The Wish

“Carnatic music runs in my blood. My great grand-father Kumabakonam Vaithyanathan Iyer was a musical genius. It is said the late Governor General Rajagopalachari stood up and applauded when he heard my great grand-father sing at the Tyagaraja Aradhana music festival. My grand-father Kumbakonam Pattabhiraman Iyer was the first in our family to travel outside of India. He has performed in front of the Queen of the England. My father Kumbakonam Ananthanarayanan Iyer won the Padma Vibhushan award for vocal music,” said Kumbakonam Venkataramani Iyer. There was pride in his voice and his eyes lit up when he spoke about his musical lineage.

Suddenly his head dropped and his shoulders slouched. He shook his head and let out a big sigh.

“My son Parthasarathy,” he said in a low tone,” does not have an iota of music in him. After six generations the line has been broken. I have tried everything possible, but I guess the Lord has other plans. Some of the most prominent playback singers and musicians today are my students. But my son has turned out to be a dud.”

“Please do not say that Venkataramani. Did you see the photos Sarathy has taken? They have appeared in the National Geographic magazine. It has made him famous, “ said Bala Gopalan. “Today he has made a name for himself. Maybe there is another destiny for him.”

“Another destiny?  What does Kumbakonam Venkataramani ‘s son do? He takes pictures of snakes and butterflies. Great! Do you know how frustrating it is when I go out?  People laugh behind my back. I put my head down in shame when people me ask about my son. I understand your situation Bala. After all, your daughter Shyamala is married to Parthasarathy. You have been a good friend for so many years, tell me, what sin have I committed to have a son like this. Sometimes I wish I never had such a son.”

“Please do not say that Ramani. Do you know how frustrating it for Sarathy to be able to not sing? There were many days when he used to come home and cry sitting on the thinnai. Since the last ten years both of you have neither spoken nor seen each other. What will be, will be. Change is the necessity of life Ramani and maybe it’s time to let go of your ego. You wife Sarasa has also lived in pain for many years and she is torn between you and her son. Now there is a good reason as well. If not for your son or your wife, at least for your six month old grand-daughter. “

There was a long silence. “You are right Bala. What will be, will be. I have no heir. Please do not come here again as Parthasarathy’s father-in-law. However you are always welcome as a friend.” Saying so Venkataramani got up from the chair and walked out of the room.

The bright white light enveloped him. Surprisingly the light provided him not heat but a tingling sense of coolness. He was floating in the white light. “Am I in a dream or is this reality?” he thought….

“You have a chance to change your life.” 

He quickly turned around to see where the voice came from. But he found no one….

“Who is this?” he asked.

“The question to ask my dear friend is, do you want to change your life?”

“Tell me who you are and what do you want,” he demanded.

“Well, consider me a,” the voice paused,” a well-wisher. So, do you want the chance to change your life?”

“I have a good life. A loving wife, a beautiful daughter, a good job and great friends. What more can I ask for? Why should I change my life?”

“Tell me, do you love music?”

“Yes. Who doesn’t?”

“How about a chance to be able to sing. Be better than you father. Earn his pride and redeem yourself. What if you were given a chance to re-write your life? Would you take it?”

The questions confused him. His adolescence had been spent in frustration and solitude. Deep inside he knew he wanted nothing more. Just be able to sing one song. Prove he was his father’s son. What if the voice really had the power to provide him that chance?

“How do I know you can do what you are saying?” he asked.

“You just have to trust,” said the voice.

“OK, what if I take the offer you are making me?”

“Well, then on the third sunrise from today, make your wish.”

“There are no free lunches in this world. So what’s the price?”

There was long silence. Finally the voice said, “Maya…..”

When Sarathy opened his eyes, it was complete darkness. He groped for the light switch and flicked it on. But nothing happened. He flicked the switch a few more times but in vain.

“The power is out,” said his wife. “Try to find the flashlight. I remember it being in the top shelf of the book stand.”

“No, it’s ok. The power outages are getting longer. The first thing we are going to do when the magazine pays me is get a UPS. The motorcycle can wait a bit. At least with the UPS, the fan and lights will work and Maya will be able to sleep comfortably at night,” said Sarathy.

“Did you have a bad dream?" asked his wife.

Sarathy was about to mention his conversation with the voice but held back.

When there was no response from her husband Shyamala said, “You worry too much about me and Maya. We are just fine.”

“All my life I have been falling short on expectations. During my teens I strived hard to meet the expectations of my father. When I couldn’t, I ran from home. Now am striving to provide at least a basic standard of life for my family and am still short.”

“Come on, Sarathy. Today you are doing what you love. With a camera in hand you can produce sheer magic. You just need to believe in yourself some more. Maya and I have very little expectations from you. We just need you to be happy. Your smile brings unbound joy on Maya’s face. Same on mine as well.”

“You have too much faith in me Shyamala. My father once called me a dud in front of my whole family. That day I didn’t believe it, but maybe it’s true.” Shymala could sense the frustration in her husband’s voice. Before she could say anything, he got from the bed and left the room.

Sarathy found the latches of the door and unlocked them. He opened the balcony door to let the night’s cool breeze in. As he stood in the balcony his mind wandered to the dream he had. What if it is true? Could the voice really provide him a chance to re-write his life? Even if the offer was true, how would he be able to justify his actions to Shyamala? There was also a steep price pay. As the thoughts swirled in his head, he felt restless.

“Do not be a fool Sarathy!” shouted Vinay. “It’s just a dream. Think logically. Is it possible to change our past? We can only live in the present and through the choices we make, hope for a better future.”

“But what if it’s true? What if I can change my entire life? You know I will do anything to learn music. Just sing one song. Prove to my dad am worthy to be his son. You know it better than anyone Vinay, deep inside I yearn for my father’s love. When I hear you and others talk lovingly about your parents and family I am filled with remorse and envy. Its only when you do not have something, you will realize the value it holds.”

Vinay could sense the flood on emotions in his friend’s voice. “Ok let’s assume for five minutes that the dream you had was real. Let’s also assume that you make your wish and it is granted. You become a terrific singer and your father accepts you. What about your wife and child Sarathy? How will you ever be able to convince Shyamala? Maya is just six months old. You have no right to trade her to change your life! She is your future.”

Silence ensued for the next few minutes. Sarathy stared into his hot cup of coffee. Finally he said, “ Am just a common man Vinay. I too seek money and fame like all others. I have not achieved anything in my life till now. I do not want my wife or kids in the future to say – I have done nothing for them.”

“But can you carry the guilt all through your life? Do you think Shayama will ever forgive you? Hell, you must be insane if you think there will be a future for you. Yes, your dad will place you on a pedestal and you will ride success, but when you are alone the thought of your child and wife will push further each day down a dark hole from which you will never be able to climb out. Trust me my friend, if what you say is true, never make the wish. It will be the most regrettable decision of your life.” Vinay quickly got up and left the cafe in anger.

Each minute feels like an hour and each hour like a day. Vinay is avoiding me like the plague. I haven’t spoken to Shyamala properly in the last two days.  I haven’t been able to look into Maya’s eyes either. It’s a difficult choice! It’s an insane choice! But don’t we all have to make choices every day? Some days the choices we make have lesser impact and on others it creates a sweeping change in our life. The question really is - how many of those choices we make are morally right? Can we say with pride that all the choices we make are selfless? Or is not based on materialism. The underpinning truth is we all compromise and live with guilt.  To make a selfless choice requires courage and only a few have it. Today they are the greats in the hall of fame. So why should I be different?

As Sarathy sat in the balcony, the first rays of the sun emerged and he could see it kissing the surface of the earth. He closed his eyes and made his wish.

“Sarathy come quick. It’s Maya,” shouted Shyamala from behind.

“What happened?”

“Just come. You have to see this. Maya has turned on her belly and she is giggling. Get your camera.”

Suddenly the phone buzzed loudly.  When Sarathy answered the call he could hear Vinay’s concerned voice at the other end, “What did you wish for?”

"To hell with music," said Sarathy. He slammed the phone down and rushed to get his camera.

Good Leadership – A dying art?

“Each group please list out the top 3 qualities of a good leader.” 

As I heard this instruction from the trainer  I slouched in the chair. This is something I did not expect to do on a Monday morning. As the group  I was working with enthusiastically began to list out the qualities, I wondered how I was going to last the next five days in this training program. I smiled to myself as people in my group blurted out the names of famous leaders and began to describe qualities about them.  

Who really cares about being a good leader anymore? All people today care about is success and money. In spite of his eccentricities, would people still perceive Steve Jobs to be a good leader if he has not made those brilliantly designed and highly successful products? Well, does success define a leader or does good leadership make success a by product? How can I restructure my DNA with certain leadership qualities which I was never born with?  For example, if inherently I am not a person with a futuristic vision, then how can I develop that quality? All supposedly good leaders have a grand vision and pursue it.  For a moment let’s assume my DNA can indeed be restructured, then I can create a manufacturing type program and roll off good leaders from an assembly line? If yes, then the outcome would be fantastic. But reality is starkly different. The fact is today we do not have many good leaders to look up to. Most often than not good leaders end up in a ‘hall of shame’. As these thoughts revolved around in my head, I knew I was about to embark on another quest. Maybe there are no definitive answers. Or maybe there just is…. 

In the subsequent weeks following my training program I hit the bookstores with a vengeance. I got my hands on  every possible leadership book and set-up a mini library at home called “Leadership Journeyman” (named after the training program I attended). I also drew up a list of all the supposedly good leaders and management gurus and began to read their blogs. I also began watching interview videos of top leaders. I slept, ate, dreamt, drank and walked leadership in the ensuing weeks. I also began to mimic gestures of top leaders. I searched desperately for a black turtle neck shirt made famous by Jobs and even managed to order one (though am yet to receive it as apparently they are out of stock in many stores following the demise of Jobs). I read for long hours into the night, stared like a mad man into space and lost connect with daily life. What defines a good leader? How can one become a good leader? These two questions haunted me every second. 

I began to rigorously practice certain qualities that all the knowledge acquired said a good leader must have. I listened actively to everyone and everything around me and displayed a high sense of empathy. I brought passion to everything I did, even to the simplest task of writing minutes of a meeting. I painted a grand vision of the future to all my colleagues, no matter how absurd they looked. I was transparent in everything I did, be at home or at work. I proactively took upon to do the most mundane of tasks. I practiced all the effective leadership methods and metrics described in the books religiously. The outcome – most things backfired. I became disconnected with my work and left most people bewildered with my actions. Most often than not I landed in trouble. I left my team confused and disgruntled. My productivity and creativity took a visible dip and my confidence hit an all time low. I was lost in a labyrinth with no way out. Then as they say, a spark is enough to light a fire. 

“KG, thanks mate. I never thought I would make it. The discussion with you gave me renewed courage,” said one of my colleagues while having lunch. I had give him some advice about his career few months back. That single line however set the ball rolling. 

If you look at the biography of any good or great leader, they have always managed to change things around from seemingly impossible situations. Yes, they have all displayed positive traits such as integrity, loyalty, determination, creativity, hard work et al. And yes, they have even displayed arrogance, anger, eccentricities et al. At times they have even doubted their own capabilities and wandered aimlessly. But, there is one quality that sets a good leader apart from rest of the pack. Good leaders INSPIRE! And that’s not an easy quality to be taught or which can be developed through rigorous practice. It requires a fundamental change in mindset. Inspiration comes from an never ending sense of faith. Faith that yes there is a better tomorrow; faith in my team to execute the task with highest of quality; faith that we can develop world class products or services; faith that our society can be a better place; just plain unquestionable faith. When that kind of faith system is built at the core then every other trait is reduced to a mere add-on. This is easier said than done cause as humans our natural tendency is the quite the opposite. We tend to bicker and banter about everything. Good leaders then transform this faith into hard headed action and are able to create an aura of ‘awe’ around them and inspire one and all. 

I firmly believe that the quest for being a good leader will never end. Even if you are crowned as a good leader I don’t think the quest will ever end. You will as always be a Journeyman (or an apprentice).

(This writing is a tribute to Steve Jobs)

In Search Of Immortality

Over the last few weeks, I have been on a guilt trip. Partly due to my own conscience and partly due to the constant reminders from peers and friends around me. So today, against all odds and constraints I decided to write and hopefully in that process reduce the guilt brewing in my heart. But then deciding to write something and then actually penning a few words are completely opposite things. As I groped for the right words and ideas, just like someone trying to find the flashlight in the dark when the lights go out, an advise I got from many years ago rang in my head - “If you want to be a really good at something, keep searching.  Travel the world, meet different people, and experience different things. Don’t be afraid. Never stop searching….”. At first I took the advise frivolously, but over the years as I matured I understood the depth of it. As when I did begin to search, it transformed my thinking and the world around me.  

As I climbed the last few steps, I panted heavily due to lack of oxygen and my legs felt as if they weighed a ton each. The exhaustion from battling starvation, walking long miles over treacherous terrain and lack of sleep was seeping into every muscle of my body. My vision blurred and I was on the brink of giving it all up. Ahead of me I could see the steps snaking steeply into a large cave and a rush of devotees at the entrance. The constant ringing of the bell and  loud chants of “Har Har Mahadev!” and “Bum Bum Bole” filled the air. I stopped to take a deep breadth  and regain my composure. So close yet so far!   

“You must be insane KG. People die out there and half of them never make it. Even if you make it, the suffering will be immense,” said my closest friend. I could feel a genuine concern in her voice. 

“So be it,” I replied. “You can never achieve something if you are not ready to suffer for it. I want to go not because  it’s a matter of faith or religion. It’s an adventure. Don’t know if I will succeed or fail but it will be an experience worth for life. I cannot miss out on that. And I can only do it when I still have strength left in my body.” 

“God bless,” she said and slammed the phone down. 

As my mind came back into the present - How will I ever make it back home? I thought to myself. I looked around trying to spot my companions but in an sea of people it was next to impossible. As my heart sank further the only possible way out was to somehow  reach the base camp, which of course was eight hours of walk and 14 kms away. With the weather closing in I had no chance of making it. The only option I had was to try and complete the journey on which I had embarked 5 days ago and get a glimpse of Lord Amarnath.  The rest I assured myself will take care of itself. I mustered the reserves of my energy and started to climb again. 

My back hurts and I need to re-pack by bag. Its heavy on the left side. The first thing I am going to do when I get to the camp is  have a shower and eat some hot food. Then I need to call people back home and let them know I made it. Am sure quite a few of them will be surprised. Maybe when I get to Srinagar, the hotel will hopefully have an internet connection and I can check my mails. Am sure there will lot of things open-ended in office. I also have to pay the mobile  bill. Don’t know why people said the secret of immortality is here? People have gone through pain and suffering to get here. Including me! Did Shiva not have any other place on this planet to reveal the secret of immortality to his wife? What is the secret by the way? Maybe is blind faith. There….. 

A firm hand held my shoulder and jerked me back into the present. It was one of the numerous soldiers guarding the entrance to the cave. “Please remove your shoes and keep you bag at the counter. You are only allowed barefoot inside the cave,” he said. When I removed the shoes and socks my legs froze. 

“Chant Om Namah Shivaiy and go forward,” said another solider as I shivered. 

The mind is our biggest enemy. If we could find a way to measure its speed, am sure it will be multiple times faster than light. But unlike light it never travels in a straight line. It’s like a child left alone in  a toy shop running aimlessly from one place to another unsure about what to play with. If we pay close attention,  our thoughts race from the past to the future and vice versa. We cannot hold it in the present for more than a few minutes. Even the conversations which we have with our friends and family, most often than not, is either centered around incidents that have occurred in the past or things that could happen in the future. The timeline of course vary from few minutes to days to many years. Even organizations for that matter. A majority spend endless hours debating about things that have gone wrong and even more time detailing plans for the future. Services and products are launched considering the future revenue growth they will generate. Very few organizations think about the present or ask the question - what are the needs of our customers today and what solutions can we offer them now? Everything is based on an abstract future and an unchangeable past. We fail to realize that future only causes fear and the past mostly pain and regret. I am not against planning for the future or about learning from out past. I am against spend vast amounts of time and energy on either. The present is where our life is. Our sufferings, happiness, pains, pleasures, actions et all unfolds in the present. The present is where our karma is. It’s against our inherent human nature to live in the moment. But if we manage to do it and  give it our best then the future that will take care of itself and the past will magically vanish. It will make every second of our present life immortal.  

As I climbed the final few steps and rang the bell at the entrance of the cave, my mind went blank.  Neither the future or the past existed. It was just me in the moment. I bent my head and said  Om Namah Shivaiy.

A Million Zuckerberg’s

During the last week I was asked two interesting questions about myself. The first one was, ‘In 10 words describe yourself’ and the second ‘What motivates you to do this job?’ On both the occasions my answers were very similar. For the first one I said, “Consultant by profession, entrepreneur by heart’ and for the second my answer was, “My present job role gives me the opportunity to be an entrepreneur and start something from scratch. So that’s motivation enough”.

The answers kept replaying in my head in the subsequent days and numerous questions came up – who is a true entrepreneur? What defines a true entrepreneur? And am I really a true entrepreneur? As I searched for answers to these intriguing questions…

“Am planning to come back Mr.G”

The statement caught me completely off guard. “Come on Eashwar. It’s been 25 years. Do you think you can adjust here now? Looks like the long flight, less sleep and Indian air has stirred a new sense of patriotism,” I said jokingly.

“No I am serious Mr.G. Have been thinking about this for some time now. I can see a lot of opportunities here now.”

“Oh now I get it. Now that India is the next big thing, you want to come back. Twenty five years ago you felt this place was a scrap yard and you left. And for you information, my dearest cousin, compared to the Silicon Valley we are still playing catch up. That said, there are a lot more opportunities today compared to 20 years ago.”

We rode in silence for the next few miles. “It’s about doing something you truly love Mr.G. I am planning to start something on my own and have a few ideas. You always wanted to be an entrepreneur,” said Eashwar breaking the silence.

“Is that a job offer?” I asked with smile. “Depends on the idea. However I must remind you, entrepreneurship is still a nascent concept in this country. It’s jazzy to say I want to be an entrepreneur. Rising angel or VC funding in India is still a challenge and banks don’t lend unless you are well connected. And unlike the West no crazy millionaire in India would part with his money to fund an unviable technology idea. Unless of course you want to put your pension fund at risk. So I suggest you think harder before you take the plunge,” I said.

“Agreed! The system has its own challenges. But entrepreneurship is all about perseverance and never ending hope,” said my cousin.

“Misplaced hope is the right word. The west has its legends from the 80’s and 90’s. And the success stories of these guys provide inspiration and hope for a lot of wannabes. They have paved way for thousands to follow. In India most of the so called entrepreneurs are either second or third generation and were born with a golden spoon. There is less than a handful who you can classified as true entrepreneurs. Secondly the social structure in this country does not consider entrepreneurship as a profession. You got to work in an IT company, or be a doctor or a lawyer to be respected,” I said

“You seemed to have lost the edge Mr.G. Looks like the corporate world has blunted your enthusiasm. The lure of fat salaries, plush offices and a better lifestyle have definitely reduced the risk appetite of people like you. No offense, but I think the present day opportunities in India maybe one of the top reasons for this. How many would refuse a plum campus job compared to going down a dark tunnel for many years without a light at the other end? ” said Eashwar.

I started to say something defensively but held back. Silence ensued for the next few miles.

“Well there is a new source of inspiration in India these days. The baba’s,” said Eashwar sarcastically with a smile and breaking the silence once again.

“Maybe you too can learn some yoga and churn your tummy every morning on television. Then lure some of your millionaire friends from the west, siphon off dollars from them, build a lavish ashram and pay no taxes. And once in a while you just need to create some ruckus and go on a fast to lose the flab gained. That sounds like a good business model? What say?”

Both of burst out laughing. I dropped Eashwar off and headed home.

A study by the National Knowledge Commission (NKC) defined an entrepreneurship pyramid in India in terms of sectors and number of people engaged. Level 4 (the base of the pyramid) consisting of agriculture and other activates was the largest category accounting for over 50%; Level 3- Trading services include wholesale and retail trade formed the second largest sector; Level 2- Old economy or traditional sectors such as manufacturing was the third largest and Level 1-emerging sectors such as IT/ITES, Healthcare, Insurance etc was the smallest at the top accounting for less than 10%. Of the over 50,000 new companies registered in 2007-2008 less than 5% were in the emerging sector. The report also indicated that 65% of the entrepreneurs self financed their start-ups and the average age of a first time entrepreneur was 35 years. Now let’s compare this to some of the statistics in the Silicon Valley from another research. Angel (seed) funding totaled over $20 billion in 2010 and over 61,000 entrepreneurial ventures got funded. Of these over 50% of the start-ups were in Healthcare, Software and IT and in total 370,000 new jobs were created.  These numbers reflect a 20% drop in entrepreneurship activity levels due to recession. The average age of a first time entrepreneur was 25 years.

Now many more correlations from the data sets can be drawn and new analysis could be presented. But that’s not the point! The statistics are poles apart. Maybe it is true. Graduates coming out of colleges today prefer the fat paychecks compared to the ambiguity and risk of entrepreneurship. And people working in the industry never want to move out of their comfort zone. Fear of failure I believe is our biggest challenge and as a society we need to mature to be able to handle it. Surprisingly over 80% of the start-ups in Silicon Valley fail and entrepreneurs usually start the next venture in less than 6 months. The cultural set-up is such that failure is accepted, glorified and is looked upon as experience gained. Contrastingly in India, failure is treated as a disease and a slight fall brings out the wrath of family and friends. Failures are shunned and cast away into oblivion. The second challenge for us is thinking big. We are somehow are content with our salaries, cars, EMI apartments and fancy cell phones. The immediate aspiration for us is our manager’s job. Same holds true even for a fresh graduate right out of college. We never aspire for big things or strive to get there.

Now when these two challenges intertwine entrepreneurship take a nose dive and even a distant thought of doing something on our own is nipped. A true entrepreneur has two classic qualities – never fears failure and always thinks big. Unless we don’t imbibe these two qualities in us we can never impart it to the next generation. Today we all dream and discuss of India becoming the next economic powerhouse in the coming decade. To get there entrepreneurship is going to be the linchpin of our success.

To top it all, “It’s about doing something you truly love Mr.G”



Bells And Pyre

About 3 months ago….

“You win some and you lose some KG. That’s the way it is.”

“ Come on Gauri, don’t get philosophical on me. Philosophy fills the void left by science.  As humans we cannot accept the fact that sometimes there are no answers. At best our mind is analytical and our heart confused. So philosophy falls right into the slot. Some loses  are just not fair,” I said.

“ Forget it. You remember how we first met?” asked Gauri with a smile.

“Well during the conference last year. The finance track moderator tanked at the last minute and you approached me. Before I could say yes or no, you forced a script into my hands, turned around and took flight.”

Gauri burst out laughing. “That’s not what happened. You make it look so dramatic. Before I approached you I asked Anil if there was anyone in his team who could speak well, was energetic, oozed confidence  and could handle a crowd. He pointed at you. And when I approached you I did explain  the agenda, your role,  etc”

“ None of that description fits me. Maybe you got the wrong person. All you did was shove a script in my hand, turn back and flee. After that I ran around like a frightened chicken asking everyone what to do. Finally when I did figure it out, I was late for the session by 15 minutes and had to profusely apologize to the participants in the hall. I stammered with the opening lines, sweat poured down the sides of my face and was blinded by the lights. I looked so dumb on stage thanks to you.”

“But the best part is you managed it so well KG.I am proud of you. I got some good reviews about your track from participants. I did peep into your session for a few minutes and you looked completely comfortable. I also heard you exchanged numbers with a few good looking women,” said Guri. She nudged me with her elbow.

“ Don’t chide me. I just wanted to strangle you after the session but you disappeared. The next day you called and invited me for dinner. I came with a plan to blow my top but your smile saved the day for you,” I said.

With that I got up to leave. “ All the best for your trip Gauri. Have fun and do send me some pictures when you return. And please return my camping bag in good condition.”

“Will take care of it like my baby. And KG…” she hesitated.

“ Yes Gauri.”

“You have been a terrific friend. Thanks for sticking by me.”

“Cool. See you when I see you,” I said. With that I turned and left Gauri standing in the balcony.

About 2 weekends ago..

My phone was constantly ringing since morning and with every call I was closer to the point of breaching the irritation level. My best friend was getting married and the ‘To Do” list seemed never ending. As I pulled the car out of the garage the phone rang for a zillionth time. At first I ignored the call.  The phone buzzed again.

“Bro, am on my way. Will be there in 30,” I barked into the phone and was about to cut the call.

“KG I got some news. Hold on,” said the voice.

As the voice at the other end started speaking, my heart sank. I ended the call without uttering a single word. It seemed impossible. How could this happen? It was not meant to end this way. As I sat it the car the realization hit me.  I knew all along that inevitability would strike. It was just a matter of time.

I quickly hit the dial button. “Anil, I coming to the hospital. I cannot go for the wedding. I need to see her,” I said.

“ Bro the situation is not right here. There are some family issues as well.”

“But then this happened so quickly. I called her last week. She did not answer my calls. I should have realized thi…..” my voice shivered and a lump formed in my throat.

“Gauri wanted it this way KG. Only her parents and roommate were with her when the end came “ said Anil. “ You need to be at the wedding. People are expecting you and your closest to Somu. Please don’t tell this news to him or anyone. It will just stir the pot and things may go haywire.”

“I cannot do this. It’s impossible to look calm and appear as if everything is normal. Wait for me there,” I said. I quickly cut and call and raced to the hospital. The wailing and commotion as I got off the elevator was palpable. A hand tugged at my shirt and I was pulled into the corner.

“Her end came fast. The cancer spread to her kidneys and she went into a cardiac arrest during dialysis. We all knew this was going to happen KG. And yet we are unprepared when it happens. That’s the irony,” said Anil.

I was dumfounded for the next hour. Finally after much persuasion I decided to go for the wedding. As I put on a plastic smile and  made conversations my heart melted. Flashes of Gauri, our never ending conversations,  her delicious food and  undying spirit faded in and out of my mind. After an hour I found some excuses and left the wedding hall filled with remorse.

Challenge is probably an understated synonym of life. And when its threaded with unpredictability the compounding result is most often than not overwhelming. Some (if not most) challenging situations in life are beyond reason. The losses cannot be explained. The gains are however accepted with open arms with no questions asked. In life we encounter numerous situations, be it in personal of professional space, that completely throws us off balance.  No matter how much we train our minds to cushion the impact, the severe jolt from such situations leaves a lasting impression for eternity.  Few of us recover quick while others struggle for long periods to find the lost balance. In the end  with time normalcy does limber back into our lives driven by the undying human spirit to surge ahead. Every time we encounter such a situation the process starts all over again. And every time the same questions swirl in our head – why me? What went wrong? Is this fair? etc . The answers however to all questions are also the same – silence. Maybe there are no answers or maybe it is beyond the realms of the ordinary man to comprehend even if it is provided.  In the end, the only explanation that I have come up with is…. That’s life!

We bid adieu to Gauri form this world but not from our memories.

The Warriors Of Emerald City: Part I - Touchdown

April 23^rd  2001, the date will be etched in my memory forever. That day my life changed. I had no prescience how my life was going to shape up in the following years, but as the plane touched down at Bangalore International Airport my tummy churned. I had a heavy feeling in my heart and wished I was not here. I was going to miss the summers of Oxford. When the snow melted and white turned to green a sense of joy flooded into the lives of people. Flowers would begin to bloom in the backyard and the air always smelled sweet. After the long harsh dull winter the sun’s warm rays made everything around us glitter. Well I was already missing the barbeque's and the endless games of football followed by ice cream. I missed my friends. I missed everything about England.

As the plane taxied to a halt I looked at mom and dad sitting on either side of me. Both of them had a smile on their face. They seemed as excited as a newlywed couple.

“ Mom when will be go back to England?” I asked. I had tormented her during the nine hour flight with questions about making the journey and she was visibility irritated by now.

“Maybe in a year or two Daniel. Maybe even Grandpa and grandma can visit us next year. Am sure you are going to enjoy here darling” she said.

Well I doubt that, I told myself. I somehow had an uneasy feeling about being here. Life is always unfair to a ten year old. Decisions were just thrust upon us and we had to obey like slaves. We had no choices. I sometimes felt like the house-elf from Harry Potter novels. As we waited for the baggage to arrive, I so wished our suitcases would to be lost. I also wished my dad would hate his job here. Mom to get a terrible flu. No school to accept me. But then, wishes of children are never granted and we have to make do with what we get in our lives. I have to wait another eight more years to be considered an adult. Then I could have my own apartment, choose my own clothes, have a girlfriend and make my own life.  Till then I guess my choice is limited to tagging along.

As we stepped out of the airport, I felt the heat tearing into my skin. The decibel levels raised and there were swarms of people waiting near the exit. The stench made me nauseous and the world around me began to spin.

“ Are you all right Daniel? Is it too hot? Maybe you should take off your jacket. You will not need it here,’ my dad said pointing to the jacket.  I removed my jacket and tied it around my waist. We got into a waiting taxi  which looked worse than grandpa’s old Rover. As the taxi moved the doors rattled and with every gear shift there was a shudder. The seats were brown in color and I was not sure if it was due to dirt or if it  was the original color of the seats.

“It will take about 30 minutes to reach your apartment sir,” said the driver to my dad.  My dad merely nodded in response.

As we rolled down narrow roads, the ride got bumpier. Big red and white buses spewed out black smoke and they resembled a monster. I had never seen so many cars and motorbikes in my life. There were also numerous 3-wheeled yellow and white buggy shaped vehicles that squeezed between vehicles. They emitted a funny sound and drew the ire of our taxi driver. He constantly spat abuses in his native language and as he did so the spit from his mouth flew out in all directions. The city appeared overloaded with people and I counted up to 5 people on a scooter. We stopped at numerous signals and the moment the light turned red  people jumped from all directions in front of vehicles. At the first signal a boy about my age wearing torn clothes  knocked at the window and put his hand forward.  He stared at me for a minute and then quietly moved on. I could see some people giving him coins while others shooed him away. He did not seem to mind and just went about his business. At first I was confused but then it struck me. He was a beggar!   I saw more of them  at traffic signals – men limping, women carrying children, disabled and limbless people.

“Mom, why are these people begging?” I asked.

“ They don’t have enough money Dan. They cannot go to work and are homeless.”

“Well I thought India was a big country and there is place for all,” I said.

“There is place for all. It is just that not all people have money. So it is up to us to help the needy,”  said mom.

Before I could say something the taxi got off the main road and entered a narrow lane leading to a  twin tower building standing at the end of it. The last time I had seen a twin tower was on a school trip to London.  As we approached a big red gate we were stopped by a guard. He wore blue colored pants and shirts, had a big moustache and a whistle dangling from his shirt. He peered inside the taxi and exchanged a few words with the driver. As he let us pass he gave a grand salute. I had only seen guards at the Buckingham palace do that and couldn’t help but chuckle. We went around a fountain which had the words “Welcome To Emerald City”  below it.

To be continued..

The Colors of A ‘True’ Indian

Blue is the color of the season. With cricket gripping the country tightly in its clutches, young and old alike are glued to television sets and praying for their heroes to emerge victorious. However, I must confess that I am not an ardent fan of cricket. I still fail to understand how two teams after toiling for five long days to outwit each other could shake hands and call it a ‘draw’.  Though the game has evolved over the last decade to attract new segments of viewers and move beyond its conventional realms, people like me have not become a convert.  In school, I had three games to choose from: football, field hockey and basket ball. I chose football for the simple fact that that the rules were uncomplicated, did not have to invest in expensive gear and could settle my personal scores with classmates the legal way. As I grew up football became my passion and cricket the distant cousin.

When the cricket World Cup got underway last week and with India beginning their hopeful campaign of winning it, the television set at home has been tuned to only one channel 24/7. I have had to literally fight for my right to view my favorite channels. In the end I have managed to get control of the remote not for the valor exhibited but more due to sympathy. In addition the constant ranting of statistics, team strategies and opinions has added salt to the wound. Needless to say the women have had a tougher time and I am sure the TRP ratings of those never ending over dramatized soaps have plummeted. I have also been branded as not being a ‘true’ Indian for not following the game or even trying to understand it. Well that said I have so far managed to hold my ground in whatever little way possible.

Cricket though not being our national sport and having its roots in English history runs in the veins of every Indian. Our forefathers acquired taste for the game during pre Independence era and subsequent generations have embraced it zealously. Surprisingly today the biggest revenue markets for the game are the countries in the sub-continent. Cricket is also the second most popular sport, in terms of viewership, in the world behind football. So yes, the game does unite us and adds to the color of being an Indian. But that said, India is a pluralistic society and other vibrant colors also define who we really are.

Blue – Blue often represents the human emotion of sadness. ‘Monday Blues’ is something we are all well aware off. However in the Indian context Blue signifies happiness and optimism. Most logos of Indian companies would have a touch of a blue in them. Be it any sport, Indian sportsperson turn up in blue and likewise the spectators. The color is synonymous with cricket in the country. However in recent times the Indian blue has been flying high in sports such as tennis, badminton, Formula 1, hockey and athletics. More often than not our prime ministers Pagri is also blue. The color signifies the spirit of India in all its forms.

Saffron – In recent years the color and its band of followers have sent shivers down our spine. Saffron for people in ‘modern’ India is ironic to its mystic roots that symbolized India decades ago. Even the thought of saffron rekindles a sense of hatred and fear and the color metamorphosis itself into red in our minds. Answers to why and how this transformation occurred have been delved into before but have remained unanswered. The common man in India will never understand the layers of complexity weaved by politics, greed, religion and power that the color hides beneath its surface. At the most we can only look at the scars it has left in our lives and hope that the next generation is never lured by Saffron and its predicament.

White – the color symbolizes purity and selflessness. For us though the color is fused with the netas whom we have rightfully (and in most cases wrongly) elected to represent us. Am not sure who they end up representing, but most definitely it is not the people by whom they were elected. The attire they wear is white but it in no way represents their actions or words. Far from being role models to the next generation their every act beings a sense of ‘déjà vu’. We have somehow become immune to the viral ways of our netas and therein lies the impending downfall of our society. Statistics indicate that that less than 40% of the urban population in India vote during elections. As literates are we not responsible for the health of the political system? Well, if we want change to happen then we need to be ‘change agents’ ourselves.

Green – Agriculture accounts for about 18% of India’s GDP and employs over 60% of the population. Contrarily the famed IT industry accounts for about 5% of the GDP and employs less than 1% of the population. And yet we glorify the crumbs and conveniently forget the larger share. We are still an agrarian society and globalization is a non-existent term for over third the population that is tethered by poverty. Green is also the color of money.  Money that finds its path through crevices in every public office in the form of bribes; money that is plucked from the hands of deserved and used to fuel the greed of the rich; money that every child deserves for education but never gets; public money that every politician/bureaucrat splash on their whims; money that a family in doldrums of poverty strive for to have one square meal a day; money that creates a vast divide between the haves and have not’s in our country is represented by green.

In spite of the various colors that unite and divide us equally, we march on with great aspirations and hope. The color of a true Indian cannot be signified by just one shade. It’s the unique combination of different colors that makes us who we truly are.