Djinn

curio shop

                                                           

Hasmat

It was time to check out of the hotel, my nephew Monish came and reminded about our next destination to Fatehpur Sikri. I was sitting with the jewel box in hand with the lid open. Inside of the cover there is a mirror which was reflecting my sleepless face. I looked up to him and gave a blank stare.

“What happened you look devastated as though you have not slept last night? What is that box?” He looked at me and then at my wife who was getting ready to go out.

“It is a strange story and lost a valuable asset which was in this box.” I said absentmindedly clutching the pearl.

He got interested and pulled the chair and sat in front of me. I was sitting on the bed with legs dangling.

Here is what I told him.

“Do you remember the guide Hasmat at Tajmahal whom our guide introduced?”

“Yes that old fellow who said that he is the oldest guide of Taj, I have heard you discussing about Djinns with him.” Monish said.

Yes, he said he has seen Djinns. He further told me as we are born from earth Djinns are born from fire. Djinns live in a parallel world to ours. They are also born and die like us but are not visible in our dimension of world but they do exist around us. They are active at night and mostly hang around the old ruins. He informed there are bad Djinns and good Djinns. During the discussion I asked about the genie in Aladdin’s lamp. He informed me that an evil Emir had punished that Djinn by putting him in that lamp. I wanted to know more about Djinns from him. He asked me to come in the evening near the gate of Taj.

I was curious so after we all returned to the hotel I left for Tajmahal, the sun had set and it was getting dark.

“Oh,I came in search of you in the evening and auntie said you had gone out for some errand, she had no clue about your nocturnal adventure.” Monish said sarcastically.

I smiled at him and continued with my narration.

Hasmat was waiting for me near the curio shop. I had walked down the last one kilometer to Taj where only non-polluting mode of conveyance is allowed. He took me to a room inside the curio shop. It was kind of office of Mustaq, the owner of the shop. Mustaq left us alone. Hasmat asked whether I am interested to go inside Taj to see Djinn.

“How can you arrange to go in? It is closed now.”

“Leave that to me, there are many secret entry points of Moghul time which are not properly guarded. The main entrance point is only guarded.”

“How long will it take to sight Djinn?”

“Depends on them, they have seen me loitering but as you are a new person so they have to make sure that you are not up to some mischief. They may not appear, it is a chance you have to take.”

As such before coming I have Googled about Djinns .I gathered from Google there are some bad Djinns too, but the curiosity of learning more has pulled me to Hasmat. I was not in a mood to do experiment with unknown in a desolate place.

Hasmat watched me hesitating; he got up and went out. He brought this box which I was holding in my hand in the hotel.

Hasmat said, “ This box contains a Djinn, not a dangerous one”. He opened the box there was a small pearl like thing, he pointed to the pearl and said the Djinn is there. He asked me to hold the pearl in hand and look at the mirror which was embedded inside the lid.

I was excited like a school boy, I took the box , picked up the pearl and looked at the mirror. First it was hazy then a face appeared , the face was of a school boy and that was me when I was 13 or 14.I looked up at Hasmat with awe , he smiled and said, “ whatever you are seeing can be seen by you only, it reflects your mental age at that moment.”

I started wondering how that was possible and tried to recall if anything like this had happened to me. Again I looked at the mirror and saw my face of the age of 24 or so when I had met a mystery man in Gauhati during start of my career in Indian Oil refineries. That time a sadhu in Kamakhya temple had touched my forehead and transported me to a dream world. I was ecstatic with that box and asked Hasmat to give that to me at any cost. I was surprised that he did not bargain and gave the box free with a caution not to keep the box open for more than 5 minutes otherwise the Djinn would escape.

I came back before dinner time and had dinner with you all.

‘Yes I remember you were in a kind of hurry to finish the dinner.” Monish said.

My wife said, “ I did not know all these about Djinns but I have seen him getting up a number of times in the night and doing something with that box and a pen torch.”

“ I was so curious that in the night I would get up check which face the mirror would show. Mostly it was showing my this face but sometimes it was showing a much older wrinkled face of mine. I was exhausted by the long walk of Tajmahal and the second time walk in the night. Eventually I fell asleep and forgot to close the lid of the box.I had kept the box by the side of my pillow. In the morning I got up , held this pearl and looked at the mirror, I saw my this face. Then I noticed there is a micro hole in this pearl, I guess the Djinn has escaped by that. I heard some kind of rattling sound in the night but did not bother.”

“ Jethu, I don’t believe in your this story and as usual you made up this yarn, now get ready , we have to check out.” Monish got up with a huff.

It is very difficult to convince someone about my seeing me in that mirror at my different age depending upon my mental frame then. But I did see and know from various articles that Djinns create illusion in the mind and whatever I was seeing in the mirror was nothing but playback of my memory which is cached in the subconscious. It is a kind of hallucination, what people achieve by consuming drugs like marijuana, cocaine etc. Next time when I come to Taj will search for Hasmat , I am writing this article for the benefit of readers to experiment with Djinn when they are in Agra.

Twitter, the new force

Twitter , the new force

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The other day i watched the movie Chef where the lead character played by Jon Fabreau's career of Chef got ruined by adverse comment written by a food critic in Twitter......later on with the help of his 10 years old son he gets his Twitter handle and watches how his son starts putting him in the virtual world when he starts operating a food truck....because of his son's posting he becomes a hit and people starts crowding wherever his truck goes....

I had first hand experience of the power of Twitter. Last year i had gone to Taki with my family and relatives. As usual i was taking pictures and videos by my mobile camera. Many of my apps with auto uploading were on...like Flickr,Google photo etc. After about 10 hours or so my data service stopped and next day my mobile service stopped....i received a message from Vodafone informing me that my bill has run up to 45,000 as i was on international roaming whereas i had spent 20 hours or so in Taki which is in Bengal....then i realised that as Taki is in Bangladesh border so Vodafone service of that country overlapped and so the international charge....when i rang up customer service then they asked me to pay half the amount that is 22,000 to resume services. I wrote to appellate and got the same reply of paying up the amount...then me and my friend Raja Mitra started Twitter war quoting the correspondences and the technical fallacy of virtual border of the service provider...my son Anish Roy and my nephews Monish Roy Sumit Roy Aviraj Chatterjee etc joined in and retweeted to Vodafone.... within a day i started getting ring from the service provider, they resumed my services next day and the whole thing they settled at 5,000 ....this is a major battle i fought...there are some minor ones with Samsung,BSNL etc too i used Twitter to resolve....

So friends this is the new force to ruin a man or a company if negative things starts trawling...disgruntled employees, vendors, customers etc are more and more taking to twitter to hit......it is good to have more virtual friends to back you up in case of such need........now GOI has Twitter handle for all ministries and PSUs so higher officers of PSUs have become vulnerable to these complaints...i have used for complaining against BSNL to the CMD and the minister...I was to write this piece long back but did not, certain happening with BHEL  recently compelled me to share my experience of Twitter and it's impact......

The survival kit

The survival kit

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The life is not that smooth as we wish it to be. The ups and downs are inevitable and one has to be mentally prepared that the good phase is not going to continue for ever. Well, it is easier said than done as any period of routine thaws our brain to a state of rest, we tend to become complacent and forget the realities of life.

The survival of the fittest is the ageless law of the nature but the fittest are rarely the strong. The fittest are those endowed with the qualifications for adoption, the ability to accept the inevitable and conform to the unavoidable to harmonize with or changing conditions.

A Maori saying states, “a little storm and then rainbow appears.”

It means that worry over small difficulties is often found to be needless when a successful outcome follows.

While listing down the tools for survival I have used my experience or the experiences shared by others. Also the tools given below are not put in any set order as the adverse situation does not come in an orderly fashion.

Core Competence

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In today’s world where professionalism is becoming the buzzword there one must identify ones USP (unique selling proposition). What is that unique skill you have developed or in other words what is that skill or knowledge in which you are proficient. If you have not yet thought on that it is better that you take help of your friends to identify your strength. For example you may be good in public relation, may be you are good in writing précis and so on and so forth. In your hard time like suddenly the establishment retrenched you then your core skill will take you through in your hunt for a job.

Networking

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I personally give maximum weightage to this skill. You must keep on making friends and be in touch with them in regular basis. If you are introvert then you have to muster this skill of making friends. When you are in a difficult situation then this network of friends acts as the lifeline. You can use this network for gathering information which otherwise you are not able to get within the confine of your work place. If you are out of job then again this network comes to your rescue.

Favor banking

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You must be wondering about this bank. It is nothing to do with money. The moment you mention money then this bank vanishes. Whenever any one does anything for some one then he expects immediate return in terms of money or any kind of gift. The operative principle of this bank is keep doing good to others even without their requesting you and don’t expect any return from them. Then you will find that when you are in trouble then from some unknown place you are getting help. If you enquire about this help then you will discover that it is some one whom you helped long back is returning your help. It works like magic. This particular tool I am listing from my own experience.

Positive mindset

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The moment any adverse thing happen to any one then he starts blaming others and goes pitying himself. Very often such people loose heart and become depressed. They start visualizing that now the situation is hopeless and he can not get out of the abyss. A man with a positive mindset takes the set back as a lesson and tries to learn from the failure. As George Bernard Shaw wrote, “When I was young I observed that nine out of ten things I did were failure; so I did ten times more work.

Take initiative

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I have noticed many people with rich learning and experience are not getting job after VRS or after getting laid off. They assumed that as because they were in some reputed organization so the other employers must be aware of him and will come to him with job. This is a very rare situation, if one would have been that good in profession then he would not have been the man forced to take VRS or got himself thrown out. One has to restart the journey like a fresher; he has to present himself to the market. The birds have to fly in search of food; they don’t sit on branches with their beaks wide open so that food will fall from the sky. The marketplace for job is just a click away. One has to put his resume in the internet.

Creative thinking

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There are number of instances when somebody has been thrown out of job but was not disheartened. With whatever little money he has saved started a business and prospered. Here he did a creative thinking. There are cases when you are not satisfied with your work then you resign and start your own business. If you have a new idea of business then money to start the business is not a problem at all. How Narayanmurthy with his four friends started Infosys twenty years back is a part of the legend now.

Multitasking

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Every company is clubbing work to reduce the cost of man power. You might have noticed that the person issuing the boarding pass to you is also checking your boarding pass at the gate. The same is not done by the employees of the government owned airlines. I have seen in foreign country, the driver of the long distance bus does the loading and unloading of the luggage and also issues ticket. In India also this is catching up so one should not mind in doing some add on job. The idea is that every job is important in the work chain.

Ready to move

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We often fall in this trap of searching job at the place of stay. This may not be possible always. One must be mentally prepared to leave the comfort zone where he has friends and relatives and move to a place which offers greater opportunity. It is a trade off one has to accept in life. The internet gives access to jobs available anywhere in the world so one has to widen his vision.

Computer savvy, internet

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This is the most necessary modern tool. One may not become expert to make programmes but one should be able to store data, retrieve, write, send e mail etc. In today’s knowledge ocean the skill to surf the internet is must. The internet is a virtual library; one has only to know how to scan the catalogues. One can find articles on any topic written by experts and freely available in the internet. It is lightly said the one can get enough know how to assemble an atom bomb from the internet.

Data warehousing

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It is a good practice to log the data of the work done. We Indians are very poor in maintaining records. You will find that in adverse condition these data so kept come very handy. We are in knowledge era and where the data operate the system, they are like gears of a wheel. You might have noticed that how every one is busy on their lap tops. They can not move an inch without the ubiquitous lap top.

Communication skill

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Now a days there are professionals available who coach people in acquiring this skill. One must be able to communicate clearly either verbally or in writing. It is said that more than 60% is communicated by body language only in verbal communication. We Indians are accused of talking more but not to the point. That is the reason why every one wants to own cell phone so that even if the friend is not present physically still he can contacted for any insignificant reason. The points are to be conveyed in a précis and organized manner. The summing up has to be definitive to show the conviction of the logic.

Developing new skills

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If one is talented as Hussein then one need not learn any other skill, but in reality it is not so. It is a good idea to acquire some additional skill for enhancement in career or survival. There are numerous self help books are available to guide you in proper direction of learning. It has been observed that by profession one might have chosen a field but he may have knack in some other field. I always advise people to cultivate his that talent. What he developed for profession is skill but what he has in born is the latent talent. That talent has to be nurtured and ultimately that may become his survival tool. Like many people indulge in cooking as a hobby but this can be developed to a full time business venture.

Be alert

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The changes taking place are infinitesimal. These are not noticeable, but by the time it becomes noticeable the change has already occurred. This is the age of smart operation and one has to do constant reality check. Even if someone is in a secured job but still he must find out his market value. If you don’t constantly check your market value then you will not know when you have become obsolete. A recent study has shown that in knowledge industry a man more that 45 years of age can not find a suitable job as the industry prefers younger people with fresh mind. Though there is many fold increase in salary but at the same time hazard like this also cropping up. One must be alert and keep all options open.

Learn

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Many industries are allowing sabbatical leave to its employees so that they can acquire fresh knowledge. The other name of learning is life. As the life goes on similarly learning has to continue. There is no age bar for learning and one can learn from any one. The continuous learning keeps the mind busy and keeps away from the disease like Alzheimer. Look at Khuswant Singh, the writer and journalist who even at an age of more than 95 is alert like a school boy.

Safety net

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This is also known as nest of egg for the future. This is the age of consumerism. The banks are ready to give loan in easy terms. It is a big trap. Today we see practically every one we know has taken some loan or other. So now he has to keep working to pay back the loans. EMI is the buzzword. This amounts to every one working for the banks. It is a honey trap. We are following Charbak’s philosophy of “Rinang kritya Gheeritang pibate” Have Ghee by taking loan, live for today as tomorrow is not there. But if there is a recession or because of any other reason some such person loose his job then how is going to manage his finances? So one must save simultaneously for that rainy day. He has to cut his coat as per the length of his cloth. The paper is full of stories about suicides as they were not able to payback the loans.

I have enumerated the soft skills required for survival under adverse condition. The persons with skills like fitter, welder, electrician, plumber, carpenter etc are much sought after skill set in today’s booming real estate market. Even the foreign countries are issuing visa readily for these types of experts. They have to only keep themselves physically fit for the hard manual work. 

Tell me your dream

Tell me your dream

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I got down from the taxi near the Bandra band stand once again like I had been doing for the last one week. I started walking up the street past Sahrukh Khans house. I walked for about ten minutes and then turned right to begin the search for Dr.Rehmani.I went to the first high rise apartment complex next to the petrol pump. The security guard did not stop me, I wondered why? May be I don’t look like one to break in the houses or I was looking very old to carry out any nefarious activity. I gave a broad smile to the security guy for his generosity which is very hard to come by now a days. He nodded in response. I crossed the lawn and reached the lobby of the multi storey and looked at the letterboxes. I could not locate the name of Dr.Rehmani, so I trudged back out of the security gate, it was December so the sun at eleven o’clock was not harsh. The length of my shadow has shortened; I looked down at the shadow and thanked it to be still there, I have lost all hopes of regaining my self. So I and my shadow started our search for Dr.Rehmani once again and to no avail.I had to find him, so I continued my search at Bandra for Dr.Rehmani.

 The above is the narration of the oldish looking guy sitting in front of me at Copper Chimney where I had gone for lunch. It was chance meeting with Champak Kumar on that day.

It happened like this, after my retirement from BHEL,Bhopal in 2003 i had joined a firm in Kolkata. In 2004 sometime in December I had landed in Bombay in connection with a consultancy work. I was booked at Wankhade stadium guest house by my friend Jamgade.I did not like the ambience of the restaurant there in the stadium so I took a cab and came to Copper Chimney for my lunch. I had ordered my lunch, was smoking and waiting  to be served, suddenly I found this handsome old guy in tweed coat and corduroy pant appearing in front of me and asking for  match box. He appeared to be a nice and kind guy, surprisingly he appeared young from some angle, his stance was youngish but he looked old, I obliged him. He went back to his place in the corner of the restaurant, my lunch course was served. I hurriedly finished my lunch as my meeting with the client was scheduled for three in the afternoon. After paying my bill I got up and went towards the door, I heard a voice behind me; I turned around and found that old guy was waving at me. I went near his table.

“Do you have some time to spare?” He enquired.

“Sorry, I am in a hurry for a meeting.”

“Do you come often here?”

“No, no I have arrived here today and will be staying in Bombay for the next four days,” I informed him.

“Can we meet here tomorrow; I want some time of yours.”

I had work in the late evening next day, but it was a strange request from a stranger. But this is not the first time when strangers had confronted me and unloaded their worries on me. I don’t know why I am picked up, may be I have a very ordinary common man  face which remind them of their some close relatives or friends. Any way I too did not have much work next morning and scented a good story, agreed to meet him at Copper Chimney at one o clock next day.

Next day I got down from the taxi in front of the restaurant and found that old gentleman sitting at a table of four. He was wearing this turtle neck grey sweater and black chinos pant and was looking like an out of work hero. He was about five feet eleven and a slim body. He got up and invited me to the chair opposite to him. I shook hand with him and sat down.

“You are surprised why I chose you? You see you look like one of my cousins whom I adore. I was feeling lonely, so I requested you for this meeting.”

“Oh, that's alright, I too don’t have much to do today. Let us order some drink.”

“The drinks and the lunch are on me, that is my payment to you for your time,” he smilingly told .

We ordered scotch and he started his narration. In between he was continuously receiving calls on his cell phone. He was either asking them to sell or purchase, it was the time when sensex was trying to breech 10,000 marks.I am Champak Kumar; you might have heard my name. His name struck a chord in my memory, was he the hero of the film “Khooni Khanjar’.He acted in one movie in late eighties, it was a super hit but after that no one heard any thing about him. He just kind of vanished, there were rumour that he had hot affair going with the heroin of the film.

“I am not sure, are you the hero Champak Kumar.”

“Thank god you have heard my name; you look to be of a generation before me.” This remark of his surprised me as he looked to be more than sixty and that is more or less of my age.

“What happened to you, why you did not act in any other movie?”

He sipped his scotch and ran his fingers through his hair. I noticed him doing this very frequently. I looked at his hair and wondered whether he was wearing a wig or not but I could see his parting hairline, it was natural hair but dyed.

He philosophically looked at his scotch glass and said,"Let me start from the beginning then you will know my problem."

This is what he told me:
I am a graduate from Barkatulla University; Bhopal. My original name is Dharmesh Chandra Agarwal.I used to take part in college plays and because of my good look I was always chosen to play the role of hero. After my graduation I decided to try my luck in Bombay so I boarded a train for Bombay. It was just after Bhopal gas tragedy. We escaped the gas as we were staying near the BHEL Township. I was in the AC chair car; the passenger next to me was a girl who was traveling from Delhi to Bombay. Because of good looks the girls automatically get attracted to me, so this girl was no exception. She looked to be lonely and I lent my ear to her. I did not give out much about myself. She had gone to Delhi to attend an art seminar. She was a budding artist from JJ school of art; she was neither beautiful nor smart. She informed me that she had no true friend. She looked to be rich and as I had no place to stay in Bombay so I started flirting with her. During the course of our discussion I came to know that she was the daughter of a psychiatrist. Her father was having many film artists among his clientele. I thanked my lucky star for this break. So I doubled my charm, blasted it to her with full intensity and by the time we reached Bombay she was eating from my hand, she started begging me to stay with her family. It seemed her mother had died and she was the only daughter. I did not say yes readily, I pretended as though I had many friends where i can chose to stay. She took the bait and started pleading and I agreed, remember I am an actor so these things come naturally to me.
We got down at Bombay Central, there was a car waiting for her outside. She took me to her house at Vila Parle. It was an old fashioned house with tall columns and the works. Her father was waiting for her at the porch, an old fellow in gown with clipped moustache, medium height,  high powered specs .Oh by the way the name of the girl was Percy and they were Anglo Indian.Dr.Brown was a jovial guy and I took immediate liking to him. He did not mind giving me shelter in his house as long as it pleased her daughter. I was allotted the guest room in the ground floor. It was a two storied gothic structure; airy .I would not go to much detail about how the doctor took a shine on me. Mr.Sippy, the producer is one of his client. He introduced me to him.Mr.Sippy gave me chance in his film Sholay, it was a bit role as one of the constables with Asrani.While shooting for the movie, I came in contact with the heroin Anita and she recommended me for hero role in “Khuni Khanjar”.I found out that Percy was using me as a hat rack for parking her self esteem, she was not much for romance or sex,she lived in her own world of art. So there I was a part time lover to Percy and a full time hero with Anita. There was lot of rumour about me and Anita, nothing really happened between us. It was one of those pre release hypes they built up through PR.
I was not happy with the film line, it was plastic world very artificial so I wanted to quit. I wanted to continue a free life with lots of money. I used to share my thoughts with Dr.Brown; he was sympathetic to my views.One day he introduced me to a doctor whom he came to know the previous day in a conference. The doctor was introduced to me as Dr.R.He was a weird looking guy, like a character from Harry Porter. He attracted me like a magnet. I started visiting his hotel room. He was thinking of settling down in Bombay along the Arabian sea. He was interested in Bandra.I shared my wish of early retirement, and my dream of spending a leisure life of playing golf and visiting places. Somehow without my knowledge he started influencing my dreams. I started dreaming as though I was like Manu Chabaria who has built his empire with 10,000 rupees so I was also capable of doing that.I was having a few lakhs earned from the film. I slowly started thinking about stocks and real estate.My thinking process was changing,a new me was emerging who was focussed towards money. I purchased land in Greater Bombay which was yet to develop to the present magnitude; similarly I invested in tech shares where no one was investing then. Whatever i touched fetched money as though i had Midas touch. I knew that metamorphosis of mine was due to Dr.R so I helped him to purchase the land which he wanted.
Suddenly one day while brushing my teeth in the morning I noticed that I was getting wrinkles around my neck, on closer look found out extra strands of white hair among my black hair. I was very particular about my good look so I started worrying and the worry caused my physical aging faster. I had not met Dr.R for a year or so but came to know that he has moved out of the hotel to his newly built house on the land which i helped him to purchase. I visited him, found that he was no longer looking weird but instead he was looking younger. I requested him to do something about my aging .He asked me to come next day. Accordingly i went and he asked me to lie down on the reclining couch  I was hypnotized by him , when I came back to my senses then I found myself in my flat at Lokhandwala with all my memory and the location of Dr.R’s house totally wiped out from my mind.
“How old are you now?” I asked curiously.

“I am just 45 years old but see I look as if I am seventy years old. He stole my years through my dreams.

”“How”

“During the process of my investment I was getting this dream regularly where there was an old guy in a castle in the clouds. He would ask me to give my youth to him and he would make me rich beyond my imagination. You know I was so possessed that I agreed.”

“You mean to say that Dr.R was that old guy in your dream.”

“Yes, now when I sit back and think then all the pieces start falling in places.”

“What about Dr.Brown,cant he help you to track down the devil.”

“The father and daughter moved to Australia and heard that Doctor died.”

“So now every day I go out to Bandra and search doctors whose surname starts with R.For the last one week it is Rehmani.”

“The appearance of that devil might have changed, how would you recognize him?”

“I can identify him by his gait, eyes, mannerism etc.” he said desperately.

I felt sorry for the old guy, sorry I mean for the young fellow. His youth was stolen by a wicked doctor. I don’t know how this could be possible. I was wondering whether the body in front of me in the form of Champak Kumar was actually Dr.R and Dr.R is using his body which is forty five years old now. It means he switched the souls; it was real scary. May be the guy in front of me made up a story and took my time to narrate that and see my reaction. I was utterly confused. These types of things happen in story books not in real life. Though there are people who claim that we could not explore all the dimensions, like say time dimension. This is to do with time.

“I told you my story because in case you come across some one who can give back my lost years then I would pay handsomely. Why don’t you come with me to my house?” He gave his visiting card to me, I did not give mine.

“Sorry, I can’t as I have some urgent business.”

“Will you come tomorrow?

’“If I am free then I would come, good bye.”

With his permission i took his snap with my mobile phone and left him.I was in no mood to continue my association with him, I was too scared,started getting goose pimples thinking about his talk.I started searching for an internet café, got one after walking a few hundred meters. I got hold of a computer and surfed for  Hindi film “Khuni Khanjar “, found some images from that film.Yes,that guy whom I met in Copper Chimney was really Champak Kumar. He should be around 40 but to me he appeared to be older. Was he telling truth? May be due to some illness he was looking old and made up a filmy story.

 I was puzzled by that chance meeting with Champak Kumar and his strange story. When i told this story to some of my friends in the club they did not believe it so thought of sharing with you all.

RIO Olympic 2016..my take

RIO...my take
Mrinal Kar was the 100 meter dash champion in 1960 of IIT,Kharagpur when I joined the institute... Mrinal Kar was resident of Patel Hall where I was alloted accommodation...one day Mrinal spotted an African boy C B Simpson in the hostel...he confronted him in dinning  hall and asked him has he ever taken part in Athletics..an emphatic No was the reply...Mrinal Kar who was in prefinal year then encouraged this 2nd year African student Simpson to come to the track...well that was the introduction of an athletic power house to our hostel team..he started winning all 100,200,400 plus long jump not only in inter hostel but also in inter IIT sports meet...those days he used to clock 11. something secs  in 100 m...here is this boy never took part in competitive athletics at the age of 19 or so started and dominated IIT sports scene for next 4 years... it's all in the genes of the people of that continent...watching Usin Bolt winning the 7th heat so easily showed the effortless easy way doing a job in World arena ...
It is great that our sportsperson have met the minimum criteria for taking part in RIO Olympic but then competing with those natural sporting persons from all those highly physical country is another matter... those countries keep on producing sportsperson like a factory....as usual China has caught on and streamlined the production house like all other engineering products from that country.....
Our case is story of one off like a Dipa Karmakar here or rich person Abhinav Bindra doing his bit...yes we rightly focussed on archery,rifle shooting,wrestling which has traditional base... let's see if tennis and badminton players can do anything ,till then let us enjoy watching the excellence in sports after all those people winning gold are the best unlike say in India where people manipulate the system..good that Goel fellow has been recalled back,enough of Tom foolery ...

Blue Gold

Blue gold

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It was late in the evening when we approached  the last rice mill for rice husk survey. The mill owner Mr.Mandal enthusiastically showed us around the rice mill where boiled rice is produced. He invited us for tea in his house adjacent to the mill. I noticed a ruin of two storied brick shed with wild growth around.

“What is that shed?” I inquired.

“That’s Neel Kuthi, our ancestors were Indigo planters.”

“Oh I see, that is the warehouse where the Indigo cakes were stored.” I said.

After finishing tea we came out and got into our car for returning to Bolepur. I was curious to know more about Indigo farming but realized Mr.Mandal being the zamindar whose ancestors would have been ruthlessly exploited the poor farmers so would not give the real picture. Our car had hardly moved a few 100 meters when a young man in shabby cloth waved at us for stopping the car. The driver stopped the car, the young man came at the rear and requested for a lift to the next village. It was dark so I took pity; the driver invited him to sit in the front. After a few kilometers he asked us to stop, the village was very near to Ajay River.

In the meanwhile he told us his name was Joy Biswas and he was returning home from the rice mill, he was an operator there. I got interested in him and asked, “Do you belong to a farming family?”

“Yes, my father is a farmer, we grow rice.” After travelling for about 20 minutes Joy signaled, “ Please stop here my house has come. Why don’t you come in and meet my father.” He politely invited us.

It was a typical thatched roof house with a clean courtyard in the front. We could see cow shed with a few cows and a chicken coop. The house was having electrical connection. His father came out hearing the sound of our car stopping; with folded palm he led us to the front room. It had two cane chairs and a wooden cot. We took the cane chairs, Joy went inside to arrange tea. His father who was more or less of my age sat on the cot and inquired the reason of our visit. I explained him how we were surveying the availability of rice husk in Burdwan and our subsequent visit to Mandal’s rice mill, where we met his son.

My curiosity was about Indigo farming so I eagerly asked senior Biswas, “Other than rice what other crops your forefathers grew, let us say a century back.”

“I heard from my father that my great grandfather was growing Indigo plants, it will be around 1840 or so. The Mandal family was the zamindar and he was representing an East Indian Company to collect the produce from here.”

“Yes I have seen the Neel Kuthi of Mandal’s. From the books I understand the farmers were not very eager to plant Indigo as that would mean not planting paddy.” I said.

“Yes we were forced to plant Indigo in major part of our land. As you know our lands are very fertile, being very near to the river , found to be suitable for Indigo farming by British. Those white men with their Indian accomplish like Mandal would force all the farmers to plant that wretched herb. They would give us dadan( sort of advance against a contract) and we will purchase seed with that money.”

“Yes I read in Nil Darpan, the play by Dinabandhu Mitra, how the families were tortured to grow Indigo. The process of fermenting the leaves in vats, straining after fermentation and finally the sludge will be dried to form cakes as end product. The process of fermenting has to be completed before sun rise. It was a back breaking labour but farmers got hardly 2.5 % value of the market price.” I shared my bookish knowledge.

“Yes babu it was shear torture and so our ancestors revolted.”

“Yes I know, the Indigo revolt in1858 to 1860 against the British. By the way are you any chance related with Bishnucharan Biswas of Nadia who was one of the leaders of the revolution?”

“No babu but my great great grandfather gave shelter to a revolutionary who finally killed the Mandal, zamindar of that time, of the same family whom you visited.” He informed.

In the meanwhile his son had brought tea and some biscuits. We enjoyed their hospitality but my curiosity was not quenched, I wanted to see a plant.

“ Is there any Indigo plant around?”

“Yes, as a reminder we have a few of those in the corner of our field, but in the darkness of night I can’t take you there. Why don’t you come tomorrow morning?”

“Ok,we will come tomorrow.”

Taking leave from them we got into our car and drove off to Bolpur.

After finishing breakfast in Camelia hotel in Prantik we proceeded to our destination for project Indigo.

Senior Biswas was waiting for us,his son had left for his work in rice mill. We walked for about a kilometer deep in the village. We entered a paddy field, some palm trees were there by the side of a pond and a shrub. He took us near the shrub. The trees were two to four feet in height, green leafs, small pea like fruits. Biswas plucked a fruit and peeled it show small pods inside. He explained inside the pods are the seeds of the plant. They pluck the fruits for seeding of future plant and leafs are fermented to produce Indigo.

He explained,” The stench of the work vats, where the Indigoplants were putrefied, was so offensive that the processing area was kept more than a mile away from habitats. The odor from the rotting weeds drew flies and other insects.”

While he was explaining I was trying to imagine the toiling poor villagers in the field during those turbulent times. India was the major exporter of Indigo to Europe. East India Company had a monopoly on Indigo trade to the world. More than 80% produce was exported. In 1897 the export from Calcutta port peaked  over 9.5 million pounds.

We went back to his house. Then Biswas brought a letter which had yellowed by age was pasted on a parchment paper. It was a letter informing that one Subinoy was happy by the treatment he got from Biswas family so he was leaving behind a handi full of some precious substance known as Blue Gold which was costlier than gold. He has buried it in the courtyard. After reading the letter I looked up at him and asked, “Could you find it?”

“No, I could not.”

I smiled at him and said, “Keep trying to find out. The vessel may fetch money but the content will be of no use to you now.”

“Why, he wrote it is costlier than gold.”

“Yes it was costlier than gold when he wrote this letter. The vessel contains Indigo which was costlier than gold in 1850s or so. That is the reason it was called Blue gold then.” I informed him with a twinkle in my eyes.

I could see he was upset by my observation.

We thanked Biswas and drove back. On the way back I was thinking though British government had banned Indigo cultivation by 1860 because of the peasant revolution and the graphic presentation of the plight of farmers in the play Nil Darpan which was translated in English and was presented to British parliament but still there were farming in Champaran,Bihar.As a matter of fact Mahatma Gandhi started his first Satyagrah from Champaran, Bihar and Kheda, Gujarat in 1917 against Indigo farming.

Somehow I like visiting places connected with history but never imagined an obscure village of Bengal would ignite my interest so much.

   

Cows don't vote but Dalits do

Cows don't vote but Dalits do
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Sometimes one wonders whether BJP does not know this truth about vote bank but then one starts pondering whether there is some other game plan hatched by intelligentia. Let us firs admit Congress and Left has more intellectuals who can create khurafati in their stable than NDA and then look through the prism of dalit.
NDA came to power riding on the vote share of Dalit and other backward classes and certainly not the upper caste. The upper castes consider themselves as intellectual and secular so their vote share is fragmented. Looking at this some backroom boys of so called secular parties hatched this plan.
This Dalit thing started with Rohit Vermulla suicide and as the UP election is fast approaching so it is getting drummed up by ever obliging liberal press and channels. There is most urgent issue of floods in Assam,Bihar and Odisha but there is hardly any ground zero report. For the last 2 days i was surfing channels to get some real time feed on floods . All the channels were busy analysing either the issue of stone pelting in Srinagar and the ban imposed by small boys on the girls riding scooter in Kashmir or some cow related mob justice. Today i read in the paper that the new kid in the block Kanahiya is planning to launch all India movement on Rohit Vermulla so once again TV camera, discussion Azadi protest in Hyderabad,JNU,Jadavpur highlighting Dalit suppression etc will start.The well planned script is already written and if BJP is smart then they have to control the loose cannons in UP mainly as it does not matter much in rest of the state as of now. Hope Prashan Kishore is not scripting it, the other day Rahul found sitting wioth a grieved dalit woman in Gujrat but later on it came out that the woman was plant by the local congressmen and was not the real victims mother, so this game of inciting and advertising will go on till UP election.
Disclaimer; I am nether a cow rakhshakh or bhakhsakh.....i am just one of those who wears a different glass than what is offered by so called pseudo intellectuals. I am for free thinking , clean administration and livable neighbourhood.
This take is kind of take it or leave it.

Dancing with Bauls

Dancing with Bauls

The Bauls are in West Bengal…. in the extreme northeast of India for hundreds of years, perhaps a thousand. They wander the countryside, singing their religious songs. Their beliefs are a mixture of many influences and traditions, such as Hinduism, Sufism and Yoga. They break away from many common Indian beliefs, including the age-old caste system, and the separation of Hindu and Muslim communities.

Baul music is unlike other traditional Indian classical music. In fact, there is nothing quite like this music. There is no sitar or tabla - all of the instruments played are ancient in origin. The songs are simple, and sung with intense emotion. The music is approachable and very enjoyable to listen to. Unlike many forms of Indian classical music, no special knowledge or study is needed to fully understand.

When one goes to Shantiniketan from Kolkata by train one encounters Bauls.They make the journey pleasurable with their song and dance. They sing about contemporary events, modern trends in their own simple rural language.

Those days I was head of Eastern Region of BHEL and used to go by Shantiniketan Express to Bolepur for onward journey to the Bakreswar thermal project which was coming up under WBPDCL then. Once in two months there used to be a major review of the power project by the erstwhile Power minister Dr.Sankar Sen of West Bengal. All of those who were required for the meeting like us from BHEL, officials from WBPDCL, consulting engineers from DCL, Japanese engineers from Fuji, Japanese experts from the consortium leader ITOCHU and the representatives from the funding agency OECF used to travel together by Shantiniketan express AC chair car as that was the only AC compartment in that train. Practically the whole AC chair car compartment on that particular day used to be booked for the project review team.

During one such journey day, the representatives of various companies started trooping in Howrah station to board the Shantiniketan Express for the review meeting. I was there one hour before the departure of the train as that was my style of avoiding failure. We all boarded the train; Dr.Sen boarded the train five minutes before the departure. The train started on schedule, I had a corner seat. I started reading the daily news paper of the day. After about half an hour we were served hot samosa and fresh sweet by our friends from DCL.After about one and half hour or so the train reached Burdwan. Immediately the compartment was filled by various hawkers selling there wares, mostly food stuff. We were served coffee, courtesy DCL.The train started, Prabir of BHEL entered the compartment and searched me out.As usual the Baul singer Karthik Das boarded the train, he started strumming his one string country made guitar known as Ek Tara.

Dr.Sen was fond of Baul song, so every one made way for Karthik Das to go near Dr.Sen.He went near Dr.Sankar Sen.’s seat and started his Baul song. He started with a typical Baul song describing the land of Birbhum from where he hailed. We enjoyed the song. Then he started with a song which talked about Bakreswar power project, BHEL, WBPDCL, OECF and how once that project was made would bring prosperity to the region. The song practically covered all facets of Bakreswar. All were stunned by that song as that song was expressing the mission for which the whole corporate crowd was going to Bakreswar.Every one was nonplussed by that song. They wondered how a half literate country singer can gather such intimate detail information’s and package the same in his Baul song. He got an all round applause.

Dr.Sen called him and asked, “How did you frame this song? How could you get such a lot of details about Bakreswar project?”

Karthik Das ,Baul replied with folded palm,”Sir,we are poor illiterate people but we go round the markets and to various rural gatherings, collect details of the latest happenings and string those to a song. This song is result of such endeavor,” he continued, “sir, did you like the song?”

Dr.Sen replied with a satisfied smile,”Yes, I am very happy as our effort will be known to the common people through your song. I hope you will sing this every day.”

“Yes sir, I will sing this every day,” the Baul replied.

That was a lucky day for Karthik Das as all of us paid him generously.

Before leaving the compartment Karthik bowed at me and I acknowledged the same. He got down at Guskara, the station before Bolepur.The compartment was charged and every one was discussing about the song, they were happy that Bakreswar had become a part of the folk lore. It was an exulting feeling for all.

Prabir came silently to me and said,”Sir, I hope every thing happened to your satisfaction.”

“Yes, thanks for making the event happen. You were late in entering the compartment and my heart stopped beating for a moment but then you entered followed by the Baul and I was relieved.” I said.

Yes, the whole show was stage managed by me. I had advised Prabir to pen a song bringing out the important facts of Bakreswar in simple Bengali language and then put that in a proper Baul musical format. He did that, we caught hold of Karthik and motivated him to sing that song on that particular day for a tidy sum. A day before that Prabir left for Burdwan and got the song rehearsed by Karthik.

After that particular day Karthik knew that if he sang that song in front of us then he would collect more money, so he made it a point to sing that song whenever the corporate crowd for Bakreswar was visible.

All most all the business news papers of West Bengal went ga ga over that Baul song. It was hailed as a novel way of using the local folk singers to advertise the achievement. Some of the local MBA colleges picked up this phenomenon as case study for marketing strategy. Generally advertising agencies are engaged and media is used to highlight the products. Here the folk singers were already available and they were effectively utilized to carry the message to the masses. It is always a cost effective proposition if the existing infrastructure or human resource is gainfully utilized. The Bombay dabbawals move the tiffin carriers through local trains during non rush hours and thus they achieve their goal by utilizing the existing system.

Bakreswar team of BHEL got so much charged up by the success of the song in the train that they got another song written and sponsored Nemai Das Baul for that song. Eventually Nemai Das Baul was proved to be more loyal to BHEL and we adopted him as our very own Baul.Those days no BHEL official function was complete without a Baul song by Nemai Das.

Pacific Ocean,Gold Coast on 10th July 2016

https://goo.gl/photos/Zn2wn1ztgvUTpRHT8

Punctuality vs Service

Punctuality versus service
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How many times have you miss a bus ,train or plane by a whisker. Whom did you blame or cursed ? Yourself or the service provider? Yes more the services become punctual we have more disgruntled people. Imagine an office goer with his briefcase boards the bus on time but the mother with 2 children can't reach it on time, even if she reaches on time the suburban trains with automatic door closing will close as per the set duration.
So we have a satisfied office goer but also we have a harassed mother with 2 children might be rushing for an appointment with doctor. Lucky that some modern offices have started flexi timing,in some countries there are buses every 5 minutes to tackle such issues.
The time for our daily chores is an approximation and not on the dot time like countdown of a rocket in NASA, it is not that sacrosanct. But the pressure to be punctual remains and which affects health.
I remember once me and my wife were returning in the night at about 10.20 or so after attending a function in Dhakuria,Calcutta. We were returning to our place of stay in Ballygaunj Station Road and local train from Dhakuria was the convenient mode of transport. The last train from Dhakuria station was at 10.30 pm,we reached the station and headed for ticket window,the train had arrived and it stops for 20 secs. By the time we headed to catch the train it blew horn and started. The guard's compartment,the last bogey passed us. The guard looked at us helplessly standing ,he gestured at us showing the direction of the train moving, I nodded "Yes". To our surprise the train stopped for us at a distance and a few compartments were still reachable on the platform. We rushed and boarded the train,while running I mouthed "a thank you" to him.
I am sure with a minute or two delay the train made up it's time leaving a satisfied customer like us.
I am not sure whether with all those automation and stress on punctuality I can have a repeat experience.

International Yoga day and my birthday

International Yoga day and my birthday😁
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My friends must be wandering what's my birthday has to do with Yoga day ! It is like this when we were discussing about Yoga you know with whom then I informed him I am on Yoga since 1985 when in BHEL I went through this general management course of one month in hotel Qutub where we were trained in Yoga by a Tibetan Yoga guru. Since then I am doing Yoga every morning. Then he looked around his sevaks  did not find anyone matching my Yoga experience. He asked when is my birthday." 21st June" I said. "OK,then on that day we will have International Yoga day. Will discuss with Barak about it."

 Thus the Yoga day started and I deleted my birthday from FB,but some of my friends still remember that day and a big thanks to them. Well baba Ramdev was yet to start his Yoga back then in 1985.
There is one disclaimer about Yoga,it does not control your tummy.....the natural sag because with old age all those muscles holding it up can't match the gravity pull so the bulge...I have battled with this bulge but lost..again thanks to Him for celebrating my B'day as International Yoga day...keep smiling..here I am doing Yoga under  the watch full eyes of Akira, she taught me stretching..😁😁😁

A page from Mahabharat

A page from Mahabharat

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Yudhishthir put Daupadi on stake next after losing wealth in the crooked dice game with Duryadhan. He lost that round too. Durayadhana jumped up in joy and yelled like a jackal at the discomfiture of Draupadi. He nudged his brother Dushashan to get into the act of possessing Draupadi.

“Whatever you say bro, my pleasure!” twirling his moustache and slapping his thigh Dushashan jumped on Draupadi. Poor Draupadi was helpless;. Bheem was raging in anger and Arjuna wanted to break the rule but Dharmraj Yudhishthir restrained them.

Poor Pandavas were a mute spectator, she prayed to Krishna to save her humiliation in the hands of Kauravas. There was a guy among those Kauravas who had attended Draupadi’s Swamvar but failed in the test of hitting the eye of the rotating fish on wooden wheel by looking at the reflection in plate full of water below. He was jumping and shouting lustily at that vulgar show. Draupadi’s ultimate shame was saved by Lord Krishna by supplying endless saree.

The above incident of Mahabharat was the beginning of end of Kauravas, Draupadi would take oath that until and unless Dushashan is killed she would not tie her free flowing hair.

But what about that leering guy, who was jumping lustily?

Cut to 12 years of exile in forest or vanvas of Pandavas after losing everything in that ill-fated game of dice.

That guy has been shadowing Pandavas in the forest and waiting for the oppertune moment when Draupadi will be alone, he wanted her for fulfilling his carnal desire.

One day all five Pandavas had gone out in the forest to look for food and Draupadi was left alone in the hut.

This lecher  parks his chariot at a distance , stealthily comes to the hut and gives a polite knock on the door.

Draupadi opens the door and is surprised to see this guy.

He hurriedly explains, “I have come in search your husbands.”

Draupadi being a polite and civilized lady invites this relative inside the hut and wait for the return of her husbands.

I know knowing that fellow belongs to the enemy campy why did she allow him inside; I guess that’s what always the weakness of a good person is. A good person always looks through the prism of goodness. Also she had five brave husbands so there was nothing to worry.

But lust which is among 7 deadly sins is such blinding that a person loses his common sense. This crook was no better. He enters the hut and says, “A beautiful woman like you can’t stay like this, come with me I will keep you like a queen.” She steps back and says, “Please leave me alone, I am happy here.”

This guy gets enraged by the rejection, he grabs for Draupadi , she puts up a fight but was no match to that brute. He carries fighting and yelling Draupadi to his chariot and binds her with the post.  He whipped the horses wildly so that he could put distance between the hut and him. Draupadi keeps shouting for help but unfortunately her husbands were beyond the earshot.

After sometimes the five Pandavas returned from their errand and shouted for Draupadi. No one came running out. They went inside the hut and found it to be empty; the utensils were haphazardly strewn around because of Draupadi’s resitance. They knew something bad has happened and Draupadi was in danger. Arjuna came out of the hut and with his hunter eyes started looking for telltale signs. He noticed the mark of chariot wheel on the ground and found out in which direction it had gone. He aimed his Gandiv and released a fire arrow or Agnivan in that direction.

This villain had no clue of the danger but then suddenly he finds fire falling from sky , embeds itself in the ground in front of the horses. The scared horses neigh wildly and stop suddenly on hind legs with front legs up.

Arjuna goes on shooting fire arrow in regular intervals in such a way that the arrows create a prison of fire around the charioit.

Our villain is now imprisoned and there was no way of his escape.

Panch Pandavas arrive and unties Draupadi and then drags the brute out by his hair. They were shocked to see the culprit. It was Jayadratha, the husband of Dushala, the only daughter of Dhritarashtra or sister of 100 Kaurav brothers.

Arjuna wanted to kill him but then Draupadi pleaded and asked him not to do that as then Dushala who was their cousin sister would become a widow.

But Pandavas wanted to punish him. They shaved off his hair in such a way that five parallel strands were running on his skull. This way Jayadratha was shamed and he had no face to show.

Pandavas went back leaving Jayadratha behind to his fate.

Jayadratha was enraged by the insult and stayed put by the side of river Saryu. Dushala got worried seeing her husband absent for a long time. Duryadhana found him by the side of river and requested his brother in law to return. Jayadratha said ,” I can’t go now. Let me meditate for sometimes.”

Here is the catch in this type of incidence, any bad or good person if does a tapsaya to Bholenath Shiva then he readily gives var or a wish full filling request.

He did penance for days, months directing the mental energy towards Shiva. Bholenath is happy and appears in front of him and asks Jayadratha what he wants.

“I want to take revenge on Pandavas.”

Shiva smiles and gives him var, “You can defeat all 4 pandavas but not Arjuna.”

Jayadratha is not happy he continues his tapasya of Shiva again.

Now the question is whether Shiva will grant him another var or not. What is the second var Jayadratha would ask……he can’t ask var to defeat Arjuna as in the first var itself Shiva has spelled that out. Let me read Mahabharat for further information on Jayadratha to know the next var…..

Seagull

Seagull

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The verdant sea beach of Pacific Ocean at Gold Coast

Seagulls on the beach at Surfers Paradise, Gold Coast,Australia

The sea was looking blue, the sun was about to set. The seagulls were circling over the sea at a distance from the beach. The surfers were returning, the air was salty; a fishy smell was hanging in the atmosphere. The entire ambiance and the smell of the sea beach at Gold Coast transported me back to Gangavaram sea beach in Vizag

.It was rightly said by Dian Ackerman that nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer besides a lake in the mountain: another moonlit beach. Smell detonates softly in our memory like poignant land mine hidden under weedy mass of years. Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of undergrowth.

Me with Raja and Bonny at Gangavaram sea beach, the captive sea beach of Vizag steel plant

Yes that particular moment reminded me of a similar sunset time by the side of Bay of Bengal on Gangavaram beach, which is kind of captive sea beach of Vizag Steel plant. I was relaxing on the beach, looking at the endless waves hitting the shore line, my son with his friend Raja swimming in the sea, the ladies were busy at a distance. From the corner of my eyes I could see the temple perched on a hillock, the last scene of the film Ek Duje Ke Liye was shot there.

Bonny with Madhuri in Gangavarm Sea beach temple

 The whole atmosphere was serene and tranquil. From a distance it would appear as though I was talking with the sea. Yes, I was communicating with the sea, I wanted the time to freeze so that I could go on reminiscing about the past. The sea was communicating back to me that it was not possible as the time could not wait and reminded me that I had much work to do before I could think of freezing myself to no work mode. It said, " look at those seagulls, they are relentlessly hunting for fish, look at me I have no time for rest, I have to go on creating waves." Those words of sea jerked me back to the present, I quickly got up and gathered my clothes and shouted to others that it was time to go back home, the sun was about to set.

I started thinking about the project for which I was posted at Vizag.The nightmare of grappling with the pressing problem at the project started staring hard at me.

I was posted there in steel plant from BHEL to construct their power plant. The plant was ready but was not stable. Those recurring problem used to haunt me, those trips to Gangavaram or Ramakrishna beach was to escape from the reality and look at the sea for a mental peace. I still remember my first rendezvous with the sea. It happened in 1963 when I with few of my friends from IIT, Kharagpur straightaway paddled our cycles to the sea before checking in any hotel. We were staggered; the endless water produced a numbing effect. It was beyond our imagination, in our own way we always imagine things in a limited way. Before that day the only unlimited thing with which we were familiar was the sky, since the sky we are seeing from our very birth so it does not create that kind of effect of the unseen. We felt very small and vulnerable on that day.

Whenever I was having any mental trouble I would go to the beach, look at the sea. The vastness of the sea would make my problem look insignificant, my disturbed mind would calm down and I would start thinking rationally. My batteries would get recharged; I would be looking at the problem with a fresh mind.

The next day I would sit with my good friends like P Chakraborty, Jagannathan, Rana, Malhotra, TS etc and would run through the problems and work out a solution.

The Vizag posting of mine was a landmark posting as BHEL gave me bigger responsibility and I could see the South Indian culture from a close quarter. It was learning for my wife as well. She learnt the intricacies of South Indian cooking like Dosa, Idli, Sambar, Lemon rice etc.My son learnt scooter driving, car driving, swimming, playing tennis etc, the list is endless. That posting of mine transformed all of us to a different person and the sea played its role of mentor. We were like sea gulls circling round and round picking up bits and pieces here and there. It was Jagannathan who first introduced me to management books.Mr.Rath forced me to hone my badminton game.

Austin O'Malley said, "The memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food." Similarly I don't want to remember those technical problems and their solutions but I want to store those beautiful moments spent by the side of sea watching our kids playing, ladies laughing and seagulls circling at a distance and that symbolizes Vizag for me.

Shuddy with us in Surfers Paradise, Gold Coast

Shuddy and Bonny

Poonam

Me biking on sea beach at Surfers Paradise, Gold Coast