Sunday, October 14, 2012

PART ONE

Monday, April 12, 2010



FACTORY AMENDMENT AND ONE TRANSFER



Wing Commander(Retd) offered me a chair.
I sat there looking at his cabin. Well kept...

Our meeting was on prior appointment and he knew the matter.

After offering me a chair he asked me his first question.
 How was your tone when you dealt this matter
He knew the matter...
Yes he is right and even i know that people will not speak sweetly when things go terribly wrong and he wanted me to assure that how i responded to a bad manager.

Mine, my tone….

Like a war plane;
MIG, Suryakiran, is there any more fighter planes which pierce your ear plug. I wanted to ask him.

I mean, was it harsh, he continued...
Calm, firm he sounded good.
Wing Commander,
How did you sound with your enemies when you give your first order?
Attack…or . 
I controlled my thoughts for the second time.
I looked at his table, there this green file labeled ‘Factory Rule, Amendment’.
Amendment?, I wanted to know,
About Crèche, Library, Canteen, First Aid.
I have seen the factory where humans work like machines. Is it something about their welfare? I did not ask. I have come here to file a complaint about one AH steno turned Manager. My friends warned me. This HR will not resource humans but recycle. Go and make a fool of yourself. Yes, me, a fool filed a complaint and this Wing Commander is so cool about that.

I think you were offensive, did you?

Nooooo. I was smiling like a fashion model or the same way you smile when you take off your war planes from a war ship in Indian Ocean.  Factory Amendment, welfare, HR, all lined up  in front of me like a strange processing unit. I was handling an amalgamation- merger of two loss makers.ROC, Factory, Finance, Notices and AGM and in my head I printed all formal documents. Resolutions, Minutes, Approvals, Agenda....
And my tone.....
It wasn’t good and not bad either.
I mean how did you handle?
He waited for me to answer.
Do you want any action against him?

I looked at his factory amendment file again. Yes! our factories are the best. I loved all those factories except for the human machines. But they produced the best of  TVs and Refrigerators those days.


You can understand, in such situations you loose your temper. 
I said with all my calmness controlling my anger 
Ok, he said.
Action, against that Manager, he dusted my letter of appraisal for not for days but a long ten months in his office table drawer. Wing Commander called his Assistant in his cabin and asked for a file. She got one box file and he showed me the exact date on which he forwarded my letter and cleared his responsibility and proved the efficiency of his department.


And he delayed it, your manager...... he continued.
Yes, I said.
He wanted to pacify me and continued....
I know he does not have any right to do that but let me tell you this happens, everywhere. I can understand. Do you want to give me a written complaint?
He enquired.
No, I said, it should not happen again.
He assured and in front of me he dialed my manager and warned.

Wing Commander was not like the other AGM who threw official papers on air and wait for his his assistants to collect them from air.  Once he tried to do that with me when I went in his cabin to collect a letter from IDBI. When he tried to throw, I requested him.
Please do not throw papers, I can take it from your table
He stared at me and placed the sanction letter from IDBI on his table. I thanked him and he never tried flying kites on me.
I went back to my office but  learned very soon that you can not file complaints against your managers even when they damn you. Wing Commander did not show any arrogance of power. He joined HR to serve, I guess. My Manager transferred me for good. I was sick working for him. He chased out all Chartered Accountants to our factory from our regional office in city because he did not want any qualifiers since he is not one..I felt happy for filing a complaint through Wing Commander (retd.) He rewarded me a transfer to a better environment through a dusty damager. 

Corporate office had its charm, a better environment to work.. Amendments, amalgamations. I joined the speaker manufacturing unit, a profitable venture far away from the cool frost free refrigerators. Ford placed their order with the unit for hifi systems according to their specification, a good order apart from the all time profitable unit of Compressors.

In 1996, I met Chirag near Barton Centre.  

Tuesday, April 13, 2010




CHIRAG MRUDALA AND ME




I did not know his name. I was on my way to Cadilac where we made the transparent proof for our Annual Reports. This time it is for our EGM Notices and I wanted to send an email to Industrial Credit and Investment Corporation of India – now  ICICI. I needed this checklist from them for a charge creation for enhancement of working capital. We, in our department handled around 6 listed and 10 and odd non listed companies. Apart from that a few exclusive ones for stakes. I cut across this business complex and reached MG Road on my way to Barton Centre. There he came and dashed on my files with a bag full of unknown things. He was looking back calling someone and my files were all around on the street;

A copy of formal request for loan,
Draft of EGM Notice,
Minutes of the previous meeting
and a whole lot of other office documents.

I was about to scream but he turned and apologized. Then he stared at me. I collected my files and walked to Cadilac in first floor of Barton Centre. When I reached the place there the Manager Ganesh told me that I should wait for 30 minutes as there is a problem with his Page Maker. I walked to the cyber unit and to make me happy further it was closed. I did not want to go back to office and walked towards the eatery down. A film unit was shooting a song on the stairs there with lights and cameras. I ordered a vegetable Sandwich and waited. He landed there again, the one who banged me on road. This time too he stared at me and to my surprise he smiled.  I was not in my happy mood to smile. He came near me and said.

You… if I am right you are the one who yelled at my sister in Rex

Rex..
yes movieThe Rock.. do you remember?

Yes I yelled at someone for not following the Q – the line of order, but I don’t remember her.
 She tried to squeeze in. I said



The Rock, one stupid movie, a bore, Smi and me went for that pain, taking permission from our Manager (against whom I complained) that we need to attend a Marriage. Marriage function means lunch for us. For all the marriages, we go from office for lunch and come back. From lunch break of one hour we took an hour more for 'The Rock'.

It is good that you fought but we all laughed at you from behind.
Great! I said.
But you know I fooled you, he continued.
How? I asked.I pretended as a handicap and got a ticket from you not standing in the Q.
Wow, I said. STUPID I called him from my brain.
Just against a bet. Got 100 bucks for it.
I never thought I meet you again.
He proved that I am a fool.
I wanted to hit him but controlled.
You work here? he asked me.
No.. in Church Street.
What do you do?
I just asked him as a formality.
My wife is a designer. he said.
Fashion Designer, we got one outlet here in this complex. Come when you need a designer outfit, bring your friends from your corporate office.

Designer; Innovative; stylish, I liked designers, designer outfits but the designer price tag for sure fit not in my purse.
Sure, I said to please him.
And we three turned as friends, Chirag Mrudula and Me.
And more of this fashion union I noticed Chirag is crazy of Tagore and we talked more about Tagore than fashion. Chirag shared Tagores Birthday.. 7th May. Chirag introduced me to Divyank another designer freak of high end watches.

   

Wednesday, April 14, 2010




ARTS CLUB

Divyank reminded me of Kurien K from my degree college, a replica.. Kurien K, a cross breed – half German half Indian. He was a nut mug who played guitar and there is something special about him to talk about. His classmate was my friend’s neighbour. Our classes began during college union elections and one day on our way to language class Kurien K and his three inseparable friends landed in front of us near Collins Library. He smiled and gave me a piece of paper. He said in a calm manner that he is in the verge of a party launch. One independent party to contest in union student's elections and about the first meeting at lovers path. He invited all of us.

We were not aware of the geography of our college in detail during those days. We asked our seniors and they gave an idea of this lonely road behind Principal’s house to the library-lover's path; one end of the path covered on huge walls of principal’s house and the other end like a valley full of trees.

Is he serious? I was this curious person..

Let me ask my neighbour, my friend said.


He and his gang dashed us on many occasions and with a cute smile on his face he invited us for his exclusive launch in lover’s path. My friend warned of him that all professors disliked him because he is too smart for them to handle. 
He is good but a bit funny. 
His party.. a joke, 
he does this kind of fundas always. 
He plays guitar- good.
He is a celebrity in college as he looked different.

 

Keep away from him for good, neighbor of my friend warned.
Yes! He launched his party for we did not go and we did not know where he launched it exactly. But he gave me a special copy of his master plan for the student's union:

1. All boys should be allowed to enter women’s hall*
2. Start a shuttle service to library as it is a kilometer away from main college.
3. One canteen for girls and boys.
4. Professors should not bypass lover’s path.
5. Open Ice Cream parlor in college campus.
6. Be Liberal with students who bunk classes, give them attendance.



* Women’s hall is our shelter when we bunk classes. We bunk language classes and buy eatables, sit under trees and chit chat. No entry for boys in that part of the campus.

I don’t remember all those agenda he brought out for his party launch. He stood for election and we (shiny and me),  for the sake of fun gifted our votes to him and he lost. He stood again for union election as a serious candidate for the arts club. On the day of meet the candidate he played guitar and it was good. He lost this time too but students secretly spread this rumor that the professors who disliked him played a silly game favoring his opponent by giving votes against him in empty ballet sheets.  She was a good friend of us who won the arts club against him for  6 votes. We, shiny and i felt he was good for arts club. We never felt we wasted out votes.

And Divyank looked exactly like him.

Thursday, April 15, 2010


NARAYAN SHARMA


Divyank showed me his collection of watches and explained me about his exclusive list of celebrities and their preferences in detail. I was not a freak of watches and I liked the sporty ones - trendy. He has told me how to match the watches with clothes and in western countries how they dress up with matching accessories. There in show rooms you get accessories in one unit; outfit, bag, Shoes, jewels, watches and so and so...., you need to style yourself. He had this list of designers and their preferences, tastes and a whole list of things which I was not interested. I listened him to educate myself and not to show how foolish I stand in front of him with no knowledge about a stylish watch. I had only one Titan Sport Watch and I tied it  as a formal uniform for all events. I never felt that I was less fashionable without a Diyvank collection.

Diyvank told me he had visited Europe en route London several times. He traveled in train from there and showed me pictures. In Europe he stayed with his friend Narayan in Vienna. He said once that Narayan is his childhood friend, best of his best friend. They were together from play school to fine arts. He turned in to freelancing.

I told Divyank that, I get a lot of aerograms from Vienna from my friend Shiny. I know about Austria from her air mails that they speak German and a lot of good things. Good, friendly people but they look at Indians like “oh these poor people of India, come all the way to work here and earn their bread”.....
Their knowledge about India is limited to the slums.” a kind of sympathy they showered on Indians.

 And Narayan, one more reminder:

I met shiny in my pre university college. We turned as friends as i find a connecting link. She has heard of Pisharodies, a rare species you find in this universe. I find it difficult to explain when people ask questions about our origin and I find this sweet girl who knows much more about us. Her school teacher was a Pisharody. And we turned as good friends; friends of a lifetime. We shared onion pakodas, ice creams and secrets sitting in campus canteen. We shared one more common access- No.11 our birthdays, May and June. We eventually met him in college; Narayan Sharma. 

Sajan Jacob
sajan Abraham
and Narayan Sharma – Trios
Our seniors ….

First Sajan – A tall articulate, intelligent studious student.
Second Sajan – Childish with long hair. He got this cute smile when he talked.

And
Narayan Sharma- the noblest among them, a Brahmin by birth and in actions. Spoke less in soft voice.


First and Second Sajans cautioned of us of the lecturers, professors to be in check while Sharma smiled at all our conversations and rarely spoke.





That Malthus-sick, population controller, but helps you with printed notes, OM Mathew, great in Indian Philosophy than Politics, Ann does not know a word in Malayalam…..


We formed opinions about all our teachers through trios and made fun of them in classes without their notice.


Sessions of OM Mathew turned out great. He had this great fascinating teaching skill. He used to liberally donate us with his knowledge on Vedanta.


Trios told us that his sons were named Agasthya and Kapila, names of Sages.Top guns of his congregation expressed unhappiness over his ardent proximity to Hinduism.

Trios were our good friends and they helped us with their note books when we missed a lot of classes on unwanted strikes. Our college was closed much before the first academic year. We sat in our houses and mugged up incomplete portions from guide books, a lot we purchased from Vidyarthi Mitram.


College re-opened as usual with a bang. We were relieved of exams and were happy to meet again after a long vocation of studies and summer. During lunch we went to our campus canteen and we met Trios near a tamarind tree – not trios; the third one missing.

Where is your friend, the noblest, the genuine soft spoken Sharma?

We enquired.


Both were silent for a while and the boyish one with no smile on his face gave us our first shock, a shock of a lifetime to remember for the rest of our life.

Sharma is no more; he died of an electric shock in his house while repairing a gadget.

We have seen the news placed in our college Notice Board and later in Baselian with a black and white photograph. His noble smile intact even in that photograph...
Footnote
Narayan Sharma, Our Heartfelt condolence,  We pray for you…
Baselian....

 

April 16, 2010


Life 


City of Music, City of Dreams...Vienna..
One of the most beautiful places in this world and  from there shiny wrote me many letters.
It is not the kind of frivolous friendship we shared that people boast for but a genuine bond on which humans grow naturally and there we became friends from college. When people around change friendship for honoring wealthy egos i understand friendship will not grow on stinging shadows or on a tree branch of ego or not on a bagful of currency notes.

We were in the same college and enjoyed there not studied much apart from a few theories of micro and macro economics, trade and commerce and the most beautiful poetry.


'IF ..... i loved that poem which i learned in my degree class and i wrote that poem in my mind from the day it was taught in a class very  close to our college great hall. Life was great near great hall but how tragic it can turn when dreams fall apart from the sky roof segregating the fine mandates of human existence.

LIFE


Life has changed in one bright morning for a soul.

Shiny gave this news to me when I reached college on that fateful day.
Life changes at one blank point where dreams clash on a soil where wars are fought for power and destruction.

You know life is like that. It gives us shocks, vibes and waves.

Life is a wild ocean with dangerous waves… Pramila Devi wrote in her award winning poem LIFE….

Pramile Devi was my first poet idol in college days. A poet I looked upon among other students. She wrote with such great flow. I had known about her after she won her inter collegiate poetry competition..

A poet and Professor called CJ Mannummude taught us for a year in pre-university college. He used to read his poems in literary joints. Our class nicknamed him as “Mahakavi’- great poet..



Yes, life gives hopes, dreams and shocks ….
Shiny gave me one such on that day….

Shock….
Ann committed suicide today morning 6.30 in her house...



Ann..

Second year Literature student….

The pretty one we looked upon..

The simple girl translated Prema Panduranga’s speeches..


And she committed suicide

Why????
Ann, pretty girl with a gifted voice. .


In our casual encounters we tell:

Pretty ones in college

Ann, Zara

And after them we two…. then we all
Giggle..

And we hear the news of Ann,

Suicide…..

Why???.
Several Reasons ….



Contribution from students….
1. She was asked to marry a guy she liked not,

2. She wanted to go for higher studies,

3. Her brother slapped her in rage, she collapsed and died -suicide a cover up act,

4.She was schizophrenic, under treatment

Ann was not there to come out and answer from her deathbed to give us the real reason which bothered us. Impulse, accident….



We, students, like in one final day procession, went to her house in groups wearing black badges.



Body has not arrived, gone for post mortem. Someone informed us.

We waited

Around 4 in the evening her dead body arrived in one government hospital ambulance, wrapped in white clothes. She looked pretty and calm like in sleep.

We placed our flowers.

Ann… we miss you.

Her sister cried aloud..

Brothers showed their controlled stiff grief..

Ann was the best among all her siblings.... we thought..



One of her nieces placed her hand on the wreath.
Shh…. she is sleeping don’t disturb, her little brother warned..


And all cried….
Life
A question mark.. Ann proved…......

 

Friday, April 17, 2010


APNA
Divyank was an all in all fine arts brain...
He was in  a theater group called LIFE.
They converted terrace of houses as their theater.  Staged exclusive English plays for a limited invitees like us and there we met  Aravind.  Aravind an art film addict directed plays for his own theater. We cheered him and encouraged.. His plays were like that of English August and Peruvazhiyambalam.


Arvind reminded me of this senior student in our PU College, who acted in Peruvazhiyambalam. He once conducted a quiz show on Art Cinema in our college and we (shiny and me) took part. His first question of the show:

Who is the director of Nirmalyam?

a boy called Thomas raised his hands.
In an expressionless tone he answered
Do not know…..
A roar from the rest...
Second question:
Who directed Peruvazhiyambalam
Thomas got up, straight answer...
Not me......


The art guy got rugged up and when Thomas tried this for the third time. Thomas was asked to leave. He walked out in style……... We observed the whole show. Most of the questions were on Art Film Directors and about International classics. And the funniest part is that no one answered his questions.


Arvind’s plays had this mystic charm. . Good to watch plays with no beginning or end but a charm emerged in between from somewhere in his plays and we call it as his unique skill.  He directed plays in a way that we sit and watch until the end. If questioned on the story he smiles.  
End… you make it of your own....he left the climax to us..



Divyank introduced us to- APNA
(Association for Preservation of Nature and for Adventure Activities)



APNA organised Treks and Divyank dragged us for  one and i met Mala there in my first trek to Kallathgiri Falls in Western Ghats. I got the itinerary of this trek from Divyank and about the items to be carried . 
Carry fewer luggage and follow the leader and his instructions. Be serious, it is not  picnic.
Divyank gave me a lengthy lecture to show me that how professional a trekker is he.



Tentative Programe chart of APNA: 

Assemble at KSRTC Bus Station (Majestic)
Saturday
Patform No.3 -                                                        12.30 hrs
Departure to Tarikere by bus                              13.00 hrs
Tarikere to Lingadahally by bus                          17.30 hrs
Lingadahally to Kallathgiri Trek                          18.00 to 20
Camp at Kallaathgiri                                              20.00
-prepare dinner
-camp fire
-rest

Sunday

Breifing on trek                                                     06.30.7.00 hrs
Trek along waterfalls                                             07.00.10.00
Break fast                                                                10.00.10.30
Hiking towards Muthadi/BB Hills                        10.30.14.00
Learing basic skills of climbing, trekking, ...
river crossing, rappling etc
Lunch rest                                                               14.00-15.00

Other programs to be decided along the way;

Return via Muthadi/BB Hills to Chickmaglur by bus from there to Bangalore


Notes:
Participants should bring their own: ruck sack, a pair of additional dress, torch, mosquito repellants, pull over, wind shelters, mufflers and food, wear tough clothes preferably jeans and T shirts.



We were around 6 girls and Divyank stood there as our pillar of support. Mala introduced herself to me and we got along well. We turned as friends and made a few treks and the one trek we missed was the Himalayan Trek of a month. I did not get permission from my office as there this Annual General Meeting of our Company with Fifty Thousand Shareholders. Manage a company of fifty thousand shareholders and their AGM- a serious joke..
Fifty Thousand Notices
Fifty Thousand Annual Reports
Fifty Thousand Dividend Instruments.
And their so called disposals again in Fifty Thousands within the stipulated time schedule.
We can not question SEBI guidelines or Company regulations.

Mala had to set right her collections for spring.

Divyank went for this trek and  made us mad over by explaining over and over to make us feel jealous. Divyank and Mala later planned for a major exhibition of artistic and designer collections. We sat across and made plans on how to organize and how to conduct a major event. Arvind promised that he will bring out his stunning plays for the evenings.  Where to host the show?  We fueled our brain to find an answer. Almost after an hour of discussion Mala got this flash news…..

Dr. Srikant….

 

Monday, June 11, 2010

INDIA IS MY COUNTRY


Union elections in colleges of Kerala are special events. Students compete to bring down a carnival in campus and we all loved the lighter aspect of elections. There were a lot of able spokespersons in college for each group and they come to classes in groups to demonstrate that how good are they in their allotted responsibilities. There was a specialist named Anvar in Kerala Students Union (KSU) and his speeches were humorous and point blank. Students admired him for his abilities but he never stood for any elections. He generated votes for his party through his golden words. Even Students Federation of India (SFI) cast an envious eye on him as he was liked by even opponents.


When we talk about students’ unions I remember Zakharias K Sunil. He was a member of SFI and a fire brand. He spoke with fire as a practice than anything else for we felt. He must have done it as a formal stage show during his school days like a mass drill after morning prayers. In our school one teacher through microphone guided us to chant our National Pledge or oath we called it, every day in our school assembly.


(The Indian National Pledge is commonly recited by Indians in unison at public events, during daily assemblies in many Indian schools, and during the Independence Day and Republic Day Observance Ceremonies.)
 The words of the National Pledge go like this:
General Pledge
 India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters.I love my country. I am proud of its rich and varied heritage.
I shall always strive to be worthy of it.
I shall give my parents, teachers and all elders, respect, and treat everyone with courtesy.
To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion.
In their well being and prosperity alone, lies my happiness.
 National Integration Pledge (in English)
I solemnly pledge to work with dedication to preserve and strengthen the freedom and integrity of the nation.
I further affirm that I shall never resort to violence and that all differences and disputes relating to religion, language, region or other political or economic grievances should be settled by peaceful and constitutional means.
 We used to scream each line of the pledge with no knowledge for why we scream it aloud. It was mandatory and not like the Friday’s prayers meant for Catholics (and for those who want to kneel down for half an hour.)


Speeches of Sunil reminded us of such mandatory sessions as he did not know what he spoke. He spoke about Marx, revolution and Government Policies which we were not interested of. We were interested about cultural shows, musical events, street dramas, library books and special onion pakodas of college canteen. We wondered why he screamed always and we did not understand a word about Marx or Lenion or Russian Revolution. Otherwise he was a friendly boy with a pleasant attitude and helping nature. He was an active student’s union member from school days and continued in college. He stood for election from SFI as first year representative and we (shiny and me collectively) decided not to vote for him as we loved Gandhys and voted blindly for the party and the followers of a dynasty. Nehru and Indira were our leaders and we thought all people work for them were great. But those were childhood beliefs and we understand politics of all parties better now. Sunil was indeed a better candidate than the opponent but we were biased those days. To the disappointment of many there was a heated argument in 2nd year History Degree Class with a Professor and a Senior Student (roughee). Professor sent him out of the class and later suspended him. To take him back a strike originated from his group and it led to violence and before the union election, college closed for better to avoid further damage to the reputation of our college management.


Sunil’s dream of contesting for the second year ended as the group he belonged has beaten up one poor KSU activist and all the girls turned against the hunters and KSU swept the election in high margin. Sunil lost a chance for the second time. Sunil was a better candidate a fact we all knew well within our circle of students.

We boycotted Sunil once in our degree class. We had this great Economics Professor we all loved and respected. He was an honest professor and a son of a former minister. He was a very simple and down to earth rank holder with a Phd to add  his merit. We never missed his classes. He taught us Micro Economics. His marriage we attended in a church in Pala and we were surprised to see an ocean of crowd come forward to attend his weddig. His marriage was the simplest wedding we have attended that after the wedding all of us received a small slice of plum cake and a glassful of lime juice. What a great reception; when people spend a lot of money on weddings and other functions as compulsion I remember him.



And Sunil came to interrupt his great lecture sessions. Professor was against strikes. When Sunil barged into our class with associates Professor continued his lecture sessions.


Sunil Screamed
Inquilab Sindabad
His group screamed along with him like a cluster of waves in attack against one solid sea shore.


Professor tried his best to control our class but the strikers were many and they defended like how the defenders block the best player of the opponent team in a football match..
Professor felt the pressure, walked out of the class with dissappointment and Sunil came forward to give a fire brand speech in front of us.


We were all upset with Sunil’s behavior and walked out of the class along with the Professor. That was a shock for a strong young blooded student’s union activist.


Sunil continued his activities as one SFI activist but could not contest any elections as there were many activists in our college. Later in one of the strikes he burnt the driver’s seat of a bus belonged to Kerala State Road Transport Corporation. A few of his friends informed us that there was a police case against him and his father is very upset about him. Sunil could not do much in politics as life must have taught him better and in one of my trips to Kerala one of our common friends informed me that Sunil is now a School Teacher.
A good transformation and may be in school assemblies he will be now guiding students…..


“India is my country.. I love my country………  I am proud of its rich and varied heritage....I solemnly pledge to work with dedication to preserve and strengthen the freedom and integrity of the nation…
And for good I heard as a conclusion that he is not in any group politics. 




Wednesday, July 10, 2010

THIS IS FOR ANU

Rarely do we meet good human beings in life. We meet in our life a lot of people who love only themselves and the ones who give priority to only their selfish boundaries. At times we find parallel worlds of wild species but like sparks in darkness we find humans with real hearts. May be at times people turn on others with misunderstanding but at that point of time, a few prefer to do extreme damage to the ones they encountered causing severe damage to the ones they choose to damage. But like dew drops of morning a few shower us with kindness and compassion. In general we find people who prefer to stay in their  limited cells of selfishness. For them, Kindness and compassion are show pieces of diplomacy.

I remember Anu for all the good reasons and when ever I play my veena she comes there close to my heart.. We met in a disputed park of Bangalore Development Authority in our morning walk. The place was in dispute as one government official built a temple misusing his power in the department in that park and named it as Shiva Shakti Devashtana with a beautiful Goddess Parvathi statue in blackstone, with Ganesha, and Subramanya – Family of Lord Shiva. Judges of High Court and Civil Courts lived in a lane facing the park and they objected a temple in BDA Green Park. A case was filed in court by the judges and that temple was in dispute for years. General public visited  temple regularly and worshipped Shiva and his family..


Thara Aunty introduced Anu to me in one of my morning walks. In one morning when we were walking in the park she told me that she wants to gift her thirty year old Veena to a music lover. She did not want to sell it as she loved the instrument and did not want it be sold. I was reluctant first but she insisted that I take it and later accepted it because of her love for the instrument and respect for music. That was original Tanjavoor Veena her Guru designed for her and got it done from Tanjavoor a very unique one with a special tonal quality. Her Veena was not in use for a longer period and the strings were damaged. I have done up the Melam and replaced strings and it turned out to be a great instrument. I have got a small veena in wood from Balaji of Sree Musicals and gifted Anu as a memoir to keep it in her pooja room in the same place she had kept her Tanjavoor Veena. When ever I play my Veena I remember Anu and I know very rarely we get gifts like that in life and I am fortunate to receive a Veena as a Gift in my life from a complete unknown music lover. It is not that she gifted me a Veena I remember her but for her concern on a musical instrument which she could sold it for a price through one musical shop.  

When I see hackers and stingers who engage in missions like humiliating others with no respect or concern for other human beings I think of people like Anu. They come in life like a soft breeze, create an impact and remain in our hearts for ever. It is true, rearly very rarely we meet good human beings with good heart in a wild like world.


Friday, July 11, 2010

INNER  LAYERS

In school we were taught how to be good humans and how one should listen to the voice of conscience. A person who listens to his/her conscience need not be a loser in life. And that conscience lifts the mind in utter conflicts and gives the insight that this universe is not a purchasable commodity .  But in general you see a different group of people who jump and sit on a chair when offered and even break the chair to floor  into pieces and pull down even the honour of the person who offered the chair, their interest is plainly material gain and they know well to trap such impressive targets and there no escape for the people who get caught in their traps. And there you are trapped for life with no escape routs possible to live with honour lost.



When I talk of Sonia Gandhi I remember a friend of mine. She taught me to never believe in the outer layersof a human but go with the depth. She was Jayanthi who played basketball with me for the school team. We shared a similar interest in sports and followed tennis and shuttle badminton. We played shuttle indoor in school auditorium. Plucked chickoo fruits from a tree near the long jump sand pit. Sat under the shadows of gulmohars near the basket ball ground and shared our lunch packets. Participated in all extra curriculums and received a lot of prices.

Jayanti was matured than her age and very composed that surprised me. She lost her father when she was twelve and from that time onwards she watched life differently. She brought simple meals for lunch and never complained on anything in general. She taught me not to be a loser in life and even at times of misery how to prove a life that is a gift from heaven above. And when I see meanness and selfishness of people I remember Jayanti’s words.


Never give up in life.





Expect and wait in life for the unexpected and even the worse.




Fight against odds and interpreters of your life. World around you will be mean but you don’t need to be mean to get happiness. Honest people will not come and announce they are honest. How you treat and respect that word is more important.



I was surprised at her matured talks during those days and wondered how a school girl can speak of high end philosophy but when she shared her story bit by bit I realized what she spoke is experienced truth.




Her father was into business and they had acres of agricultural land and coffee plantation Coorg. Their family was one of the richest in all aspects their holidays were a trip abroad or the most beautiful places of India. Her father wanted his children to go abroad for higher studies like her cousins had a lot of dreams as a visionary. But they lost everything to a friend her father trusted more than any one. He formed a partnership with her father and opened a financial institution and vanished with Crores of cash which her father had to pay back later. People around accused her father and cases were filed. Relatives and friends closed their eyes and doors as Jayanti said they pretended and tried to avoid. They felt associating with a family which has cases filed in court against was a class concern. Life was not the same and her father died of a cardiac arrest in one cold November. Her mother struggled and nothing was left as their accounts were frozen. Media never found the truth as for them it was a sensation and published the news with no human concern. Her mother struggled with four children and the only way to meet the ends left her with the only one option to work. A few of her relatives offered her a helping hand but she knew they would treat her and her children later and use them as house maids which she hated. Jayanti came to our school in her 8th standard with recommendation from Ramakrihna Mission where her mother worked. Mission listened to her mother’s plight and offered a job to her mother and sponsored all children. Since Jayanti was a bright student they sent her to our school. Their relatives kept away from them and they lived their life in a small rented house far far away from the richness they were in once. But that made them not losers. Jayanti had told me how the world change around her after she lost her father and the treatment their family received from the outer world. She has taught me to fight back when life offers you a difficult platform and the world around turn against you and concoct.


Jayanti told me several times that the people who want to trouble others will always find a way to do that it is difficult for us to go and teach them. When people isolated our family during our crises, God opened a door and through that door we learned to smile again at life.


Jayanti told me once and showed me her diary





There it was written.





“I don’t feel a mountain on my head to break or there one sun to burn me. I feel I am right in my conscience and my father was an honest man. I feel I am right in my mind and I never tried to harm any one intentionally. I don’t have regrets for the loss of wealth or for the lost feelings of relatives. I got now a better understanding of humans and now I know there are people live in this world with only time to humiliate others. And I know how our wealth was hacked by a dishonest friend of my father and that left me with a feeling of shame and the kind of inhuman treatment my people were rewarded with. I know people change a few when they change act in masks and when I see them I feel sympathy and think they are the same people praised my father liberally to receive a favour or two. I am not to here to prove or please any one. Let me please first God that he has gifted me a life and he knows well to protect that. Outer layers vanish and the inner layers remain and there you find my God. God has created this world and I don’t think I need to be obliged to any one except my parents. The noise of outer world is frivolous that I best ignore. I don’t think I should get recognition from a group of people who believe wealth is ultimatum and class comes from wealth. I am not going to give up in this life. I think I am right….”


She wrote with such determination that I felt Jayanti is right and she remained my trust worthy friend whom I could rely and depend.. When I see the masks of modern world and the people who act as friends and sting you from behind I wonder; is life worth for them only for such deeds.


Jayanti became a Doctor later and went abroad for further studies.. All her siblings got through the rough patches and reached to better life. She sends me yearly greetings from her London home with stories worth to read. She is a real friend of a lifetime 


Tuesday, July 27, 2010

DEAREST TEACHER

We remember Rejimon as a small cute lovely boy of five with so much life in his innocent oval shaped face.. We met him first in a very strange situation. He came to our house one evening with his mother and two sisters in swollen face and tears all around  in his eyes. His mother brought him home as he was crying. My mother took a day off from her school and he terribly missed his teacher and he wanted to meet her the same day. His mother explained his plight and my mom hugged him and told that he should not cry and she was unwell that she could not come to school to teach him. He smiled on one cream biscuit and later went back to his home in a cheerful mind. When I see my sister’s son Rohan I think of him. How sweet was he in five and how cute his round face and eyes of sparklers. He turned out a dear student of my mom and his sisters our friends. He left her school later and joined  high school and was in touch with my mother. His sisters were in our school and we often met them on our way to school. My mother used to write letters to him and he promptly replied. We all shifted to our base from central kerala and after that we never met any of Rejimon’s family and in one  of his letters he wrote that his mother passed away due to illness.

My mom used to talk about him always with affection and after her death I got a letter of him from my mother’s diary.


Dearest Teacher,



I have received your letter. I was waiting for your letter as I was not sure where you live exactly now. I had a sprain in my right hand and the day it turned alright the first letter I write is for you. On November 19 I got a baby girl and my wife is in her house now. I am in Mercy Hospital and practicing as a Pediatrician. My father and my second mom are fine. They live in Changanachery, twenty minutes drive from my place. My elder brother Joby is in Bombay. My first sister Ruby is in Australia. Second Sister Binny and her husband practice in Vaikam. Both are Homeo Doctors. My wife Sindhu is a post graduate. She is not working any where. I would like to meet you and when you come to Kerala I hope I can meet you.
Let me cut short my letter. Please inform me when you come to Kerala

Rejimon Jose.

His greeting card and handwrittern note to my mom...






















My mother used to talk about him with so much affection and in this mechanical world it is difficult to find students who remember their teachers who taught them in primary levels. We have not seen him for ages but we remember him as one innocent five year who missed  his teacher terribly and cried all the day to meet his teacher many years ago.

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