tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79851009501152542962024-03-13T09:35:55.410-07:00The Vagabond.piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-33922160530962121552011-04-30T10:24:00.000-07:002011-04-30T10:24:19.264-07:00Customer Centricism, Arranged Marriages And Shanghai<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">In a recent webinar, <a href="http://ranjaygulati.com/rg/">Ranjay Gulati</a> spoke at length about customer centricity and how important it is in the post-financial crisis world. While at different points in history there were different factors that were motivators for customers and most of them eventually did become what Prof. Gulati calls “Hygiene Factors”; what is important to understand is the fact that the financial crisis has dismantled the aura surrounding some of the fat cats of the corporate world in an unprecedented way. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Being, or pretending being customer centric used to be a sureshot way for an organization to win customer confidence, and, subsequently, survive. Customer centricism was the key differentiator, the buzzword, the mantra for running a successful venture. Of course there were factors like innovation, price, or monopoly etc that could ensure that a firm can survive, “customer-driven”, or “customer-focused” or any other fancy term was the clincher. This was the catchphrase that most firms, in a desperate attempt to attract customers used to cling onto hoping that the customer will listen. But, mostly, that was where it ended. CRM was limited to spending just enough amounts of resources that would prevent the customer from suing the firm, especially post-delivery. But, as more and more firms are realizing the hard way, those fancy terms have moved from being Motivators, to being Hygiene Factors. Being customer-centric is not how you succeed in business anymore. It is how you survive in business. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Businesses can no longer hope that the customers will keep coming to them as long as they maintained their edge in the business, which could be a smart product, a strategic location, great prices or even lack of competitors. The only reason why a customer now would come to you is because you care. Because your entire business, your products, services, strategies are designed to ensure that the customer not just feels, but IS at the center. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the much-ridiculed, and to some extent rightly so system of arranged marriages in India, once a daughter is married, her parents and their families do not just wash their hands off her, but spend most of their lifetimes strengthening ties with the daughter’s husband’s family. There are greetings, gifts, favours and all kind of support that is directed to the groom’s family for generations. The groom’s family receives the pride of place in every social gathering at the girl’s place and has a lot of weight attached to everything they say. This is not done just to ensure that the daughter is treated properly in the groom’s household, but also to extend contacts, resources, networks and, perhaps most importantly, to have a good name in the society which might help in further alliances. The relevance of this reference is left to the reader’s discretion.</div><div class="MsoNormal">If a firm is a stool, Product, Value, and Relationship are like its three legs. You can’t have one shorter or longer than the other. Relationships and Value to customer have to be two-thirds of your organizational structure, the third, of course being the product or service that you offer.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Customer centricism is not just the cute receptionist anymore. It is the big guy sitting in the corner office. Moreover, the criticality and urgency of this realization is not something that should be confined to the board room or should be drilled into the heads of the customer-facing employees during induction. It has to flow in the lifeblood of the organization. It has to be something that every member of the organization swears by. It cannot just be a part of the mission statement. It has to be engraved in the psyche of a firm. It is not enough to just move from the four P’s to the four C’s. You have to align the firm so as to drive real value to the customer, as defined by the customer.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In Shanghai, I used to frequently visit a small restaurant called Hannah’s partly because of the ambience, food and the crowd, but mainly because of the way Hannah – a lady in her fifties – used to just light up seeing me. She would come over, have a small chit-chat, ask what I would like to eat, and then start preparing it. I once, out of sheer habit, took a can of coke from the refrigerator of her restaurant, and walked out forgetting to pay for it. Later, when I realized it, I came back embarrassed to her joint and asked her to take money for the coke. She said it was perfectly fine and I could have the coke free of cost as a gift from her. I went to her restaurant till the last day I was in Shanghai. Again, the relevance of this reference is left to the reader’s discretion.</div></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-31387741402724274712011-02-07T04:30:00.000-08:002011-02-25T02:17:38.001-08:00The Rise of Facebook – And Why Google Is Worried.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The recent change of command at the Google headquarters has made one thing clear – that Google, for the first time in its history, is rattled and has acknowledged a serious competition to its decade-long dominance over the internet. With erstwhile CEO Eric Schmidt making way for the notoriously media shy Larry Page, Google sent out the clearest signals that there has been a clear shift in Google’s strategy, and that it is going to be more pronounced in coming days. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">From the heady days of redefining the internet and becoming one of the greatest companies in the world, to a time when the Google trio of Sergey Brin, Larry Page and Eric Schmidt was the most formidable group in Silicon Valley, Google met with plenty of obstacles and successfully overcame them. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">In the beginning, Google, like the proverbial David, took on the reigning rulers of the information technology world (read Microsoft) and took away first their internet search business, followed by the web-based mails and then the Browser Wars and forced Microsoft to concentrate on their core competencies of Operating Systems and Enterprise applications. The next victims of the Google juggernaut were the web-based instant-messaging clients like yahoo messenger and msn messenger who faded into oblivion thanks to the pristinely simple and effective Google Talk. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">This and a host of innovative products like Android, Google News, Google Earth and Blogger ensured that Google was the first word that popped into a user’s mind the moment they logged onto the internet for anything. The Google impact was so strong that internet browsing and searching for information started being referred to as “Googling”. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">During the course of its journey, Google also ran into issues with governments and legal agencies over screening of its search results and sometimes over privacy issues, especially for services like Google Maps. Detractors called its motto a façade, its technical capability a sham and its business strategy directionless, but Google kept flying high. On the power of amazing technical innovations, great user experience, smart revenue-generation mechanisms, strategic takeovers and a largely unblemished reputation, the prices of Google’s stocks consistently performed way ahead of the competition.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1spUnlItKSki4kwcrkwmSdUeRLDEwOAhUnsQqmIw3IkexO7fW7NmbqY5ee0iT91WjABd9KSZCT9mXMOiN9oGTcQsE6Lhs751eEyPnPXLB7di9iuZMPj7rw9jHzCBRFPsHWM0LgHAcuGNI/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1spUnlItKSki4kwcrkwmSdUeRLDEwOAhUnsQqmIw3IkexO7fW7NmbqY5ee0iT91WjABd9KSZCT9mXMOiN9oGTcQsE6Lhs751eEyPnPXLB7di9iuZMPj7rw9jHzCBRFPsHWM0LgHAcuGNI/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Google, during its expansion from a two-member Stanford dorm-room company to a 24,000 plus California corporate house, also had its share of poaching allegations but kept attracting the best talent from all over the globe and kept being named as one of the best places to work. Everything seemed perfect. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Then, a curly-haired, 20-something kid from Harvard arrived on the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The web2.0 revolution made one thing clear. The days of static web pages and sponsored content were over. This age was defined by the generation that had grown up with the internet and wanted to and could generate its own content online. I have always felt that this was something that many companies, Google included, failed to read early. True, Google created Orkut and did meet with some success in the non-US market; and Myspace did enjoy considerable success in the early part of the last decade, something was always missing in the way these products reached out to their users. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Essentially, Google was, and remains till date, a search company. It’s great at creating crawlers that would read the entire World Wide Web and its pockets so that you can have just the information you want in a fraction of a second, free of cost, but I’m not sure how well Google reads its users and their social trends.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">To say that Facebook just happens to enjoy a colossal stroke of luck is to do a bit of disservice to the man behind it. Facebook has proved that at the end of the day, people don’t just want information, they want to share it. I think it’s the second-best example of how user-generated content is preferred by users over organization-generated content, the best example being of course, Wikipedia. And after all, isn’t that what the internet was meant for- sharing information?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Facebook and Zuck (Mark Zuckerberg) didn’t really start off wishing to change the world. On the contrary, Zuck just wanted his friends to look at pictures of girls and vote if they thought the girl was “Hot” or “Not”. In a way, this was an example of the brilliance of Mr. Zuckerberg when it came to, among other things, knowing what people wanted. Today Facebook has over 600 million active users signed up with it who are talking, sharing, watching, planning and, potentially carrying billions of dollars of revenue for anyone who gets their attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Somewhat unwittingly, facebook has made a dent in Google’s throne. Google, for a while now, has been struggling to get its social networking business up to a standard where it can be called a Google business without sounding apologetic. It tried first with Orkut which could not take one blow from Facebook and then with the biggest dud in the history of Google – the Google Wave. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Though it still had search, and image sharing, and YouTube and Gmail and gtalk, the day Facebook surpassed Google to become the most visited website in the world, Google knew this was no stroke of luck – this was different. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtZXuhv0OlSFdkRwFitgMIyg3eFmMa-wQq1gw_ZzG1XzQ5yDlh94OPdxhK9rXRjR2IssawMSdFRzfpfDLdMeV3qv_XZWbPcosW9xE5AjsFkhwuvPyt3kz_5QzHYZZ3HJ8capzjlrGaOaJ/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtZXuhv0OlSFdkRwFitgMIyg3eFmMa-wQq1gw_ZzG1XzQ5yDlh94OPdxhK9rXRjR2IssawMSdFRzfpfDLdMeV3qv_XZWbPcosW9xE5AjsFkhwuvPyt3kz_5QzHYZZ3HJ8capzjlrGaOaJ/s400/2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If you are an active Facebook and Google user like me, you might not have even realized that we don’t really search Google for weather updates, film/restaurants reviews, and holiday planning anymore. We don’t even upload our pictures on Picasa or videos on YouTube. Heck! We don’t even ping our friends on gtalk! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Why? Because all that is already there by them on Facebook! The gateway to the internet for a user is no longer Google, it’s Facebook. And when Facebook recently refurbished its messaging service to extend functionalities offered it made clear that Facebook is going to rewrite emailing too.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Gradually, step-by-step, and while Google was happily sleeping in its Ivory Tower, Facebook has become the new destination of choice for netizens. The IPO frenzy that Facebook’s IPO plans caused resulted in the IPO being postponed altogether. Mark Zuckerberg has been named the Time Person of the Year 2010. The movie “The Social Network” based on Zuck’s life is nominated in 8 categories for the Academy Awards and has already won the Golden Globe for Best Picture. Users are organizing trips, meetings and even revolutions on Facebook- Facebook is everywhere! <b><i>Just the way once Google was.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">How Larry Page – so far the man “behind” most of Google’s innovation and products takes upon arguably the toughest challenge of his illustrious career remains to be seen. But one thing is certain- that we are going to see plenty of action in the coming days from both the sides. In a way, it’s good to have competition as that’s how you keep moving. But every time something like this happens, I wonder if David and Goliath are really two different characters of just two different phases in the life of the same entity!<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-83997078705738677672011-01-31T11:21:00.000-08:002011-01-31T11:22:23.642-08:00The Shanghai Sojourn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The S3 Asia MBA is a very unique course in more ways than one. On one hand is the wealth of knowledge that a student stands to gain from studying in three amazing universities, and on the other is the priceless opportunity to live in places like Shanghai, Seoul and Singapore. I embarked upon this journey with a lot of preparation. I had tried to imagine the various situations that I might land in and how I would deal with them. In retrospect, I was being utterly stupid! For nothing I could ever imagine would have prepared me for what was in store for me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> The first thing I felt upon landing at the Pudong International Airport, Shanghai was a rushing sense of being an Indian. It was my first international travel experience and, as destiny would have it, I was in China. Here, I looked different from everyone else. They spoke a language that was nothing like anything I’ve ever heard before. Everything was built gigantic in proportions, the traffic was right-handed and the food- well, let’s leave that for later.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We arrived, settled and started the semester with a lot of enthusiasm- both from the students as well as the university. I can never forget the <a href="http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMTY2OTc3MDQ0.html" style="background-color: yellow;">three-day orientation</a> that Fudan organized for us. The accommodation – Tonghe International Student Village – lived up to its name by proving to be a truly international experience.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-MRLQWaBiFeNg_IuQkgkGQTSf16oDeZdHYcPTOs6nMevbOt1h2x_Lqmw1oaV6tsP7n4QZxWJzxS1TyxQcGmabFEQAJiUit43gHivVCLMmNgytk1hj6MhB8msxE5heb4LoOvpKxojfkxG/s1600/IMG_1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-MRLQWaBiFeNg_IuQkgkGQTSf16oDeZdHYcPTOs6nMevbOt1h2x_Lqmw1oaV6tsP7n4QZxWJzxS1TyxQcGmabFEQAJiUit43gHivVCLMmNgytk1hj6MhB8msxE5heb4LoOvpKxojfkxG/s400/IMG_1087.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tonghe and Chartre's Deli</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"> The route everyday from Tonghe to the School of Business gave us an opportunity to walk past the GuangHua Towers. At least to me, the towers remained an awe-inspiring view throughout the semester. The entire Fudan campus has this amazing energy and sense of purpose about it which is reassuring and humbling at the same time. Then the classes started.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fBo4nsNP8FgqwqLw3KavOo_zlH3Moq6xItor2M4dgHQPCOCFdav2cEkiJhYTtuufOyCLBdJ1L1EcCjxvWWZJFmtX7hsRshwYnPgQP41VwX5GiTIIfSZLZKN0u6Lmmyqzk-wey0ScQ9rX/s1600/IMG_1452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fBo4nsNP8FgqwqLw3KavOo_zlH3Moq6xItor2M4dgHQPCOCFdav2cEkiJhYTtuufOyCLBdJ1L1EcCjxvWWZJFmtX7hsRshwYnPgQP41VwX5GiTIIfSZLZKN0u6Lmmyqzk-wey0ScQ9rX/s400/IMG_1452.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GuangHua Towers</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With classes, came group studies, assignments, exploring the surroundings, and of course, parties! Tonghe is the perfect place to live as an international student studying at Fudan. The place is perfect in terms of amenities, location and independence. You can study at anyone’s apartment, meet at Chartre’s Deli for a quick meeting over coffee and party like there’s no tomorrow. If you want to cook, there’s a kitchen in every apartment and if you want to eat out, there are plenty of options around to choose from. I would like to make a special mention of a little joint called Hannah’s near Tonghe run by an angel of a lady called, well, Hannah. In case you are an Indian and want to eat healthy food outside on a regular basis, Hannah’s is just the place for you. The lady, thanks to some of our friends, had become so fond of Indian students that she prepared a separate Indian menu with stuff like vegetable rice and chicken curry rice in case you are selective about what meat, if any you wish to eat.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/piyusharunkumar/BestOfShanghai?authkey=Gv1sRgCJ7yta77-KLznQE">Shanghai</a> has the reputation of being one of the best cities in the world and it totally lives up to it. The city has everything for everyone, there’s great transport, amazing infrastructure, an exciting nightlife and all that jazz that makes any cosmopolitan worth living. There will be small issues sometimes like communication or cuisine if you are conservative like me in the kind of food you eat but, the overall experience makes up for all that and does so nicely!</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now comes my favourite part – the people. In my experiences, I found the Chinese people to be extremely friendly, approachable and understanding. From the cabbie who sang Awaraa Hoon to professors who offered to conduct the same paper twice because some students were flying earlier; from the total strangers who would approach you and start talking to the nightclubs that would play Himesh Reshamiya’s version of Ek Hasina Thi (!!!), the people of Shanghai came across as a very affable lot. With the students, there were cultural confusions in the beginning of the semester but as time passed, we started understanding each other better thanks to the various cultural days organized by students from each country and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: yellow;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fg_l66Z5GRc">Varun’s</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EB-E_oGXl-M">dance</a></span> classes the overall group turned out to be extremely coherent. </div><div class="MsoNormal">As I wait for the next semester to start in Seoul, I sometimes wonder if times or going to get better or worse. After a start like this, your expectations start soaring new heights and that is when the pessimist in you also starts questioning everything. I am really not sure how it is going to be. But, I’m glad that I got a chance to study in a city like Shanghai in a university like Fudan; and that’s something that is going to stay with me always.</div><br />
</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-51971159777561219612011-01-04T04:46:00.001-08:002011-01-04T04:46:25.606-08:00Scribbles<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"मुस्कुरा लिए ज़रा सा, थोड़ी सी साँस ले ली, </div></div></div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">हम वहाँ वहाँ हरे हैं, बूँदें गिरी जहाँ जहाँ."</div></div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">-------------------------------------------</div></div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">"जो ठहरा हुआ था मंज़र.. उसके निशाँ मिले..</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">खाना -बदोश जज़्बे , जाने कहाँ चले..</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">इक साज़ उठा था कहीं, धुन थी कहीं सुनी..</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">सेहराओं के दामन में, तनहा से गुल खिले..</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">ठंडी सी रात का सफ़र, कटते नहीं लम्हे...</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">एहसास सर्द कर दे जो, कोई ऐसी हवा चले."</span></span></div></div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">--------------------------------------------------</div></div></div><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 28px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div><div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">"निकला था जब मैं घर से.. तुझे सीने में भर लिया था.. </span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;">एक अरसे बाद जा के, फिर आज साँस ली है.."</span></span></div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 28px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-60982267942443626402011-01-04T04:42:00.000-08:002011-01-04T04:42:15.261-08:00SILHOUETTES AND STILLETOS<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>1</u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">He was standing in his usual spot – the corner of the terrace that faced the sea. He loved that spot. Every time he was at Sharon’s place, which happened almost every Friday night thanks to her talent of finding reasons to party (today was because a friend of hers, an Australian photographer cum guitarist named Fred, who was holidaying in Goa had struck a deal with a local band to perform part-time), he would invariably end up at that particular spot, with his glass resting on the boundary of the terrace, his cigarette in his left hand with its smoke gradually rising up in the dark night, first in a straight line, then just getting lost in oblivion. He always felt that the path that the smoke trailed resembled his life. The fact that he could never make clear rings of smoke reinforced his belief.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Nice view! I wonder why there’s no one else here.” He heard a voice and looked around. He saw her standing there – wearing a satin blue evening dress and a glass of champagne in her right hand – facing the sea with the winds caressing her long, curly hair and her chandelier earrings dancing to their own tune in the wind. He smiled at her and said, “Just that the party is inside”.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yeah... whatever. But it’s nice here. I like the sea. Makes me feel alive.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“I just like the noise the waves make. It’s so quiet.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">She looked at him for a while, her eyes fixed at his face. He stood there, first looking at her, then focusing his gaze at the sea again, his frame silhouetted against the full moon. “I’m Vishakha.” She said. “Anubhav. Nice meeting you. Are you Sharon’s friend? Haven’t seen you here before.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Actually I’m on a holiday here. A friend of mine – Vini – is Sharon’s friend. I just came with her since we had nothing planned for the evening.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Vini Mathur?” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yeah. She and Sharon are old friends.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Ya I know Vini. She’s fun.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">The sea was getting calmer as the night progressed. Their conversation had moved on too. They were sitting on the terrace wall with her stilettos playfully dangling from her toes. Her glass was empty and rolling beside her. His glass was largely untouched. </div><div class="MsoNormal">She said, “Have you noticed the way these little boats venture out in the sea during night? The fishermen need to leave early to be able to catch fish early in the morning in order to sell them at a good price. For them, life is a never-ending battle for survival. Each day brings an opportunity to do things differently, to try something new – even though the goal of each day is the same.” He said, “If you look at it, we’re all fishermen here in the sea of life. Except for those who choose to stay at the shore and wait for the waves to stop.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“But waves never stop, do they?” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Nope, they’re the heartbeats of the sea.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">The wind kept blowing. The sea breeze carried her fragrance to him – the all too familiar Chanel Allure. He tried not to pay too much attention to it, but it was something that he was still grappling with. He emptied his glass in a long swig. “I think I need another drink. What about you?” He asked. </div><div class="MsoNormal">She replied, “I think I’ll just go down. Vini must be looking for me.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">Looking at his watch, he said, “Yeah, we’ve been here for quite some time. Actually more than two hours!” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Seriously? It hardly seemed so! Anyways, nice talking to you. Let’s catch up sometime.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Sure! You carry on; I’ll go down in a while.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Bye, but don’t stay here for too long. It’s getting colder.” And she left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew he was never going to see her again. At least he hoped so.</div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /> </span></u></b> <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>2<o:p></o:p></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">He was staring at the wall of toothpastes on the shelf. There were at least twenty different brands with each offering 5 different types of toothpastes. There were flavoured ones with superheroes printed on them as well as herbal pastes claiming to be eco-friendly, though nicely packed in plastic bottles. “I just want something to brush my teeth with twice a day!” he muttered under his breath. “Hey there!” someone called him. He turned around and saw her standing with a full shopping cart.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Hi! Vishakha, right? What are you doing here?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Well, much as I’d like to say I own this store chain, the truth is that I’m shopping for my return journey.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“I had a feeling that you’re from a different planet when I met you at the party. Looking at the stuff you need for the journey, I’m kinda sure now!” He said smiling. She burst out laughing. “Actually most of this stuff is for Vini’s apartment. She was busy so I thought I’ll pick them up for her. I just needed some toothpaste for the journey. I have an early morning flight and I hate talking to people without brushing my teeth.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Aah, the toothpaste! Join the club. I don’t understand why we need one hundred different types of them!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I know! It’s as if life isn’t complicated enough already!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Actually it’s pretty simple. We seem to be hell-bent on making it complicated.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Hmm…”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“So you’re leaving tomorrow?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yup. Taking the 5:35 am Kingfisher flight.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“That reminds me… I never asked where you’re from.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I’m basically from Jaipur, but I’ve been living and working in Bangalore for past couple of years. What about you?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I’m from Lucknow. Came to Goa to study management and then started working here as well. I work for a chain of bookstores, looking at their management and promotion related stuff.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Nice. Sounds good. I’m into teaching. I teach Biology at the Christ College.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s a nice place, Bangalore. I’ve been there a few times for work. I love the greenery there.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It used to be greener. And much more pleasant. Past couple of years the city has just bloated like a hot air balloon. Thanks to the IT revolution.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s the same everywhere. Goa used to be very different when I came here too.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">As they were talking, Anubhav, for the first time, took a good look at her. She had a round face, curly hair and round, dark eyes. Her frame was petite and skin was wheatish fair. At five-foot three, she had the appearance that could look average or striking depending on how she wanted to look. But the one thing that Anubhav could clearly tell was that there was a very poised, graceful feminine air about her that commanded respect without making the other person uncomfortable. Anubhav knew what it was. She had class.</div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, “Would you like to have some coffee? I know a place in this mall where we can sit and talk. And of course the coffee is pretty decent.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I’m not sure. Vini must be getting back home”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Well knowing Vini if she comes to know that I didn’t treat her guest with some coffee, I’m sure I’ll be in a lot of trouble! Besides, it’ll be an absolute honour and pleasure. But if you’re getting late, I totally understand.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Umm… well let’s go. All this toothpaste selection has made me dizzy anyways!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Great!”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">They walked into a bookstore on the ground floor. On the right, there was a section where one could sit across low-set couches with tables in the middle and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. There were paintings on the walls and soothing lights. She said, “Nice place. Hang on; you said you work for a bookstore chain. Is this one of their stores?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He smiled. She asked, “And do these people know that you’re their boss?” He replied, “No they don’t. And I’m just another customer right now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">They sat facing each other in a corner. As they talked, with the conversation ranging from books to music to business to arts to philosophy, Anubhav couldn’t help noticing her wide knowledge on each topic as well as her amazing conversational skills. He felt the promise he had made to himself three years ago, gradually fading away. And he knew that he was being stupid. Again.</div><div class="MsoNormal">They finished two cups of coffee each, talked for close to three hours and by the time they looked at the clock, it sun was setting outside. She exclaimed, “Oh God! It’s almost evening! I had promised Vini that we’ll go out for dinner and I’m gonna be late! Man! I gotta get myself a wrist watch!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">That was when Anubhav noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wrist watch. That was also when he noticed a beautiful diamond ring on her right hand ring finger. In that fraction of a second, he went through hope, happiness, disappointment and delusion, all mixed together. He also realized that he was smiling, somewhat idiotically. He said, “Oh! I’m so sorry! I totally forgot! How’re you planning to get back?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I’ll just get a cab. Could we please leave? I’m really sorry but I hope you understand.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I could drop you home. I haven’t met Vini since the party so I’ll say hi to her as well.” </div><div class="MsoNormal">“No its ok. I have to finish some work on my way too.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, somewhat restraining himself, “Fine. Let’s go.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">She rushed out of the mall, hurriedly called for a cab and got in. As the cab left, she said, “Thanks for the coffee! Bye!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, “Thank you.” And smiled. </div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /> </span></u></b> <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>3<o:p></o:p></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny was just being his usual self – funny and loud – starting with some old Hindi song and making a total parody of it without realizing it thanks to his pathetic memory. Raj, the Old Monk, was quietly sipping his rum with his iPod plugged in one ear and the other one open for abuse raining from Benny’s version of Kya Se Kya Ho Gaya. The three of them, they had been like this since their MBA days. And without ever saying in words, they knew that they were friends for life. No grudges, no secrets and except for Anubhav, no sense of seriousness towards life. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav said, “I met her again today, the girl I met at Sharon’s place last week.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny replied, “Who? The one who works at the radio station?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Old Monk said, with the iPod still plugged in his left ear, “No. this one’s Vini’s friend. And there’s no one he’s met who works at the radio station.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny – “Ya, so?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav – “Nothing. I kinda liked her. But turns out she’s engaged.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny – “Kya Se Kya Ho Gaya…”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj – “Did she tell you?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav – “I saw the ring on her finger”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj – “Which hand? Right or left?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav – “Right. But how does it matter?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj – “Actually it does. The engagement ring is worn on the left hand”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav – “What? Bull!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj just gave him his iPod. Anubhav saw there was a Wikipedia page open on it with the title, ‘Engagement Ring’.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny – “Dude! Haven’t you seen DDLJ? Rani Mukherjee tells Shah Rukh about this fact in the movie.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Both Raj and Anubhav gave him a cold stare and then burst out laughing. After a while, when Benny was more drunk and less noisy, Raj said to Anubhav, “Are you sure you liked her?” Anubhav nodded. “Then what’s the problem?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You know what the problem is.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Don’t you think you’re stretching this a little too far?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“No.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yes you are.” Benny shouted from across the hall. He always had sharp ears and was always able to minutely follow things without ever really seeming to be paying any attention. </div><div class="MsoNormal">He continued, “What happened to Sarah was sad. And we’re all sad about it. No offences but I miss her almost as much as you do. And I’m sure the Monk does so too. But that’s life bro! You can’t deny yourself your legitimate share of happiness just because medical science does not have a cure for some freak disease! Have you ever thought how Sarah must be feeling looking at you from up there? And who do you think would she be blaming for this? Every moment of happiness that you deny yourself is also a moment of happiness that you take away from her, and from us. But how the hell does any of this matter to you? At least I never feel it does.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Both Anubhav and Raj were shocked. After a minute of silence, Raj said, “I think Benny is right”. Anubhav went to the balcony. He always had trouble crying in front of people.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Both Raj and Benny had passed out. Anubhav was sitting in the balcony. The day was still fresh in his mind. Sarah was lying in her hospital bed, her beautiful face shrunk to its skull, her hair lifeless, and her eyes – those big, beautiful eyes – looking exhausted fighting against the pain for so long. He was looking at her. She asked, “What are you looking at?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">She closed her eyes and gave a faint smile. He said, “Benny wanted to come, but had to go for some urgent work at the last moment.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I knew he wouldn’t come. When was the last time you slept properly?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Who? Me? I sleep like a log!” He lied. She gave him that look. He turned his face away. </div><div class="MsoNormal">She said, “Baby there’s nothing we can do about this. You have done much more than what was needed. We’re just too small for this. The best we can do is to accept it and move on. See, I’ve already moved on. I think the doctor who comes to see me is cute!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, his face flushed, “if you ever use that phrase, move on, again, I’ll kill you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">She said, smiling, “Anubhav, Move on.” And closed her eyes. That was the last breath she took.</div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /> </span></u></b> <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>4<o:p></o:p></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">It was four in the morning. Suddenly he felt that a load had been lifted off his chest. He felt that things were getting cleared up finally. He knew what he was going to do. He rushed inside the hall of his apartment where Benny and Raj were sleeping. “Guys, wake up!” Benny didn’t move. Raj groggily said, “Huh? What happened?” Anubhav said, “We’re going to the airport.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj, surprised – “What? Seriously?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav – “Yup. Seriously.” And smiled.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny said, without moving, “Dude I was just blabbering! You took that seriously? Go sleep it off!”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Raj – “Let’s go Benny. Otherwise he’ll miss the flight.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Benny – “Flight? What flight?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anubhav screamed, “Just shut up and let’s go!!” and they ran out of the apartment.</div><div class="MsoNormal">They reached the airport in about forty minutes. On the way, Anubhav realized that he didn’t have Vishakha’s phone number or any personal contact information. And somehow he didn’t want to get Vini involved into this. All he knew was that she was taking the 5:35 am Kingfisher flight to Bangalore. After reaching the airport, he realized that the security check-ins had already started. His heart started beating faster. What if she’d already gone inside?</div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" /> </span> <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>5<o:p></o:p></u></b></div><div class="MsoNormal">She hadn’t gone inside. She was still waiting outside, though a little far from where he was, not quite sure what she was waiting for. At one level it felt strange and childish, at the other level, it felt absolutely real and definite. But with every minute that passed, her hopes diminished and she felt more and more silly.</div><div class="MsoNormal">He finally saw her standing in the distance, looking in the other direction without really looking at anything. He walked up to her, his heart pounding. Just when he reached near her, as if on cue, she turned around. They stood there for a second, looking at each other, then finally he said, “Hope you didn’t forget to brush your teeth. I’d love to talk!” and she again burst out laughing. Finally she said, “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Neither was I” he said, “But not anymore.” She smiled at him. </div><div class="MsoNormal">He said, “Sorry I couldn’t get any flowers for you, but I got this instead. Hope you like it.” And extended a small box to her. </div><div class="MsoNormal">It was Chanel Allure.</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-5768061427207795222010-06-05T08:03:00.000-07:002010-06-05T08:03:04.229-07:00Last Year, This Time<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">It was the same date last year. Recession had hit everyone in more ways than anyone can ever describe in one blog post. I was desperately trying to find another job before I was thrown out of my current one. Needless to say, I was not meeting any success and with every passing day, my options, and hopes, were diminishing. I had everything just a few weeks back. A well paying job, great friends, a comfortable flat that I had so enthusiastically set up and all of a sudden it came crashing down. It was not just a job loss. It was a phase which I never imagined would come in my life. I always thought I was too smart, well-connected and secure to feel any threat whatsoever from the recession. I used to tell everyone how one could still manage to survive and thrive in the industry if one were smart enough. And yet, there I was – begging anyone and everyone to arrange a interview call for me, attending any interview call that I could manage to get and praying, desperately, to the Gods I never believed in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet things were not showing any signs of improvement.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents had come over, as they usually used to do in the summers. By the time they arrived here, I was on a paid leave from my employers which basically meant that I had to wait until they asked me and half of the rest of organization, to formally resign and fend for themselves. It used to be a different scenario in earlier summers. We used to have a great time together as a family. I got to spend time with my parents the way I never could before I started earning. A boarding school upbringing though teaches you so much about life, it deprives you of those childhood memories that most kids grow up with of their families. So when my parents used to arrive, I used to spend a lot of time with them. Buy things for them, take them to various places and connect with them on a level which I never thought I could earlier. And the joy that you see in their eyes when they see you doing well in life. But this year was different.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">This year, everyday, I used to wake up, check my mails hoping to see some positive news from anywhere, and then spend the rest of the day sitting, pretending as if nothing had happened. But we all knew too well what was happening. And what it was doing to all of us. Then the day came. It was a Friday. My father is an avid tabla player. And as this was a longer trip to Bangalore, he had carried his tabla with him. Everyday post lunch he used to play it for a couple of hours and for him, that Friday was no different. I got up, got dressed and reached my office where they had called us for a “meeting”. As expected, they told us that they were sorry that they could not do anything for us and asked us to formally resign. I resigned and came home. When I reached home, dad was playing the tabla. Looking at me, he asked me how the meeting went. I told him that I have resigned and sank into the sofa. He said “ok” and started playing again. I was shocked. I told him, “I have resigned and I don’t know what I’m going to do now.” He said, “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright”, and resumed the tabla. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not sure how to react to this whole situation. Two hours later, I got a call on my mobile. It was Chetan LS – then VP of HR, Aditi Technologies. He told that he came to know that I was looking for a job change and asked if I could join Aditi again. All I could say was “yes”. He said, “fine, let me roll out an offer for you, can you join us on Monday?” All I could say was “yes”. And then I looked at my dad, he was still playing the tabla, smiling.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">It’s been a year from that incident. Things have changed a lot, and, thankfully, for the better. When I look back at this date exactly a year back, I realize that I grew so much as a person in those couple of hours. In those few hours, without saying anything, my dad taught me the importance of staying humble and positive, and the importance of staying calm in difficult situations. He taught me that irrespective of how tough the situation is, it always changes. What matters is how we handle the change. And how we hold our nerves while the transition is happening. And yes, how important it is to know how to play a musical instrument! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">As I take another huge leap of faith in my life, I feel a strange calm surrounding me. I know that no matter what I come across in future, I will survive. And the music will play on!</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-67051394646362858412010-02-16T10:25:00.000-08:002010-02-16T10:25:57.917-08:00I am..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEbgT36cAtIupNRJXWXTmVMQl8l0NLivcbzoF_ag7ysswt4TnXZA7vNPwpWN6MjdC1-mwkik2XKF2tc-cOj1rqUVR-n53bVrf5QdMlEzWt3rHTL70WdjF3k2iKWSrxzVEfCQzKLt8mEBp/s1600-h/2056174749_98591accb3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEbgT36cAtIupNRJXWXTmVMQl8l0NLivcbzoF_ag7ysswt4TnXZA7vNPwpWN6MjdC1-mwkik2XKF2tc-cOj1rqUVR-n53bVrf5QdMlEzWt3rHTL70WdjF3k2iKWSrxzVEfCQzKLt8mEBp/s320/2056174749_98591accb3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s a Saturday afternoon… I’m on my bike going somewhere on the Outer Ring Road... I’m doing somewhere between 75-85..( can’t be precise as the speedo stopped working sometime back)..</div><div class="MsoNormal">. </div><div class="MsoNormal">There’s Timberland and Timberlake blaring Carry Out in the earphones… I can feel the warm sun on the back of my neck…it’s a beautiful day.. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I see an SUV trying to take over from the left..i loosen the throttle a bit.. the SUV pedals to catch up.. I lazily let go of the throttle fully and can see the SUV diminish into the distance..</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as I cross it, I give a lazy, dismissive nod to the driver and move on.. the music still pumping in my ears.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I might be nothing. I might have been a loser all my life. But, in that one moment, for those few seconds… </div><div class="MsoNormal">I am The King of Cool.</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-4636894674207278562009-12-30T10:43:00.000-08:002009-12-30T10:43:54.989-08:00Confessions of an Unfaithful Lover<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Love, unlike success, at least in my opinion, does not have a definitive moment. Is it the first sight, or the first touch, or the first sense of ownership or the first feeling of belonging? Can we point at any one moment and say that this moment was when we fell in love? Can we say that I was not in love before so-and-so moment and I was in love after that? No. it’s a gradual process, like growing up. We do not know how much we have grown until we stand against that measuring scale or, in some cases, over the weighing scale.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She came into my life during college. I had just rented a flat with my friends and was trying to celebrate my newfound freedom in every possible way I could think of. The one problem that kept dampening my spirits and messing my shoes was the torturous bus rides to college from my flat. But the day she came into my life, it all changed. I started enjoying the commute, I was among the cool dudes of my class and the envy of most of the other guys. It was known to me from the very beginning that she had once belonged to someone else. She never tried to hide it from me, rather made it a point that I accepted her with her past, which I wholeheartedly did. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She was from Haryana. Had been born and brought up there, even met the first man in her life there. Her moods, her tantrums, her carefree attitude and the wildness- it had Haryana written all over her. Right from the first time I met her, I knew there was something between us. And we got along so well. My friends loved her, came to me so that they could get to spend some time with her. She always treated them well, and made sure that she was there whenever anyone needed her, but never at the cost of my feelings. The two years that I spent in college with her by my side had so many memories.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She saved me once from getting caught in a fight with some local rowdies. Once saved me from coming under a bus because of some crazy mood swings. After my first placement exam where I had done extremely well and was confident of getting the job offer, on our way back, out of sheer childish happiness, I took off my helmet and kissed her right on her face. In the middle of the traffic with a puzzled crowd looking at me, I kissed her and then just zoomed off. I don’t know what she thought at that point but I felt her smile.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Whenever I was in trouble, she ensured that I was safe. She ensured that I reached home safely after my drunken parties and late night drives. She made sure that I was on time for college and for my MBA coaching classes and she ensured that I beat all other guys on our bike races on the NH7 on our way back after classes. I, on my part, took her for granted for most of the time and paid attention to her only when she, in her ever so polite ways, could take it no more. I was just too busy building my future and having a good time to acknowledge that she deserved better. Then college got over. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I joined my new job – a very good break for a fresher out of college. Money was no more a constraint and I was really happy to have her by my side since she was the one who got me there. She still was my constant companion and most of my new friends at work saw us together. But sometimes they, and some of my college friends started to jokingly mention that I was too good for her. Everyone was getting new partners and gradually she became the butt of all jokes on me. I tried to defend her and always told them that nothing would ever come between us and I was happy with her just the way she was. But, deep within, something was changing. I wanted to soak up this new life and wanted her to be just as excited about it as I was but she, or rather, “C”, was becoming weaker, older and less enthusiastic about my adventures. I was torn between my aspirations and her growing lack of passion, and this gap was widening every day.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was at this point that “P” came into my life. She was the new one in town. I was instantly besotted by her full body, those cat eyes and that husky voice. Right from the first time I set my eyes on her, she promised a wild time and showed the potential to deliver. A creature of the night, she was all Bangalore. I was the first man in her life and yes, like “C”, she looked great in red. Very soon I found myself thinking about her all the time – even when I was with “C”. I was setting targets and goals to get her, saving money and making plans to accommodate the expenses that were due once she came into my life and then, one fine evening, I brought “P” home. I knew “C” would be shocked and surprised but I had given up on her long back. To my utter frustration, “C” never reacted. She just resigned herself to her designated spot in our house and stayed there – quietly, never mentioning a word, never asking, never demanding anything from me. I moved on, and moved on fast. “P” was everything that I ever wanted and more. She was wild yet sensible, crazy yet mature and strong yet smooth. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And thus about eighteen months passed. “C” had reduced herself to a carcass. One could barely tell by looking at her that she was the same “C” that once ran, laughed, played and threw tantrums. Much as I was happy with “P”, I knew that I had certain duties towards “C” too. I tried to find a new partner for her but she had just stopped showing any signs of life. I tried to take her to her doctor but he told me that she had no chance of revival and it would be best to just let her go.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Sirjee aap tension mat lo. Ye to hamara roz ka kaam hai.” With these words, the bulky man and his assistant reassured me that they will take “C” to her rightful place properly. I was feeling terrible but this was something that needed to be done for C’s own good. They dragged her skeletal frame out of the gate of my house and took her into the street, casting a sad shadow of my “C” as she walked under the streetlights, taking a final turn and disappearing forever into the darkness. I broke into tears. “P” was standing in the porch but I paid no attention to her and got inside the house and went straight to sleep.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It has been more than a year since that day and I am very happy with “P”. There have been many stories and memories and P has never ever given me a chance to complain. I have loads of pictures of myself with “P” but it’s funny that I do not have a single picture of “C” with me. I could not afford a camera in those days when she was with me and when I could, I had already brought “P” into my life. But sometimes I wonder if what I did was right. Could I have done it any better? Any differently?</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I hope “C”, wherever she is, is well looked after and taken care of. And I hope she forgives me. “C”, you will always be my first one. And as they say, the first ones are the most special.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">P.S. – In case the reader is still wondering, “C” refers to Bajaj Caliber 135cc – the bike I had in college, and “P” is Bajaj Pulsar 150cc– my current bike.</span><br />
</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-81891252684801012202009-12-19T00:58:00.000-08:002009-12-19T06:13:39.312-08:00The Uncut Diamond<div class="MsoNormal">A newspaper report today said that there are <a href="http://www.wfp.org/hunger/stats">over a billion undernourished people in the world</a>. This means that roughly every sixth human being on this planet does not have enough to eat. And about a third of these people are from India. India – where there are more than <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Communications_in_India">500 million mobile phone connections</a>. Combining these two pieces of information we can roughly say that one in every five Indians is likely to be having a mobile phone, though he may not be able to afford two square meals a day. This country, just like its people, is a painful juxtaposition of many such contradictions.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I spent yesterday evening at a five-star heritage hotel sipping some fine scotch in a beautiful garden listening to a famous singer sing some sufi songs about the oneness of God and the bliss of complete surrender. There was also a whole family begging for its next meal at the traffic signal outside the hotel. I live in a city which is called the Silicon Valley of India. I come from a state which is among the least developed in the country where most of the kids never get to appear for their high school exams. The India that shines is visible to all. It is talked about in newspapers, written about in books and shown in movies. This India is truly shining. It has a fire that gives it its glow. We all see the glow, we all talk about the fire but when it comes to the fuel that powers this fire, we are reluctant to acknowledge - almost dismissive and embarrassed to admit its existence. This fuel is what provides India (the shining one), with its manpower in the form of skilled and unskilled labor to write computer software as well as to harvest potatoes, with its farmers and masons to cultivate fields and build IT parks and domestic helps for its too-busy-to-clean-their-own-home executives and housewives. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There is a huge geographic distance between these two Indias. And the distance between their developmental statuses is, well, of years and decades though it could as well be of light-years except for the fact that they both exist on the same planet. So, as they said in the opening sequence of Star Wars, “In a galaxy far, far away”, there exists another India. An India where you can still see Rajdoot motorcycles, discover what a real gulab-jamun tastes like, where women can look devastatingly beautiful in a simple salwar-kameez and where there are countless love stories that started and ended without the couple ever so much as holding each other’s hands. This is the India that lives in the small-towns. This is the lesser India that was failed by its richer brothers. This is the India that was denied what it rightfully deserved but was too humble to demand – an acknowledgement.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Among other things that the government and the electorate – and by electorate I mean the people who actually vote - has refused to see in this India, is the amazing growth opportunity. They saw the muck. They knew it’s a pain to clean it, but they failed to see what lay hidden under it. The business opportunities in each and every sector, the market for cheaper technologies and availability of resources are just too exciting for anyone to ignore, provided they take a first look. These markets are just opening up now and anyone who has the foresight to tap into this movement is bound to reap benefits way beyond one’s wildest imaginations. This India does not need philanthropists or their charity. It does not need Smart Alecs who borrow twenty thousand rupees from their dads, open a company in their garage with a bunch of friends and soon become millionaires through some smart internet idea and viral marketing. It needs real visionaries. It needs people who have the vision to see beyond the obvious problems, the belly to take strong challenges and bring about a mass movement. And it is more than willing to lap it all up. The resident youth of this India is just waiting for one such movement. Unlike the youth in their parents’ times which saw the fall from being the cultural and intellectual heart of India to being referred to as the “sandaas” (cesspool) of India so suddenly that they simply did not know what to do, this youth has seen the difference all his life. He has lived his whole life bearing the insult, beatings, prejudices and ruthless jokes and now he has had enough. He needs the same amount of recognition that the rest of his generation get because, time and again, he has proved that given the right opportunities, he is just as capable as anyone else. It is about time that the society looked at the small-town India as the new India - the diamond that is still uncut - and saw that it’s in its own interest to develop it – for India to really shine.<br />
</div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-64172683733652520512009-10-26T04:35:00.000-07:002009-10-26T04:35:08.188-07:00बूँद...( In Hindi)<b>बूँद..</b>.<br />
यूँ ही निकल गया था वो,<br />
अनमना सा, जैसे कोई उम्मीद अभी टूटी हो ..<br />
सर झुका था ज़रा सा, शायद अश्क़ छुपाने के लिए,<br />
बहुत देर वो मेरी पलकों पे रुका था,<br />
मैंने ही रोका हुआ था ज़बरदस्ती, वो तो कबसे जिद कर रहा था...<br />
फिर पलकों से निकल के, होठों के रास्ते, <br />
मेरे हाथों की लकीरों से होता हुआ... मेरा माज़ी भिगा गया..<br />
या शायद वो खुद ही एक आँसू की बूँद था...piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-90575381187815693372009-10-23T12:32:00.000-07:002009-10-23T12:41:23.219-07:00Kasturi...The musk deer is a funny creature. It has a very strong fragrance emanating from between his abdomen and genitals that nature has given it to attract mates, but he spends most of his life hopping mad trying to figure out the source of that fragrance.<br />
<br />
But then, again, aren't we all like that? Don't we all spend our lifetime trying to find something? Most of us spend our entire life without ever coming to know what that "something" is. And those few of us who correctly know what they want out of life, don't they too spend a good amount of time trying to figure out how to get it? We give it different names. We call it the search, fulfillment, contentment, happinness. We seek for it in the form of approval, appreciation, acknowledgement. We even confuse it with possessions, acquisitions, victories and yet, after achieving all that and more, feel empty inside. We try to look our best because we think that's what will make us happy. We try to make as much money as we can so that we can buy all the things that will make us happy. We try to fall in love because we feel having someone in our lives will make us happy. And when we get all this, we still feel empty inside. We feel we have it, but we want more of it. So we start all over again. Then, one fine day, when we are too old to run around, we sit and mourn what a waste our whole life has been.<br />
<br />
It is not the quest which is wrong.It is the manifestation of the goal in our minds that needs to be reassessed. We need to delve deeper. The thing that we are searching all around us is <i>within</i> us. All the source of joy, happiness, contentment, fulfillment is situated deep inside us, and we, like the musk deer, keep searching for it in every possible place except where we should actually be looking for it. We spend our lifetime chasing our dreams and aspirations and yet feel worthless because we are chasing momentary pleasures at the cost of something much more ephemeral - the joy of being the great creation that we are. We - each one of us - with our strengths, weaknesses, abilities, imperfections are unique and beautiful in our own ways. There is no yardstick that can proclaim one to be better than the other since that is not how we were meant to be. Each of us is a marvel of nature meant to be appreciated for what he or she is and not criticized for what he or she isn't. The individual as a whole is greater than the sum of its parts because the individual has a purpose. The purpose of the individual - the purpose of our being put up in this world, is not to conquer it, but to be a part of it and add to its beauty. It is only when we think and act in accordance with this fact that we truly feel happy.<br />
Everything else is just an illusion.<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"></span>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-23043395606128325202009-10-21T12:04:00.000-07:002010-06-14T05:36:08.409-07:00Nazariya..<div style="background-color: black; color: white;">Perspective. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">the faculty of seeing all the relevant data in a meaningful relationship.</span></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: black; clear: both; color: white; text-align: center;"><a bitly="BITLY_PROCESSED" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-i3F8P4TUekTtQJ8JDk5KlUxaeHPJUD17COrCPRfItWLqoy7oneV4JAogf-AcUFGiF8gtNPGILSlGP-ywbeHtQwFj3TIPCSiukrIMo3brmQwDIVkFzAxym8yCJNFZDRXnum1z3iM-Pe32/s1600-h/DSC02995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-i3F8P4TUekTtQJ8JDk5KlUxaeHPJUD17COrCPRfItWLqoy7oneV4JAogf-AcUFGiF8gtNPGILSlGP-ywbeHtQwFj3TIPCSiukrIMo3brmQwDIVkFzAxym8yCJNFZDRXnum1z3iM-Pe32/s320/DSC02995.JPG" /></a></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">During one of our endless chat sessions at the expense of our "billed" time, Ria showed me a sketch that she had drawn recently. The picture, among other things, had a sun in the distant horizon. when i asked whether it was a sunrise or a sunset, she said it's a sunset. i argued that it could as well be a sunrise and that would give a completely different meaning to the picture. Later, I was thinking how just by looking at a picture in a different way, (mind you i'm not making any changes in the picture per se. i am just thinking in a different way than earlier while looking at the picture) we give it a whole new meaning. We all come across text meant to inspire us in the form of forwarded mails, SMSes, greeting cards, wallpapers, t-shirt graffiti and every other conceivable medium of conveying a message trying to tell us to be positive. There is so much of it all around us that one at times wonders if it's just a clever arrangements of words structured to hit a particular spot or there is actually some truth to it.</span></span></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">The answer lies in the sweet spot somewhere in the middle. There is so much of it around us because it is very easy to conjure up words like hope, attitude, ants, mountains etc. and come up with something that sounds a little uplifting. Most of these permutations and combinations are, to a large extent, true as well. It might sound unsettling, especially to engineers like me and other similar logic-driven, solution-oriented creatures that one could simply solve problems by changing one's perspective. But it's true nevertheless. This is because the way we look at a problem, other than the ones we come across in textbooks, decides how we approach it. I am talking about the problems that we come across in our daily lives. The problems in dealing with circumstances, people, crises, opportunities v/s moralities, present v/s past v/s future and other similar things. How you look at something decides, on a subconscious level, how you are going to face it. That, in turn, decides your approach which to a large extent decide the strength of your efforts and ultimately gives you a result. </span></span></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">It might sound easier than people find it to be but the idea is not to assess the ease, but the very truthfulness of the claim. Having a different perspective may not make your problems disappear, but it definitely lets you prepare better. You can study before an important exam hoping to pass it or you can study telling yourself that you're NOT going to fail, come what may. In the first approach, you would be making the minimum necessary effort which, according to your judgement, should be enough to help you clear the exam whereas, in the second one, you would leave no stone unturned to ensure that you do not leave any possibility of failure. I don't think I need to explain which approach has a higher probability of success.</span></span></div><div style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">It is this difference in attitudes that differentiates the achievers from the masses, and the legends from the achievers. It is this attitude that decides, whether it's a sunset - when things are over and it's time to go home, or it's sunrise - full of possibilities and opportunities. They are exact opposites of each other and yet, look the same, as if on purpose. I think it's a master stroke of the Creator, done as an effort for us to look at it and decide how we're going to see it. He gave us the choice, and he told us the word - Perspective, Drushtikon, Nazariya.</span></span></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-68248328022357089552009-10-20T13:27:00.001-07:002009-10-20T13:27:53.589-07:00Wo jo shayar tha...<p>There is something timeless about Gulzar. There is something in his writing that makes it so elemental, so basic, so rooted in the essence of life that it becomes impossible to restrict the meaning of his lines to a one-dimensional interpretation. Be it the universal pain and wisdom of <i>tujhse naraaz nahin zidagi, hairaan hoon</i>,or the happy-sad longing of <i>chhod aaye hum wo galiyaan </i> or the haunting <i>Mera kuch Samaan</i>, you are quite likely to be humming the same Gulzar song in two very different moods without finding the song not suiting the mood. Such is the man’s grip on emotions that, when he ends his poem “<i>mujhko bhi tarqeeb sikha koi yaar julahe</i>” with the lines <i>“maine to ik baar buna tha ek hi rishta .. par uski saari girhein saaf nazar aati hain mere yaar julahe..”</i> you can almost feel the pain touching you. Even after five decades of songwriting, his work is always reflection of a man who exactly knows what he wants to convey, and, I have a feeling, always smiles after finding such an appropriate expression.</p> <p>Gulzar’s songs or never just a bunch of rhyming lines with some catchy, repetitive or beaten words thrown in. Every line, every word, every nuance of a dialect feels like tender strokes of a master sculptor working towards creating a greater entity without ever losing its individual significance. It’s sheer genius to be able to write songs like<i>Beedi</i> and <i>Namak</i> from Omkara, <i>Kallu Mama</i> from Satya, and, I’m sure we all sang this song as kids, <i>Lakdi ki Kaathi</i> from Masoom.</p> <p>If his songs are a treasure trove of emotions, his other creative pursuits of poetry, short stories and movies are equally poignant. Some of his movies rate among the greatest in Indian cinema. Aandhi, Angoor and Ijaazat are right up there with the greatest and the best that Hindi films have produced. In his long journey, Gulzar has shown unmatched multifaceted creative genius which has touched millions of lives worldwide. His words have been the silent lamp in long, lonely nights to some; naughty and brash youthfulness to others. From deep philosophies in simple words to funny gibberish that bring out the child in you, there is nothing that this man has not touched and, consequently, turned into gold.</p> <p>It was for these and many other reasons that I decided to dedicate my first PFC post to Gulzar Sa’ab – the man who could well be the reason I got into writing. Thanks for the words Sir!</p><p><br /></p><p><i>“Ik baar waqt se, lamha gira kahin..</i></p> <p><i>Wahan daastaan mili, lamha kahin nahin..</i>”</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-55459215953238887262009-10-20T13:25:00.000-07:002009-10-20T13:27:02.380-07:00The Pyre<div id="msgcns!13AEFA822F8BE7A0!182" class="bvMsg"><p style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><b>THE PYRE</b></span></p> <p>It’s a little chilly tonight. The sky is clear, filled with stars appearing like little holes in a black sheet trying to cover a dazzling light on the other side. I am sitting next to my son, who has now stopped crying and is staring rather blankly at the fire, probably waiting for it to die too. I want to console him. But then something stops me. “Death is the biggest truth of life” I had told him a couple of weeks back. Take it as a part of life. Be a man – as I jokingly used to tell him every time he fell from his bicycle and came crying. But that was then.</p> <p>It’s the same with all departures. You always have things to do, words to tell before you leave. But you leave anyway. It was the same with me. Looking back, there is so much that I wanted to do. So much that I kept pushing to the next day, the next moment. Until I ran out of them.<span style=""> </span>As I sit here, I’m still worried about my wife’s health, my son’s future, my friend’s pension and so many other things. I know there is nothing that I can do about these things now. In fact I know, more than anyone else out there, that there is no point in worrying about these things. But still I find it hard to let go. All our lives we keep building ties that bind us with each other. There are ties of love, promises, duties, responsibilities which stop us from doing so many things. We keep complaining about how little freedom we have because of these ties around us in every form and yet, now that I have been freed of all these ties, I’m longing for them.</p> <p>I remember my wife’s face today morning. She had been crying at my bedside all night. Her face had become pale. I have no idea when was the last time she had eaten properly. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her and how grateful I was for all that she had done for me all through our married life. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was to have hurt her so many times and how proud I was of all that she had done to help me every single moment. I tried to look at her withered face. A smile on that face meant more to me than anything else in the world. But I could barely keep my eyes open. When I tried to say something, I couldn’t manage to form words. My hands didn’t move.</p> <p>I had heard all sorts of interpretations about death and what follows it. To me it was the ultimate liberation. I used to think of it as a great light into which a soul would merge, like a lamp merging in the sun. it was the transition from form to the formless, from aakar to nirakaar. </p> <p>As I look around, I see a few other piers too. People just waking up to the realization that their worldly bindings do not hold anymore.<span style=""> </span>That they have already undertaken their final journeys without having any idea about the direction or the destination.<span style=""> </span>That they are not going home this time. I hope I get to know these people. I hope I can make some fresh bonds.</p> <p>There is a strange calmness that I am feeling around me now. All my life I had been worried about things. Worried about future, securing the future of my loved ones, accumulating little possessions and the protecting them but now, I have let go. My favorite watch is still showing time, but I am beyond time now. My house is still intact, but I am one with the sky and the wind now. There is something that tells me that I still have some time left before my next journey begins.<span style=""> </span>I do not mind waiting now. </p> <p>The fire is out. I once again look at my son. He is so much my reflection at his age. I hope he goes on to live a rich and fulfilling life. He has collected the last remains of my body along with the ashes and is preparing to leave now. With his departure, my last connection with the physical world has come to an end. Even though I know this, there is no anguish inside me. I do not make an attempt to stop him from leaving or to go with him. I do not want to change the course of events anymore. I am not becoming peaceful. Now…, I am peace. </p> <p>As I think of my granddaughter, I recall the incident when I once told her that people who die go into the sky and become stars. She had, in her childish innocence, asked me if I would become a star too, and I had told her that I would. I had also pointed to a location in sky telling her that would be from where I would twinkle smiling at her. I just hope I am allowed to honor my promise. </p> <p style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style=""><span style="">-<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;"> </span></span></span></p> <p> </p> </div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-69516709290064504682009-10-20T13:24:00.000-07:002009-10-20T13:25:42.949-07:00Sorry Mumbai<p>As I play the incidents of the weekend gone by into my head one more time, the bitterness inside finally starts moving from vague and diffused to focused and specific. Even though I have not lost anyone I personally knew in any of the terror attacks I have this lump inside me made of sorrow, bitterness, anguish, fear and guilt. I feel that the people who should be actually held responsible for this accident are not the politicians or government, or for that matter, even the terrorists who carried out the attack. The real culprits of this attack - who have allowed an incident so painful to take place, who have scarred the collective memory of this country forever, who have shaken the very faith of humanity in the fundamental principles of unity and brotherhood are, unfortunately but truly, WE - The People. </p><p>We are responsible because we allow the wrong, undeserving, unqualified people to contest elections, to control high offices, and to decide our fate. We are responsible for encouraging a complete destruction of the moral fabric of humanity by our utter indifference. We are responsible for everything that is wrong with us today because WE HAVE CHOSEN TO BURY OUR FACES IN SAND. We have lost our friends, relatives, colleagues in these terror attacks because when someone of us wanted to join politics, we insisted he became a businessman. When someone wanted to be a soldier, we preferred he became an engineer. We are responsible because it does not matter to us who is dying outside as long as we are safe inside. It never occurs to us that if it was them today, it could be us tomorrow. </p><p>We are not safe in our malls, parks, buses, trains, airports, railway stations, five-star hotels, cars. We don't know when our children leave for school if we'll ever see them again. We don't know if our loved ones will get back home alive when they leave for work. And the saddest part of this whole situation is that we expect the government and police to protect our families. The official list of people who lost their lives in the Mumbai carnage stands at 178. Even though this number is debatable, each of these people meant the world to someone. Let's just imagine that one of these was someone we knew. Would we still expect the government to "do something" to save them? Let's imagine that our our house caught fire. Would we still wait for the government and the system to do something? </p><p>The problem our country faces is not bad governance or poor security, the real problem of this country is the attitude of its citizens. We, despite being first the citizens of this country, are anything and everything before being an Indian. We belong to our caste, community and state so much that we do not belong to India anymore. It's only when an incident like this takes place that a lot of song-and-dance is made about national issues. Once the dust settles, we move back to the apparently more critical issues of who should be allowed inside Mumbai and who should be included in the national cricket team. We are never bothered about how to ensure that the right candidates get to contest elections safely. We don't care if millions of children have to quit education and start working before they turn fifteen as long as our child talks in English. We never check what's under our seats in a multiplex as long as the movie has two item numbers. In fact we, as it appears, would rather be entertained than protected. </p><p>It's through this apathy towards the world that we provide wrong elements the motivation, means and support needed to perform an attack on the parliament, on hotels, in trains and ... on our conscience. The greatest strength of our country is not our military capability or our economic robustness. The greatest strength are We - The People. And if we need to ensure a better tomorrow, or rather a tomorrow at all for our coming generations, it is we, as a nation that has to wake up. The government and the forces, even if they try and do the best they can, will not be able to do anything unless the citizen of this country is awake and vigilant. And, on the other hand, if every citizen of this country, in his or her limited capacity, does his bit to ensure that his surroundings are safe, I don't see how an attack as audacious as 26/11 can ever be repeated on Indian soil. It's about time that we stopped expecting others to solve issues that we can look after better ourselves. </p><p>Let's all take a pledge today. Let's pledge that we will encourage only the right and deserving candidates to occupy offices of power. Let's pledge that we will ensure that proper security checks are conducted at places which can be attacked. Let's pledge that we will keep our eyes and ears open at all times. Let's pledge to come forward and contribute physically, mentally and financially to keep our country safe. </p><p>Remember, an attack on Indian soil, is an attack on your home.</p>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-79427184446235883782009-10-20T13:23:00.001-07:002009-10-20T13:24:05.182-07:00boond..yun hi nikal gaya wo,<br />anmana sa, jaise koi ummeed abhi tooti ho..<br />sir jhuka tha zara sa, shayad ashq chhupaane ke liye,<br />bahut der wo meri palkon pe ruka tha,<br />maine hi roka hua tha zabardasti, wo to kabse zid kar raha tha..<br />phir palkon se nikal ke, hothon ke raaste,<br />mere haathon ki lakeeron se hota hua...mera maazi bhiga gaya.<br />ya shayad wo khud hi ek aansoo ki boond tha.piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-3301570645428634372009-10-20T13:20:00.001-07:002009-10-20T13:21:47.646-07:00The Eternal Search<div id="msgcns!13AEFA822F8BE7A0!138" class="bvMsg"><p>Of late I've been observing people in love. People who claim to be in love, people falling out of love, people who grew to love each other, people who were in love earlier, but not anymore etc. And I've been thinking. I've been thinking what is it? what is it that makes us fall in love and experience the whole gamut of emotions that we feel? what is it that makes us go through all the longing and joy and pain of finding, having or losing someone? is it the desire to be appreciated for what we are? or is it the desire to live the moments which we, so many times live in our minds but seldom in real life? or it is plain inherent animal instinct of finding a mate, a companion, and in the larger context, of securing ourselves by building a group of similar individuals?</p> <p>I think it's different things for different people. In fact, the definition of love varies across age groups, cultures, societies, and individual experiences. Asking a young college goer about love, you're more likely to get a response laced with romanticism as compared to a middle aged couple who have known each other through the years and have grown to love each other despite, or probably because of their individual idiosyncrasies. When we fall in love, depending upon which demographic bracket we fall into, we look for different things in our partner. when we are younger, we look for good looking partners as sexual activity is very much on our minds. Good looks, on a psychological level, send signals of physical well being and fertility to our minds which are very essential for sexual gratification and reproduction. as we grow older, we start looking for things like emotional security, like-mindedness and financial support. But in a typical Indian society, where monogamy is essentially a way of life, how do people find all these qualities in the same person at different stages of life? To elaborate a little on this, how is it that we find sexual pleasure when we are young, emotional and financial security when we are in the middle age and mutual respect when we grow old, all in the same man or woman? does this mean that all of us have all these qualities in us and show them as and when required? Or does it mean that the concept of a happy, contented monogamous couple is a facade? </p> <p>i think that the answer lies somewhere in between the two extremes. though there are all the qualities of being a good partner in all of us, we need to accept the fact that nobody is perfect and work towards being a better person in order to sustain a relationship. if we take the partner for granted, as it is likely to happen in case of Indian couples where there is virtually no way out of a marriage (unless there is a criminal angle), the spark dies down. you start getting used to the presence of a person in your life and grow affectionate towards him or her probably in the same way you'd love a piece of old furniture or clothing. of course you have moments in your memory that you will cherish, but you still feel that there is a gap somewhere. </p> <p>That indirectly also brings us to the whole business of finding the right partner. In the current Indian scenario, though there's a huge shift in the thinking of people towards all things, marriages still remain an arranged deal for most of us. due to various factors influencing the selection of a partner by an individual, going strictly by personal choice is virtually impossible. there are too many people hurt, too many plans shattered and too many adjustments to be made if you try to break away from the norm. so is it best to just wait for things to happen? or rather, just wait for the right 'deal' to come along? my answer would be - no matter what happens in future, your present is all yours. If you venture outside, you might fall badly but if you stay inside, you may never know all the horizons waiting to be explored. so decide what you want to do with today, and do it. because in life, i have learnt through experience, it's not the things that we did that hurt, its the things that we wish we could have done, but didn't.</p></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7985100950115254296.post-8695002378915797442009-10-20T13:19:00.000-07:002009-10-20T13:20:48.076-07:00Awards and Appreciations<div style="font-family: georgia;" id="msgcns!13AEFA822F8BE7A0!117" class="bvMsg"><p><span style="font-size:85%;">watching the star screen awards last night was one big disappointment. almost none of my favorites - johnny gaddar for editing and screenplay, imtiaz ali for best debutante director, neil nitin mukesh for most promising newcomer made it to the stage. the only solace that i could derive was rishi kapoor acknowledging neil's talent while collecting the award for Ranbir Kapoor, the so-called most promising newcomer. next on my hit list are the music people. Tum se hi from Jab We Met didn't even feature in the nominees!! i mean c'mon! here was a song which had everything- great voice, great composition and lovely oroginal lyrics and we have Prasoon Joshi's Maa in he category. Maa was a nice song but it more than just reminded one of his earlier Luka-chhupi from Rang De Basanti.</span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;">So what an unsatisfied bollywood worshipper like me can derive from this is that though every TV channel worth it's salt claims to honor and promote good cinema, when it comes to actually doing that, they prefer to rather appease the gods and kings of bollywood. it's frustrating the way some "superstars" bag the nominations and eventually the awards. so now what i'm gonna do is to wait for the award functions to get over. i'll publish my own list of the best of '07 that bollywood had to offer. until then, let 'em guzzle and gorge!</span></p></div>piyushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17585342258586165841noreply@blogger.com0