PART ONE
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.
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 movie… The 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.
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.
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…......
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….
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.
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.
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
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.
