I want to be Captain

These days, with the advent of social media, any employee can mail, tweet, ping, comment and tag her/his top guy of the company. The line of control to provide higher powers and right to speak out or decide is becoming hazy over the last few years. Or has it?

Studies show and many optimists believe, the traditional hierarchical, top-heavy, controlled business scene is now diluted helping in being nimble and quick on decision making. I have my doubts. We love to believe that we are now living in an ultra-slick, modern, high performing, merit recognizing environment. Cultures within a company and the corporate environment as a whole is changing. I don’t think so. And it’s not just my belief. There are counter research studies and academic write ups elaborating the same. They have found that the way organizations function now exhibits hundreds of years of hierarchical structures and remain unchanged. This is so because these structures “can be linked to survival strategies” in the workplace.

I believe the biggest reason why hierarchy is still around, will remain so and should remain so, is that hierarchies work better. A human mind keeps looking for order and security. We are always looking for something to give us that extra push and an added cushion of comfort. We need someone, seemingly better and brighter to show us the way. Add to that, a more competent mind/individual will always want to be differentiated from his so called less proficient peers. Her/his need to grow, move ahead and access more power and accountability only accentuates hierarchy and layers of superiority. Another latent but critical factor as I have experienced is, professional and sometimes personal (out of office) relationships with superiors still matter for an employee’s current job and opportunities at work. I would call it as “in-house networking skills”.

It is not what leaders in the company say or publish in weekly, monthly or quarterly meets. It is the mind. And mind is very complex. We as humans need to perform well. But our need to perform well more often than not, comes from being competitive. We need to be better than the other. Added to that is the need to be seen with high performing, more influential crowd. It’s like becoming a fan of a cricket or football team. We all like underdogs. But we love and want to be seen as a supporter a winning team.  As it is said by some wise man, “if you want to improve, be with people who are better than you”.

Another very acute factor as I notice is during decision-making. Whether amicable discussions which turn into a constructive debate before becoming a never ending mail trail or a fire-fighting situation, wherein, on the moment trick decisions are to be taken. A person on a higher ground, apparently more effective with his repeat successes and hence cannot go wrong comes to the rescue of the quarrelling group. People at a higher pedigree are thrust with certain behavioural and performing characteristics which may not really be true to them. But with time, because of their successes in one area of specialization, broad and unjustified inferences are made for that person, many a times, finally making him falter.

But then, why do we want to believe in flat organisation stories? I believe, that’s how we are brought up. We all believe fairy tales till late in our lives. Partly it is make believe, aspirational thoughts. Then there is the sudden up rise of “ways to reach” your right audience such as in-house professional networking forums and social networking to make one believe it is a flat structure.

If everything is so flat and non-hierarchical, why is it that organisations still call some businesses as front-ending while others as back-end functions? Or, why is a certain function a support service or a shared service while the other is a critical market facing business? Because, it works!

11 players make a team. But there is still a captain. And everyone dreams to become one.

Un-addressed Letter

That letter I wrote,
But never could post.
That moment of clenched fist,
In a moment, life was lost.
.
In the first few lines
I wasn’t sure
In all truth, I say
You would had to endure
As I could not make myself to confess
As also the fear of your no or a yes?
.
I knew though, once
My feelings are known to you
You will understand
Why I was drawn to you.
You were the one who made me realize
The difference between the setting sun & sun rise!
.
By the end of the letter
I had only repeated myself a million times
My desperation was getting crazy
There were no reasons, no rhymes.
All I wanted to know, is that you know
And smile back, as I loved you so.
.
May a rains have passed by now
Your address has rubbed off the envelope
But on some winter nights, I still
Imagine, hoping against hope.
I thank, Almighty; for keeping it sane
My sweet memories, sweeter, they remain.
.
Q
12th February 2014
(sometime in 1995)

This pain is priceless

.
inspired by a Bengali poem/song by @shayan - a Bangladeshi singer and social thought bearer (a long read; only for vella folks like me!)
.
This pain is priceless
.
Found an old book; while dusting, opened it
Only to see, the name….
Misty eyed, got reminded; of that long lost friend
Who gifted it to me…
.
Whiling away time, morning till evening
Straying, we loitered on city streets
Kicking dust, walking aimlessly;
Singing old and new songs
Without any inhibitions.
Never, did we hold hands.
But we knew our worlds,
Were entwined to meet at the end of the road.
There were fights and arguments,
And good times; when we laughed encore
Reminded of those days together
I realize now; I still cherish your company
.
I know I have lost you. And it pains, endlessly.
But I need to keep this pain; this pain is priceless.
.
Why do we keep burying emotions, as we grow up?
We keep adding acquaintances and losing friends, as we grow up, why?
There is no news about you; I don’t know your whereabouts at all
But I do remember times together, happy and sad
We were partners; soul mates, feeling in equal measure.
Today in this selfish, mad rush of the world
Let me confess for once, in my fading remembrances
I have forgotten to remember you so many times
During my vulnerable moments, happy and sad
Yes, I have learnt to live alone
And frankly, I don’t need a friend anymore
But, in all this supposedly completeness of my life
There blows a sudden gush of vacuum
May be, just may be it’s you
I don’t think we will meet again, ever
But still I do hum our happy song sometimes.
.
Am sure you are living a good life
I too am breathing just fine
But there are times when, in a crowd of people known to me
Where I am not alone; but lonely.
That one last time we had met
Silence was being spoken, instead of words, between us
We knew reasons; yet kept it repressed within 
In our hearts, we still believed this would get better.
Never ever, did we imagine we would walk away.
The heart acting as the crossroad
To the final decision of our lonely destinations
This world too, played its clever game 
And made us heartless to each other
Our egos fuelled the fire
And burnt our dreams of desire
We both won; battle of ego
But lost the war to win over the world
To live together forever.
.
I know I have lost you. And it pains, endlessly.
But I need to keep this pain; this pain is priceless.
.
In celebration of that worthless win 
Today as I reminisce those days
There is a sweet pain of your memory
And hurt to have lost you purposely.
Am not sure though; suddenly why,
At this point in life you are running through my mind
It’s almost past a lifetime, that we have met
To speak the language of silence again,
Through our eyes and touch.
.
I try to sketch your last look at me
That stare, the smile, the innocent rage
And then imagine, how would be your look now
Every time, I fail.
My falling tears, wash away your face from paper.
I have a blank page; and blank space on my mind.
The whole expanse of the sky falls on me,
Drenches me in your memories, soils me within and takes me adrift
Breaks me and kills me slowly, everyday.
I wish no one loses a friend like you were to me
I pray no friend says good bye, the way we went away, silently.
.
I know I have lost you. And it pains, endlessly.
But I need to keep this pain; this pain is priceless.
.
ishQ
10th February 2014

Unknown traveler

Though we have never met

And don’t think we ever will

I don’t even know you yet

You will never come to know, I exist.

Though we have not spoken

We have exchanged voices

I have called you out and heard you whisper

waking me, every morning

Though we have never taken a stroll

But I have lost and found you, everyday

You have been my crowd

I was on the train, you missed.

Though this message will never reach you

Or may be it will; may be it has

You may not take the train anymore

I wait for you, though.

Q

27th December 2013

"Protected Feelings"

Anyone I meet, I look for you
Whoever I talk to, I want to know what you would have said
I hear the words you never said
I agree with you.

I confess to myself I need you
And then I console myself for it
I promise not to ask the same question over and over again, to myself.
I confess again.

You have become the reason for my existence
Your smile is my sunshine, your voice is my compass of life
The words you speak weave my thoughts together
Your eyes tell me what I should believe
The flow of your hair changes the rhythm of my heart
Your fragrance lingers, never to leave me alone

And I watch you from a distance
As a stranger in a new town
You have always lived with me, but
I don’t exist for you.

Secrets are not kept, they should be protected
I will protect you from the world
And keep you away from me
I always knew, we were never meant to be.

And yet I hope for a day
When you will know
There was someone who walked by
Asked you for an address, to live forever in oblivion


Q
30th April 2013

Impossible Hope

I have to learn to avoid asking questions, answers to which are known and may hurt

I have to steer clear of dilemma, which I know will only entangle me more

I start speaking and then I halt

I start listening and then stop hearing you even, suddenly

I keep looking back as if waiting for something to come by

I desire for things, of no use to me anymore

I want to be in a crowd when I am desperately alone

And among swarm of people, I try to find my identity

I need to speak out

I need to listen to you

I need to hear my voice and know that you are listening to me

Unfulfilled desires, for how long will they remain so?

Is it possible to yearn for the impossible and yet hope I will return to you?

22nd April 2013

We just haven’t met yet, so what?

All my desires seem fulfilled by one look of yours

All I desire is you, when I think of you

We just haven’t met yet, so what?

If the only way to meet you is to dream of you, so be it

If the only way to have you near me is in my dreams, so be it

You are my dream; I shall meet you every night

You are my thirst and you are the quench

You are my thoughts, and my talk

Who else do I speak to about you, but myself?

You are my reason for all seasons of the heart

I skip a beat when you look at me

I breathe only because you are in my life

You are the journey, you are the destination

We shall meet one day.

We just haven’t met yet, so what?

Excited yet Pained

I wasn’t just happy, I was excited.
Excited to see my past. 
Excited to meet people I hadn’t met in years. 

I wasn’t just delighted. I felt ecstasy.
Ecstatic about nostalgia
Ecstatic about today.

It wasn’t just joy. It was thrill
Thrilled to see old faces with new smiles
Thrilled to meet new people with old stories.

I wasn’t just in bliss, I felt blessed
Blessed to have been there; to have been sent there.
Blessed to experience these emotions.

I wasn’t just sad, I was pained
The lingering pain of waiting another year to meet again
The static pain of not meeting some people, ever again.

 - 22nd December 2012

Trying to rhyme

I imagine you 
and I think of a poem
I think of words for you
Real words describing a fantasy
How ironic can it be? 

Am far from someone I feel so close to
Am close to a distant painful feeling of loneliness and yet I dream
I see poppies and lilies
I see the sun and the rainbow
It's the rain I never get to experience..........

I get a dry throat thinking of you
I am not thirsty, though
Not any more............

I have seen the river
I live in a desert now
A desert so vast, so open and so clean
I can clearly see all around
I have no company.............

Am not expecting anyone either
Its just me and my imagination
Its you, in my imagination..........

You bid good bye for real
My poems lost their rhyme.


Q
27th November 2012

Ask me why am I happy?

Am happy as I know what keeps me happy; as I know what happiness to me is.

I am aware of my limits of happiness; my contentment is my fervour to be happy

I don’t go looking for happiness, and hence I don’t fear loosing it

Some days when I cant seem to find a reason to happy, am not upset

As I cant find a reason to be unhappy either

I don’t race against time, thought or feelings, as I know happiness has its pace

I have found that happiness finds time, place and reason. But only if you are ready to invite it

I am happy as I can think; and question myself

I am happy as I can ask myself; of my desires, my longing

I am happy as I can control. I am happy as I know I can still be happy, without many things.

I don’t measure happiness. I never compare happiness.

I hear as much I have to; I speak only when asked.

I get happy seeing others happy.

Am happy as I am happy being this way.

Alone, but not lonely

Though we haven’t spoken much about it
But enough has happened to prove what’s between us
Neither of us has acknowledged it yet
But we don’t deny the feeling brewing within 


It isn’t that our paths have not crossed
Yes, we have avoided each other for long
Day light does make it easy to keep my eyes wide open
I still dream of the one last meeting, every night



Its been a while I have been upset with someone
Even longer since I have been spoken to, by someone
Though I don’t remember when we last met
But the moment you walked away has stayed with me
I am alone, but am not lonely

ishQ

3rd November 2012

The New Me

The brightness of her face soothes me so

That I close my eyes and go into a trance

As if she carries the early winter morning sun….

She manes her ruffled hair, standing on her terrace

The mysterious smile hides her true feelings, perhaps

But her naughty eyes give away a confession….

Speech haywire, thoughts directionless and mood swings

Everything seems going just the opposite of what I want

My heart resisted, the heart is the culprit to give in….

A move makes the winds go wild

A stare makes time stall its move

A step towards me commands my heart beat…

Am searching for my old careless self

I am becoming someone she needs me to be

I love her. I love the new me.

I am (still) Thirsty

I was getting desperate now. It was past 8 in the morning and I had yet not got my first tea of the day. 

Thankfully, by the grace of Almighty and training of the hospitality industry, I landed unhurt in Lucknow. The hostesses acted as good hosts and my co-passengers were a good sport too. All of them ignored me royally.  

The moment I sat in the pre-paid cab, I ordered the driver to stop at the next best decent tea stall outside the airport. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. But he surely asked some intruding and personal questions – starting with a very innocent, “bhaiyaji, was not tea available in the airport?” When I did not reply, he went on, “acha bhaiyaji, I have heard they serve beverages on board too. Didn’t they offer you on the flight?” To which I replied, “No, they were not serving today.” This is when he surprised me. He said, “Oh, bhaiyaji, low cost waali se aaye hain?”

Anyways, as we drove out of the airport compound, my cabbie offered to provide his unsolicited advice on the various kinds of tea and tea stalls in and around the airport. I thought to myself, “I have spoken a lot for the morning, now let’s listen for few moments”. He started with his versions, preferences and preparation of tea in permutations and combination of more milk, less water, tea in spoons and measurement on hand etc. I was reminded of my days while staying with friends, when every morning it was by turns that we had to make tea for the group. And surely enough, everyday tea tasted different. 

Just as rose by any other name would smell as sweet, tea by any other hand every morning provided the same pressure, to ease.

Anyhow, back on the road, the cabbie stopped at a decent tea stall, went out and ordered tea. I waited in the cab, listening to songs on the radio. And then it happened. Radio played the song, “pani da rang....”(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLuVYUxRqOg&feature=fvwrel). Barely, had I taken my mind off the almost missed flight, the miss who ignored me and tea I was missing, that it all came rushing back to me. The hostess who finally quenched my thirst was actually a better host…  or let’s put it this way, she was really ho(s)t!

Tea was really nice. The song changed. It was “tip tip barsa pani….”!! Arre, who on earth would want to listen and fantasize a wet Raveen Tandon at such an early morning time? My cabbie sure did. Well, I liked it too. I was reminded of Raveena Tandon, Divya Bharti and the moment the song changed again to “pani pani re…” is when I realized that the ho(s)t resembled Tabu. It then struck me that theme on radio today was water. If water was the theme of the day, I had to control, and I did. Even my family astrologer had strongly advised me to stay away from water. I resolved not to have any wet dreams… eerr…. Fantasies…. eerrr, let’s call them flash back.

No tea, no coffee, no water, no host, nothing hot. There was a certain chill in the air. October was looking fresh and cold. To stay away from water, I decided to avoid bath too. 

In the coming days, there would be enough food for thought to satisfy my hungry mind. And my thirsty eyes were witness to stories, wet and dry, unfolding in the coming days.

I Am Thirsty

I am not an early riser. In fact, there are very few reasons that can make me rise early. And now that I retrospect, most of the reasons are very personal. I wake up early because I have to catch an early morning flight for a holiday or I get up early because I am running loosies… so on and so forth!! The only challenge with me of getting up early is from the moment I wake up, I feel something is not right. Funny part is, most of the times, I am right!

This time, ofcourse, it was a genuine holiday I had picked. After 2 years of wait and missing being there, I was going to be in Lucknow for Durga Puja. Sleep was optional. But I did sleep well, fantasizing… eerrr… dreaming of days (and nights) ahead.

Reaching the airport was easy and smooth. This time, the cab guy was on time. I left on time and reached the airport well before time to avoid the extra security during festival time. To my surprise and not a pleasant one, most travelers thought exactly the same. All queues had taken the shape of Q. Added to that the multiplicity of agonies - entry to the airport had a south Indian guy who could ask the right question in Hindi, the usher assisting passengers to the right check-in queue responded only in English, not realizing the aunty in the saree and gajra is only nodding but not moving an inch. Then, there are “smart” travelers who will keep jumping queues before the usher has finished her/his instruction and mess up big time. I checked in and got through security, just in time when it was the last and final call. For the first time to catch a flight, and in a long time I actually ran! I jogged up quickly to the doors to get onto the bus to take me to the aircraft. On the bus, it struck me – holy crap, today was the day I had the chance to have my name announced in full blast on a public announcement system!! I missed the chance of a life time. (Not knowing then, life gives you a second chance, in quick succession, sometimes!! More on that later)

Once on the flight, I figured, I was the last passenger to board but the flight isn’t taking off. I picked the prettiest hostess, waited for her to cross the aisle and enquired, with my huffing still on after the run. She smiled and my heart said, “now that’s what is called a Good Morning!!”. The moment she informed, “we are waiting for some passengers to arrive through a connecting flight from Dubai to Lucknow, I suddenly said “ohhh, Sheikh that booty”! She smiled again, but for the last time, never ever looking at me for the whole flight.

I tried my best to apologize, though. The most genuine excuse to catch her attention was my early morning cup of tea. The next time she passed by, I again enquired, “can I have tea?” She apologized curtly, and said they are not serving tea. I asked, “coffee”? She again apologized and said “we are not serving hot beverages today morning”. Alas, my slippery mouth and dirty mind. I controlled but just muttered off, “serving hot for sure”. I think this was enough for her to “Sheikh her booty” hard and shoo off never to make eye contact any more. I too lost interest in her and moved on. 

So, I called for next best looking hostess. And simply ordered for water. Yes, this time I didn’t say a word extra. I just said, “I am thirsty”.

**********

Marathon Mind

Recently, I happened to read a very healthy (sic) discussion-turned-debate-turned-english essay on karma, dharma, fruit, cultural roots.

Empty mind, devil's stadium - my thoughts ran and ran till it could stand no longer, breathe no longer and think no longer. My mind and to top it empty! I made my thoughts run, wide and far. No tracks required. When I could not think of anything substantial, I went back to the drawing board; the same healthy and organic discussion on fruits and roots. And I was shocked! In my emptiness and overfilled thought trails, I had actually become a contributor to the script unfolding on the culture vulture page. I immediately withdrew myself from it. 

Just then, a new thought sprinted across my stadium. In withdrawing myself from a highly contextual topic, was I avoiding getting involved or was I ignoring the existence of a problem? Was I helping myself or actually alienating myself from reality to an extent that I am left alone laughing at myself? I was done and huffing under my nose. I had begun to react again to reality, when a new ray of thought shone on me. 

In any survey, debate and issue based discussion, why is it that the category of "I don't know", "may be", "I don't care", "it doesn't matter" and the likes always ridiculed? Why is it always necessary to take sides? Why do I have to be called a majority or a minority? 

What is so wrong about being ignorant? 

Marathon mind kept thinking. The new thought shouted, its not ignorance. Ignorance is when i knowingly do not show any interest to observe, learn, grow and contribute to the existence of a concept. With time, I loose sight. I fail to gain any knowledge, whatsoever. I have no clue about it. e.g. I am ignorant of golf. Or say, what do you call the car chase…. Yeah, F1. I just don’t get it. I did try to get a hang of these things. Just could not get it. So, left it at that. That is ignorance to me. 

But then, there is something which is different from ignorance. There are things which are highly relevant, very contextual. You are fully aware of the phenomenon and if need be, can actually be a part of the problem, if not the solution! But you choose to refrain. You decide to not participate. 

You avoid.

Most people mistake other people avoiding something as their ignorance. They assume silence as ignorance. And that’s where lies the juice of the matter. According to me, when people ignore, they ignore the topic. They are least bothered what’s good or bad in it. They are happy till the time it does not physically strain them. When people avoid, they do it on purpose. They take a judicious call not to get involved. They avoid the psychological strain. They don’t ignore the topic. 

They avoid the environment. They avoid the people involved. They avoid getting sucked into something which may make them react which is not their natural self. So, even in avoiding, they choose to be themselves. Anything wrong with that? I don’t think so. Till this point my mind was with me. I had successfully ignored the majority and avoided the minority. 

The race was still on. Now, I running behind my thoughts. My thoughts were running behind a cause. The stadium was still empty. I avoided the silent echo.

Cheers

K

16th June 2012

Translation from Diptesh Ghosh

Start (by Diptesh Ghosh)

With the first light of dawn I awoke.
The dew-laden road lay empty.
It meandered through the mountains
And I heard it call out to me.
Old October was already here,
The cold Northern wind was blowing,
The first leaves were breaking free
And winter was already on its wing.

It was so lovely that my heart ached,
I wanted to hope, wanted to stay,
There were tasks I had yet to do,
And hundreds of things left to say.
But the roots were cut long ago,
And autumn winds will shake the leaf,
The wanderlust wind now stirred in me,
And it did not allow for any grief.

I kept aside all the faint regrets,
The dark thoughts in my weary heart,
And set out alone, companionless,
For the empty road and a brand new start.

मेरा कल

सुबह की पहली किरण ने सहलाया मुझे 
पहाड़ों की ओस-सिली पख्दंदियों ने बुलाया मुझे 
सर्दियां दस्तक दे कर दरवाज़े पे संभल रही थी 
सूर्ख ठंडी हवा मेरे साथ चल रही थी

कुदरत की इतनी ज़ीनत है के चुभता है दिल 
पर अब यहाँ रुकना है मुश्किल 
कुछ इकरार करने थे, कुछ काम थे बाकी 
पर सूख गयी सुराही, रूठ गया मेरा साकी 

कशमकश है आज सर्द हवा और माजी की बारिश मे 
इजाज़त नहीं मुझे रोने की भी इस दिल की साजिश मे

दिल के किसी कोने मे ही रहने दिये सारे ज़ख्म 
सूखने छोड़ दिये हैं पुराने आब-ए-चश्म 
निकल आया हूँ उस दर्द की दलदल से 
आज मुलाक़ात होगी मेरी मेरे नए कल से

ishQ

12th June 2012

Unravel the Travel (part 2)

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” – Martin Buber

Another secret is, sometimes unintended and sometimes intentional sneaking into conversations that you pick while on travel. The most common, of course, is when people are talking on their handheld phones. My guess is, some of them actually want people to listen to their highly strategic and seemingly intelligent conversations with their office rookies. Some though, become oblivious to the fact that there are people around who may be hearing their highly confidential ideas and innovations and sometimes their deep, dark and hidden secrets.

Picking from where I so effortlessly diverted in part 1; my recent travel happened to be a 0600 hrs morning flight. Naturally, I was late. I cursed my luck, the cab guy, the security guard, the boarding-pass counter lady and anyone I could see or recollect in my mind. Moreso, the boarding-pass counter lady. So what I was late, she knew I was coming, right? My name was there on her list of passengers. She could not keep one window seat for me. Actually, forget window seat, I got the worst seat possible; aisle seat of the last row of seats. I knew at that moment I was going to have a very loo-usy trip. Five minutes into take off and I started hearing sounds of flush, continuously, for the next half an hour. But soon my stinky times were also flushed away. 

Lady luck shone one me. I should say, ladies!! The air hostesses came to my rescue. No, they didn’t change my seat. Once the initial formalities of the staff and then the usual morning chores of passengers were over, everyone settled down. The air hostesses went back to their waiting zone and settled too. And then they started talking! Initially, I was sleepy so was not really interested in their conversation. There was a small turbulence in the air and the subsequent announcement by the Captain took away my sleep. Slowly, their conversations started becoming more audible. Now, I made a real effort into eavesdropping.  Once, for a moment, I turned around casually to have a look at these lovely ladies. And that is when I realized that it’s not easy having all your meals of the day standing/sitting outside a loo. I started appreciating them a little more. But their conversation was hilarious!

From where I gave my concentration to it, one hostess was cursing her boss/shift supervisor who makes the schedule. Apparently, she has been on flights for the last 76 hours! The other exclaimed, “no wonder, you are having your brownie with sauce!” The first hostess sounded really pissed off and mentioned that she has already complained this to the Manager. Now, the Manager wanted some “extra stuff” from a city she was supposed to visit. She denied helping him. Manager denied helping her! She finally used the F word. Just then, one of the hostesses’ who had gone to serve a passenger returned and blurted the F word too! She just said one sentence, “why do I only get passengers who fly with their fly open?” Even I could not help laughing along with them. There were chuckles, when the third hostess started off against parents and relatives. Her parents want her to visit relatives in the city she lands after a flight schedule. Her worry was, “they expect gifts every time!” They think duty free means free gifts on duty!!” 

Sometimes, life can make you smile without a reason. I had no reason to listen to them. But I did. And I smiled. While getting down, I thanked them. Probably, for the first time, genuinely.

Cheers

K

Unravel the Travel (part 1)

(will be a travel trilogy after a great tryst with people on the move)

″A traveler without observation is a bird without wings.” – Moslih Eddin Saadi

I go a step further. I eavesdrop on conversations too! It not only helps me while away some waiting and travel time.  It also gives me a perspective about people, the world and life. Some are new perspectives. Many observations (and sneak peeks) change existing view points.  

Not that I travel too much. Infact, come to think of it, I had not travelled at all in the last 3-4 months. It was getting mundane. I was not getting new perspectives! Thank God for this wedding invite from a relative, tickets were booked. My family travelled ahead of me. I joined them a week later. (There are observations, sneak peeks and whispers on the pre-wedding, planned rituals and post-wedding camaraderie. More dope on it, once my travel hangover is over.)

One very common perception which people carry – one of the most glamorous jobs is that of an air hostess. Pretty uniforms to wear, beautiful destinations to roam, classy hotels to stay in and to top it all, a huge bank transfer at the month end just to look good and pretty! Well, Mr. Goyal “jetted” careers and Mr. Mallaya as a king, fished out a lot of talent, until “Air of India” started stinking, again. I carried this perception for a fairly long time. And then, I started observing.

You curse your luck for the 0600 am fight, curse the cab driver for coming late because you woke up late and then gave him wrong directions to your place, curse the security guard at the airport for stopping you which is his duty because you are late, curse the boarding pass counter lady for not keeping a window seat for you because you are late and curse the entire population at the security check in gates who are there to catch one of their 0600 am flights and cursing you as part of their late coming plan. Airline staff cannot be late, ever. There will be a guard, always. There will be someone at the counter to hand you your boarding pass, someone to keep your check in baggage, someone to securely check you in, always. There will always be a smiling air hostess welcoming you on the flight. An air hostess cannot be late.

Not to forget, the usual time that this air hostess would take after waking up to look that fresh, stunning and pretty at 0600 am, reach the airport and start smiling to welcome some ugliest of the people. The hostess would give instructions and then try her best to make the same persons understand repeatedly and again and again the importance of switch off mobile phones even after take-off, safety belts, keeping tray tables upright, straighten back rests, and not walk to the loo when “Your Captain” has already announced (slight or major) turbulence. Ofcourse, they have to control (s)lap worthy proposals with a smile from the arrogant and wealthy, avoid the (un)intentional elbow of the aisle seat friendly uncle or simple looking man sitting, sell and serve food, clean your trash and also come running to you because you don’t know which switch to press to switch on the reading light. And mind it, most of all the things she is responsible for, as observed, are performed at atleast 30000 feet above sea level.

If you can balance your body weight, mental state, verbal responses and the tray in your hand, while I observe you top to bottom; I think you are beautiful and deserve a sitting ovation while you tell me, “in case of emergency, there are four exits, two in the front……. “ .

Cheers

K

What to Suspect, when you are suspecting – Part 1

Not that I have started watching too many crime serials. (There are quite a few new ones on air. As it is, DSP Pradyuman will entertain our grand childrens’ family am sure!!). But talking to some people, it dawned on me that “suspecting” is more than intuition. Many a times, it is becomes a habit. I am no one to qualify it as good or bad. To start a thought with a pre-decided output in mind may not be the best way to start a thought provoking intuition.

In this short series, I shall try and point to my points of view of the various ways people do what they do. Finally, I may have a prescription to follow. But hey, I am no shrink. Infact, I shrink into a snail when thinking about my rowdy past and highly possible naughty future and being caught after a successful suspicion stint by someone close to me!!

During our growing up years, I always noticed kids complaining about their parents. They suspect their parents don’t love them enough. Parents suspect otherwise!! Kids complain parents don’t have enough time to spend with them. Parents complain the same. Kids complain they need support from parents when the entire world is against them. Parents have similar pains. God save the wrath of kids if they were sent to a hostel! First few months are a whiplash of tears, cries and curses to God. How could He send poor little kids to such parents’ home where they can’t even take care of a single kid and throw her/him in hostel dungeons? On the other hand, parents suspect their own decision! Keeping the kid in a day scholar at home versus sending to a hostel had its pros and cons. Reasons vary from better education and environment, better all round development, family tradition et all. Infact, some parents go beyond their means to give the kid a better up bringing. And yet, they keep suspecting. One sissy complaint by the kid and parents’ think tank starts shooting - Is the kid safe? Are the other kids from good back grounds? Is school taking care of her/his real needs? Do teachers understand what kids want?

Not that parents who have kids visiting day schools are any safer. Who all is the kid talking to, how is s/he being influenced, why did s/he come late today, I don’t trust this friend of her/his, there is some problem in her/his life? Kids at home suspect their parents are sabotaging their lives. Parents interfere too much in kids’ thoughts, decisions and needs. Dry comments like don’t go out now, come back by 7 pm, why, what and with whom do you talk so much on the phone, who dropped you today; are statements which are not unacceptable to kids. But all these carry genuinely suspicious connotations.

Now, to me, there is an element of surprise and shock.

I am surprised that irrespective of generation, location, culture and all other disinteresting demographics, how similar do kids and parents think? Whether a first world or third world country, whether it is a modern or conservation society, kids born in a marriage or out of wed lock, they all grow up disliking their parents, for some reason or the other.

What shocks me are the parents. They too grew up as kids, disliking their parents, murmuring under their breath and probably know exactly what is the kid thinking or feeling. And yet, they mess up.

I believe, as a kid, you should suspect what you observe.  As a parent, suspect your learning ability. How can you go wrong knowing all the way what’s the right way to deal with your kid?

Meaning beyond words

“mat pooch ke kya haal hai mera tere peeche // tu dekh ke kya rang tera mere aage…..”

“go haath ko jumbish nahi aakhon mae to dam hai // rehne do abhee saagar-o-meena mere aage….”

Do people remember all important events in their lives when they were, say 9-10 yr olds? Yes? No? May be? Who cares? I confess, I don’t! But relating events now after 2 decades, in this case, this is what would have happened.

Landline telephones and TV were still new phenomena. (I mention landline as we had not even heard of mobile phones). If your house did not have a TV, you wished for one. If your parents had bought one, you wished for a color TV. The few who had a color TV, wanted some “family time”. Half of your colony neighbors, including their maids and their semi finished domestic work could be found in your house, infront of your color TV.

The farthest flash back that I can go, the first funny yet gripping, light yet racy and simply irresistible serial that I remember is “Karamchand”. To me, Pankaj Kapoor is a legend. Those are the days when I was introduced to his body of legendary work. Kitty, played by Sushmita Mukherjee was equally remarkable and remembered till date. When news came that Pankaj Kapoor’s new serial will be on air soon, naturally the entire neighborhood was excited. The day the first episode was to be telecast; all were in attendance, lined up sitting in silence at least 10 minutes before the start time. Banjo played, violin played and then….. I was hypnotized. I was stoned. I was speechless, motionless and hopeless for a few scary moments. There came on screen, “Neem ka Ped”. There came Pankaj Kapoor’s name. There came….. I remember zilch. I was speechless as I didn’t know how to react, I was motionless as not only was it a crowded room with hardly any elbow space but also because this was unexpected and hopeless as I had no clue of what did the lines mean?

I guess, till the next 4-5 years of listening to “muh ki baat sunae har koi, dil ke dard ko jaane kaun….” I did not know the exact meaning of this casting song/ghazal, whatever it was, for Neem Ka Ped. May, I didn’t ask anyone, in fear, what if I didn’t like the meaning and hence stopped liking the voice! In fact, looking back now, I remember Pankaj Kapoor, I recollect “Neem ka Ped” only because of the voice which hit my ears. I would diligently watch the casting of episodes and then move onto other priorities in life at that time, making fun of my sister, poking my pet dog et all.

I remember my father mentioning something about it being a “ghazal” and some “Singh” being the singer. Was I interested? Was I supposed to be, at the age of below 10 years? I fear not. I did keep hearing this voice singing, “tumko dekha toh yeh khayaal aaya” and something like “….mera geet amar kar do” more than once. I think it was “Rangoli” and / or “Chitrahaar”. But the feel of “muh ki baat….” stuck on my mind. I don’t know, why? All I knew was, the moment I heard the voice, I felt light.

After a few years, while still in junior classes in residential school, a new second channel from Doordarshan was introduced. It was called “DD Metro”. Apparently, it was for metro cities only. (how we managed to watch it while not being in a metro city, but in a small hamlet off Mussoorie town, is a topic of a new write-up.) Some path breaking programs were aired on this channel, one being “Super-hit Muqabla”, a musical countdown program of top 10 or 20 songs of the week. One night, while the show was on and we were trying to peep for a glimpse of the TV through the crowd, I heard the same voice. I could not believe at first. How can he sing for a movie? The video had two very fresh faces -a smart young chap and a very bright smiled, pretty girl. I focused and heard consciously – “shaam se aankh mae name si hai, aaj phir aapki kami si hai”. It was the same voice and this time round I understood the meaning of the words, without asking anyone, the video helped comprehending. But what surprised me more was, I felt sad and yet, I felt light. He had made me a romantic.

I believe our real journey together began here. Jagjit Singh became my “guiding light” this very moment. I was spell bound by the feeling of “sad lightness” or “light sadness”. I don’t know how to put it, but Jagjit Singh gave me the meaning of “meaning beyond words”. He taught me to listen to what was not being said, read what was not written, understand what did not exist and look beyond what was visible. With Jagjit Singh’s voice travelling through my ears, I always felt light, in all senses. I felt lighter on my feet. I wasn’t flying, but I was floating. I felt lighter in my head. I was not intoxicated, but I felt “happy” even while listening to a sad song in his voice!

I am guessing, few (of the very few who are reading) have started thinking, how did I commit blasphemy and not mention “Mirza Ghalib” in a write up on Jagjit Singh?

Well, I have come to realize that a deadly combo, a heady mix of “desire, passion and access”; creates an “addiction”. And of these three, according to me, “access” makes all the difference. The more you desire for something and the less it becomes accessible to you, you tend to desire it more and become more passionate about it. Then, gradually, the more accessible it becomes, the more you get into habit. The more you get into habit, defines addiction. Mirza Asadullah Baig Khan, Jagmohan Singh and Sampooran Singh Kalra are my bar tenders of my cocktail of life.

Mirza gave birth to my desire to unravel the mysteries between the obviously stated and understated. Sampooran’s (Gulzar) passion to brew life into everything around – from the half burnt cigarette to the unreturned luggage and even the charred wood of yester night’s get together. Jagmohan (Jagjit Singh) became the bridge giving me access to this mesmerizing world of unrealistic pleasures of romance, death, life, lies and truth. If not for him, I am sure, even Mirza and Gulzar would have been as important to me as Stephen Hawking or Amartya Sen.

I remember him not as someone who was talented and a great artist with heavy, baritone, velvet smooth and honey dipped voice. I will remember him as someone who influenced my life without knowing what he was doing to me. He changed the way I think, the way I live.

To his talent and indescribable voice I can only think of my addiction, my heady mix and hum along,

“koi ummeed bar naheeN aatee // koi soorat nazar nahi aatee…”

“maut ka ek din mu'ayyan hai // neend kyon raat bhar nahi aatee?

[ mu'ayyan = definite ]

- ishQ (30th October 2011)