Monday, October 15, 2012

August 31, 2010

Presidency Club & Princess Diana's Death

Meera, Gayatri and me, we were in Presidency Club, Egmore, Chennai when Princes Diana was killed in a tragic accident. 

We went to Chennai for an official work that our company wanted a unique cover design and layout for our annual reports and the assignment was given to a unit  called Signet.  We were in Signet office from morning till evening and evenings we walked near the beach side. 

Nothing more to think or imagine in that August Morning . We watched a few youngsters playing Indian tennis from our balcony door and we felt how slow they play a beautiful game but they were heroes here that a few played tennis in India during those days. 

Nothing unusaul we expected but on 31 August 1997 from the news bulletins we came to know that Princess Diana was fatally injured in a car crash in the Pont de l'Alma road tunnel in Paris hounded by paparazzi apart from the tragedies she faced in her life. She lost her last chance to live a happy and meaningful life which eventually ended  in Pitie -Salpetriere Hospital in Paris, France.

That was shocking news indeed for us because she was the only princess people looked upon for a long time and even today there remains a mystery, a charm when people discuss about her. Nothing lasts even life and from the forgone eras we walk across bridges to leave the shadows behind.

We were all stunned and we talked about Diana and declared that  Prince of Wales is the only one responsible for her unfortunate death and we hated him for that. Even when she was hounded by paparazzi at her final encounter in life we felt that the Prince betrayed her that she ended up in a mess she later found difficult to come out.

Life is different in a system called 'official' and we were asked to complete a task and in Signet we fought over designs and at the end created the most costliest cover designs and pages. Signent handed over a hefty bill and our companies were doing extremely well to pay up their package. More or less the cover designs of that year's annual reports stood apart like a stylish art film in an expensive canvas. 

Even today we remember our stay in Presidency club and that club got an inner link where we heard the death of one of the most beautiful princes of this world.  

How tragic life can be and on years, on shadows how days move ahead leaving a million footmarks. Poetic yet tragic nothing remain too long to sustain and before we open our eyes one more day will come to say farewell from the graph sheets of life..In Althorp, Northamptonshire, we witnessed the burial of a princess.

From the world's unending curious diaries we have heard a lot of stories and later Prince replaced Diana with Camilla Rosemary. 

I have recently read one of the most unbiased and sensible observations of a reporter that he wrote :

"when the storm and wind subsided, Camilla managed and settled her sail with the  Prince and his sons were spectators to the not so commendable not so honourable show a Prince could have thought for after princess Diana's death.  Princess Diana had this convincing charm whereas Prince Charles had to struggle for life to convince people with Camilla  but for sure that the people of this world i doubt take the same feeling  that you agree with me. I  know that you cannot replace a princess like Diana with one Camilla. We need to be  polite enough not to talk too much about an otherwise not so commendable royal event but when people try to dig the grave of one dead gone past we remember our elegant earthen princess-Diana. The Prince could only lead her to death but never could defeat her earthen charm even after years of her deaprture."
It is painful that even today paparazzi hound Princess Diana knowing very well that she cannot come back from her royal tomb in  Althorp.  I understand with pain that  there no peace for a lovable princess even in her eternal sleep.

When days move on and in Annual Reports people create trial balances to form a profit and loss account where we painfully add and subtract numbers to reach the final conclusion to make it look more even. It is not artistic a job to tally numbers. It is painful a task - a brain drainer . There no creativity but a kind of relief we find when  numbers align on the final chart sheet.

Through the window panes i can see the branches of gulmohar sneaking towards  my writing table that i cannot close it now. Glass Panels are broken  and there through the windows i can see my clear eastern sky; poetic indeed. 

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