morning and we have already driven close to thirty minutes to be at the gates of the reserve. With the normal formalities in check - visitor entry permits, random identification proof demand, we are in. A km. into the wild, we spot two bikes standing next to each other. Few moments later, we stand next to the bikes and the guide strikes a conversation with the guards in native Gujarati. The guide turns around, and with a broad smile, announces it’s our lucky day- 3 lions are sitting behind the busy. Overwhelmed with joy I strike a conversation with the guide (an old man), who narrates that out of the three two are old ones and one is just a “boy”. The shine and color of beard helps one to comprehend the age of lions. Soon we see, three mighty beats slowly strolling towards us. By this time, a party has assembled around us, and one can see those DSLRs out and operational. The beast, mere 10 meter away from us slowly sits on the ground, and the guide tells us that they are not going to move till the evening. For the beast, our existence had no importance, “one of those ants whom I can crash anytime I want”.

We move on, and after driving through another fifteen minutes, we again spot a bike. We find another forest ranger next to the bike who states that a couple is sitting behind. We turn our sight to the particular direction, and witness the mating. A sad feeling creeps in- where is the CHASE, where is the fun of spotting, you just have to keep your eyes open for the forest rangers and their bikes, or collect information of their whereabouts. Yes I have seen the “king of the jungle” but this no fun matched to the chase of “the knight”. A crestfallen me, is waiting for the safari to end, when I am made to realize the kings might- Memory 2.

We are driving our way up an elevated path. One can see the tip of the road, beyond it is the sky. Slowly, the jeep is making its way up, when out of the bush steps in THE LION. Crossing the path at a pace that suits him the best, he is on his way back to the den. This is the return- the evening return after spending the day in bright sunshine. A hundred meters down the path, the driver kills the engine. The sound of the engine alerts the mighty and he slowly turns his head towards us. The only thing visible now at the horizon is the head of the heavenly beast. I am transfixed by his gaze, and it is as if he is reading my scared mind, asking him for his forgiveness. You are too insignificant a living being to be killed my me, I am in no mood to kill today, I let you live your pitiable life- I could read all in his eyes. It is then that I realized why a lion is called the “King of the Jungle”- the lazy elegance.

The next post will throw light on few more “laughs and cry”. Life’s pretty interesting at the moment – the beauty of balancing and keeping everyone happy!

To be continued…

Traveler: Peace Out!!! 

 

 

Friday, 19 July 2013

Roles Reversed


In the last little over 26 years, I have seen many aspects which are considered normalcy in life. The facet may be right or wrong, but we have accepted them as part of life, and “moved on”. Haven’t we all seen parents compelling their children to live/relive their own dreams, politicians milking money at the expense of the common man, males of the society having the final say! What is refreshing , is when one witnesses wheels reversed.

Before we dwell on this any further, it is imperative I give you an account of the day when it all happened. The Bengali bug in me compelled me to appear for the UGC NET examination. Taking a second attempt at it (the failed first attempt was a gift from the Indian Postal Service whose benevolence ensured that the admit card reached my house 10 days after the examination day), I made my way a mere 25 km away from my abode. An early Sunday morning paper is a curse for folks whose Saturday nights end late. A sleep deprived long journey meant I was already sick and muted as I stepped in the examination center. What followed is a joke! I have no other word for a basic MCQ examination which can be cracked by a novice on his lucky day, and the examination is expected to bring forth professors who are going to shape the future of the country and the Gen Z. Disgusted and lamenting on my brilliance , I boarded the train back to the “high rise”. Metro greeted me with scores of co-travelers chattering and discussing the UGS NET paper (I realized passing the UGC NET is far more coveted that I expected). Feeling sick, I made my way to a corner and plugged in loud old school rock.    
A metro ride which was getting worse with every passing second, got miserable when two guys stepped in at INA. They are the young Delhiites (I am no racist, neither do I discriminate, but describing them anything else would be grave injustice to them). A caption round neck T, narrow tapered led-hugging jeans, Mohawk, studs, rimless spec, loud and lavish, both of them busy looking at their tabs and bragging about them. And I thought how worse can it get- crowded, fetid and loud.

In Saket, walked in a beautiful young lady- a lovely dress hanging loose on her frame, a wrap, stilettos, big mystic eyes, ebony curly hair caressing her back, burberry in one hand, a handset in another. The rush on every station led to the lady standing right next to the guys- smile on their face revealed the happiness, the lech. With push on every passing station, the lady soon stood right between the two guys. The smile got bigger, the sneer got wider. One could feel the distress the lady was in- the thugs, the push, the elbow. I could feel temper rising in me, when suddenly the roles reversed. The lady took off her wrap and looked straight in the eyes of one of them. The stare was that of disdain, disrespect; admonishing the two. Soon it appeared she felt comfortable and I thought to myself, “She is actually enjoying this”! She was happily speaking over the phone, while the two with sheepish eyes watched her every movement. I saw her as she intentionally dropped her handset and the two rushed to pick it up. It was a master and her two slaves. I watched all this and started laughing myself. An elated, satisfied, content numb crept in. After a long day, I was happy at last.

I de-boarded at Sikanderpur and made my way to the exit. As I stepped out, I saw the young lady in a tight embrace with a tall lanky guy. Was it her fiancĂ©, her husband, her boyfriend, her brother, I will let you decide. To me she was the new Indian women.

Humanist: Peace Out!!!

Sunday, 30 June 2013

Hibernation - Period...


Lazy, apathy, boredom, work- I can think of a lot of excuse for my absence.  But for anything that I say would not justify this hibernation. So my beloved “friend, philosopher and guide” (the phase that is reserved for my regular readers) - apologies for this absence.

To start, allow me to share what turns life has taken in the last few months. Foremost, I am back in Delhi/Gurgaon; staying in one of those “high rises” – beauty sure, life none.


Friends have got married, are getting married, will be marrying soon- not far are the days when my wedding bells can be heard too. Work is usual – long hours with intermittent exciting sparks. Love for cricket is rejuvenated- won a tournament, scored a century.

Now, why this blog today! To be honest, had an hour to kill in an examination- had a blank page in front of me- a pen in my hand! I could have slept or wrote, I chose the latter.

There are a few promised blogs in the pipeline, but I am finding it difficult to pen  down my thoughts. So I urge you to propose what would be an exciting read- what should I write next. Suggestions???

Contemplating me: Is this Crowd Sourcing? J

Monday, 17 December 2012

Mera Chain Bain Sab Ujda ,Jaalim Nazar Hata le

Marriages are made in heaven, and to be part of them is always fun. Family and friends singing, dancing; and then there is always a “Dadi ka dance” and “Rum Rum Rum Whiskey”. Well this post is not about
marriages but the “Marriage” plays a big role. The following all happened during a marriage and it is for a marriage.
Readers who have taken the liberty to go through all my posts would remember the RADICALS. Well it’s time I introduce the first of them and perhaps the most influential one- “His Eminence (HE)”.
Back in my B-School days HE was the first man I was impressed with. An extremely confident man who knows what he wants from life- a trait I highly cherish. HE defines pragmatism and you need to be his family or a RADICAL to see his beautiful emotional side. I have seen him happy many-a times but the happiness I saw during a marriage was parallel to none. With a “bottoms-up” we set the ball rolling. Dancing
our way into the night, we ensured everyone around had the time of a lifetime.

Fortunately/ unfortunately it was the marriage of his would-a-be brother-in-law. So when sense prevailed and the cold vibes could be felt from all around, reality sunk it. What the hell did we just do and “LET’S MANAGE”. Impressions matter a lot in Indian marriages and it was time HE showed all what he really was. Next day, on the reception, lost grounds had to be won again. So HE, me and our Darling, were the first ones to reach the venue. “What if folks from the girl side reached the venue and found no one from the boy’s side.” We made the numbers (LMAO as I relive the moment and write). One by one, the guests started pouring in and the DJ played the Masala Bollywood songs. Soon, as we never existed, we got mingled in the crowd. The plan was to keep a low profile. Sometimes no attention is all that you need in life. But who could escape the hawk-eyes of would-a-be father-in-law. With one eye always fixed on his daughters, he went about greeting the guests. And in this opportune moment, theDJ plays:

"Mera Chain Bain Sab Ujda ,
Jaalim Nazar Hata le..."

The three of us looked at each other and burst out laughing. It was an honest, happy laugh, the ones that comes straight from the heart and is remembered years-to-year. The rest of the night was as planned- an
uneventful one except for the 1 km walk at a deserted road at midnight and the questioning by soldiers for being on road at that point of the day. By the time we reached back to our rooms and remembered “teachers”, HE was extremely happy with his performance. Such was his resolve that even after Darling had tried his best to impure him during the reception, HE was all NO.The result: we are categorized as extremely well disciplined and civilized.

I don’t know how the war would fare, but am sure HE won the first battle.

Precisionist: Peace Out!!!

Saturday, 13 October 2012

The Birth Place of Love...

I am no Romeo. Nor am I Majnu. Neither am I some living legend of love. But like many other people in this world, the word 'love' affects me. And when I think of where and how has it originated (shows how much free time I have nowadays), I am certain of one fact. "Love might not have been invented in India, it was certainly perfected here."

I would not even make an attempt of defining “the four letter word". Fools are those who do it. Small things make the big difference, and if you feel good and happy, all is well. I take an auto every day for my work. Among many other auto drivers, an elderly man takes me to work often. In the last 3 months, I have come to know that he has a son and a daughter whom he is trying to give a life better than his own. He needs to save money for his son's higher education and for the dowry he needs to pay to ensure his daughter gets married well. There have been times when he is in a bargain with some other "want-to-be" passenger, but as soon as he sees me, I am the preferred back seat owner. I have at times tried to give him more than the usual daily fare, but he would each time refuse, saying he is just doing his job and ensuring "a son" reached office in time. Is this love, who am I to judge. But acts like this are priceless.

In a country, where everyone is cribbing about what is not good and how corrupt we are, there are people like this elderly auto driver ( to do list task 1- ask his name next time), who make me belief that Indians care for each other is an envy for most other nationals. The fact that most children in India still want to live with their parents and build their dreams around them, say a thing or two. The reality that strangers go a long way to help you at times of your misery ( I am sure we all have heard or experienced it), is a rarity in most parts of the world.

Let us be proud of what we have. Yes there are problems, and we should write and talk about them. The Baba's and Robbie's of the world will always squander with the hard earned tax payers money. But let us not forget we have the likes of Medha Patkar and Aruna Roy too who keep the Indian ‘love’ spirit alive. 

Optimist: Peace out!!!