Adda at Dristi-Kone

One of the things that people say about Kolkata is its unprofessionalism. To some extent I believe so as well with my dealings in some cases. But you still meet good people who understand and lend ears to you. I went to this ophthalmic optician nearby while my stay at Kolkata and got a session of learning. For long I was planning to a new pair for my eyes and coming here was not only relief to get a good deal but also turned out to be a nice adda with the shop. Stationed at first floor, not many people flood the shop. Also, I have not come across many opticians requesting customers to leave shoes outside before they enter their 'sanctum sanctorum'. A tradition we Indians follow religiously at home or temple. It rapped me instantly that this is going to be an interesting moment for me.

Talking about professionalism the shop enthralled me with its no-attitude attitude. It gave me a comfort zone with choices and my wish. They even gave minute details about Transition lenses which I enquired for, which I had contemplated before. My mom had prescribed me to meet Tapan for his unbiased suggestions and she was so true. A young guy that he is, Tapan shows a matured discipline and an uncharacteristic charm towards his profession. He likes to talk about lenses, science behind them and so on. We, in fact, carried on for over an hour or so disucssion about lenses and which works how.. etc.... and so engrossing was our discussion that it also ranged from people, their likings towards this subject to shipping orders even to US (for some Calcuttans who stay there). Interesting, isn’t it? I felt so. After a while, as I was selecting my own new pair frame, Abhik – the owner of the shop – joined in. He elaborated the history of shop and the reason for this unique and sweet name. Just like me he also feels that the name is trendy even today for an optician in spite of the fact that the same was chosen by his father a decade ago or so. That is Dristi-Kone (pronounced Drishti Kone). I even earned my share of flavoured black tea at the shop, as they offered the same to my mom. It is also fascinating to note that Abhik designs clothes for many Bengali celebrities. Quite a talent oriented shop, I must add here.

By the end of our discussion, I didn’t feel like just being one of their customers. I might have emptied my pocket for a possession, but gained much more than that. I have asked them to get themselves online or at least, begin a blog on it. Let customers like me get more to know from them and their experiences. They know their craft, love it and I don’t mind getting more out of their knowledge that benefits my understanding about a new subject altogether. The good thing is that they try to address the concern base on problem and not on revenue proposition. I hope they continue to remain like that; full of energy and interested about their subject. At the end of it, I doubt Delhi or Mumbai – city that breathes, eats and drinks professionalism – had given me such an enthralling discussion to remember or would have spent time with me without even thinking of my intention to purchase a pair or not. I simply don’t mind if Kolkata stays asleep as long as there are some good people around like them.

** Dristi-Kone can be reached at 033-25764136, CA-6, 1st floor, Deshbandhu Nagar, opposite Baguiati AC Market, Kolkata -700059

An unexpected journey

There were many expectations from this tour as it was to be my first journey to Goa. But the event I toured for turned out to be the dampener leaving most part of the trip a sad experience leaving aside the factor that there was not much scope to roam around and explore Goa locally as I would have liked. I went to Morgim to check out a property that was built some 20 meters away from the beach. The area was lovely no doubt. But to think of it differently it is the space or moment where we live makes way for our experiences, which we either like or not. So the place was not as important as the moment I actually wanted to be in was. Somehow, the former turned out to be a mindless party parade and nothing else. On the hind side, considering I am not a party freak is enough reason why I did not enjoy my experience being there. But doing a more critical examination, I hated the whole environment for a more critical reason.


The place – a resort – was merely a piece of land with some luxury tents, to say the least. It had a nice DJ cum bar set up. As the sun withdrew itself behind the western clouds by the end of the evening, saxophone and drums came to life at the venue. DJ took a full control and blonde heads showcasing their curvatures started gyrating to the beats. I could only see Brazilians, Russians and other westerners in large numbers pouring in throughout till nightfall and beyond. I just moved from one place to another to find a calm and relaxing environment. At a point of time, well built security guards encountered about my presence. Arrogantly, I replied – why don’t you ask the owner of this place; he asked us to cover the event and property. Contrary no questions were posed to entities of different colour to mine. I guess guards knew more about the culture than I did. Indians were outsiders. We were outnumbered. What followed were catwalks, no end boozing to needless frenzy of sorts that to me is definitely not charming. I am unable to explain what went through me. I just wanted to leave that moment. I just felt that something somewhere is completely unwarranted. The space offered for fashion, lifestyle and mindless space for footloose and merry making. That is what Goa as a preferred geography has been minimized to. I hardly saw gelling with other culture. It just aped. Reaching joy and happiness through this type of recklessness is indefinable and appears isolated. Yet people enjoy it. And this isolation is what is being looked at as a blessing. I tried to withdraw myself completely. My concept of isolation is different. The faint sound and light of this headless party (as it appeared to me from a distance where sea waves were touching my feet at the beach) still managed to reach me. I tried to distinguish their isolation from mine where I was listening to the sound of Morgim waves that painted a charm on me.

As the evening came to a close, I approached an artist painting a girl with wings (an angel) while having his Budweiser and Kingfisher. He drew bangles on her wrists. I asked: where exactly she is from? Her eyes look Europeans but her bangles confuse me! He smiled and explained that she represent this place where different cultures meet. Here, in Goa, beautiful ladies meet and tell you about life, which is to enjoy and be happy (through partying hard recklessly with coke, alcohol, smoke, etc…. I thought). But his note did leave me to ponder on my approach to perceive the event at Goa once again.

As I am recollecting my thoughts, the flight announcement has requested to switch off all electronic gadgets. We are approaching Delhi. As I am about to touch the ground, there is a belief that a bad chapter comes to a close but I will try to recall if there was something I can still manage to take back from Goa in niceties. I accept that our perception to embrace feelings gives us either the best or worst. Then, there is every reason to believe that there must be something… I will try to figure out and make myself feel that it was a trip worthwhile still.

Offline friendships

It is astonishing to see how needs of individuals vary. Friends are often on our chat list. If chatting is blocked at work, e-mail works. Add to it the orkut, linkedin, facebook and twitter. But do we really connect to people we chat online, I ask myself. Sometimes, we do. The fact is we can’t do without Internet and therefore have to resort to these online media to serve our purpose to remain connected to our dear ones. It is another topic that we have ‘dear ones’ in 1000s which in itself is inexplicable, I feel. So, I tend to find my online reach sometime exhaustive but also, hollow. I realize that people I chat with don’t connect in most cases. The communication actually dies down with time. Only our web presence remains.

Now when I look back a few years from now, I made friends who were not at all connected to Cyber Space. The reason: they were public servants with the Ministry of Home Affairs. Today I fondly remember Rakesh and Charan. Both came from different places (former – Alwar, latter – Dehradun) and got job at the same place and they decided to stay together, as we do during our first job outside our home city. They used to stay in my locality. Metro Rail, then, was still under construction so had to depend on the buses that used to start from our residential area. Every day travel connected me with them. It was a genuine relationship of belonging to a bus, locality and sharing a journey. Political discussions, music and a lot of Mirza Ghalib ghazals were our pass time. National daily ‘Hindu’ nurtured our day-to-day knowledge and understanding. I-pod was not there so Radio FM in our mobiles played a key bonding role, where we individually checked for the station playing the best song as per our likings. I fondly recall even today that Rakesh used to offer us gyaan about language – especially Urdu & Hindi, cultural changes the country is going through, civilization, what not… for having developed interests on these subjects and his consistent readings. I owe my understanding of little Urdu and liking for this language to him.

A few sessions of having tea near a roadside stall during monsoon drizzle during holidays ensured we enjoyed simplistic pleasure. Before going for a cup of tea, they would even tease me with hygiene issues as they knew I go to five star hotels for attending conferences and meetings. There used to be innumerous arguments on various subjects followed by thoughtful discussions. All are now just fond memories.

As time passed, both (little elder to me) of them got married and now nurturing their respective kids. They are no longer in Delhi. Rakesh stays at Jaipur and Charan in Dehradun as they asked for local postings. Both own flats in my colony compound. And therefore, there is a hope that they would return. We speak once in a blue moon and collectively, miss dearly the bygone days. Interestingly, I never missed them online. Not even today. They are still living perfectly in an age of cyber boom without a status of online presence. I feel they are far happier and self-contented than me by not getting caught in the jungle of information. They don’t feel any void of missing the virtual world as they live in the real one. I am happy that I am still connected with them, real-ly, and somewhere with the real world too.

Smile of hope

It was one busy day for me and had been cribbing about it within me since that morning. The day meant - travelling to too many places as I took my job too seriously having booked three meeting for a day one after another and at different parts of the city. That day now lays in the past for over a week or two, but something in particular has not allowed me to forget that morning and the resultant day afterwards. It was one of those inspiring instances that prepare you for the entire day and your march ahead for a struggle. I was in Saket, south of city, when I had to walk for mere 5 or 10 min to reach for my first venue for a meeting of that day.

As I was walking alongside the road avoiding the footpath, I came across a usual sight of a child pulling a rickshaw (this one with loads of mattresses and a person sleeping over it). As he was surpassing me, he asked for a direction to which I responded. It felt good.

He crossed me by a few steps and slowed down. Now I was almost walking neck-to-neck with him. He turned to me and smiled. Don’t know what made him share with me  his struggle but he said, “Abhi hum Yamuna paar se aa rahe hai.” I was shocked to hear that. The distance he has already travelled on that tri-cycle must have been more than 25 kms.

It was nothing new, as children like him survive like that with loads of hard work each day. His destination from Saket must have been around 10 kms further. I was shocked to the fact that he was smiling. That smile was unnerving. How can he afford to smile? Next thing I knew is that I was smiling too. I stopped cribbing about my hectic schedule - of facing a long day Delhi heat, trepidation of travelling within the city & braving its traffic and the pain associated to speaking to many people only for work - right away.

Now, whenever I am down and feel there is too much of pressure on me, I recall that kid without an identity but having a charming smile. Guess, everyone needs a source of inspiration and hope. I found mine for that particular day and may be, for many more days to come.

The culmination

Our interview ranged from one topic to another. In between out of nowhere the topic of his (hotelier) partner came about who passed away a few months back. I asked the question how it happened. Was it a natural one? He said it was an accident; hit and run to be precise. What! I exclaimed. Yes and the bad part is that it happened in the service lane just outside his house. None knows about who did it.

That was indeed a sad story. I told him that it appears even sadder because there was no reason for that to happen at least in a service lane considering Delhi’s driving sense on main roads. To that he said… well, my friend, death will take place when the time, place and reason all come in a perfect alignment (caressing his finger on his forehead horizontally). That’s why we sometimes say, miraculous escape! Don’t we? In that case, at least one aspect out of three will not be in the alignment with the other two.

His thought forced me to think over the issue again and again throughout the day. I am still thinking and don’t believe, I will ever come to terms with this thought. Yet, I will concede that that is perfectly true in all respect.

The imagery line

Have you ever considered how difficult it is to express something that exists just because we map it and nothing more than that? It is difficult to explain the significance of any such thing. I also bumped into something like that as we, as group of people, were moving towards Sanchi from Bhopal. As we traveled some 45 minutes from the capital city, our route guide (aka driver) suddenly braked. Before even asking him why, we knew our answer. There was this board that was etched with ‘Tropic of Cancer’… ‘Wow!’ we all chorused. It was an amazing sight upfront, which we never expected. Since it was unexpected, the sight became even more enticing and exciting. It was hot of end May, yet all bumped out of the car in a flash like a child coming out to enjoy first rain out of his home. Then, it was fascinating photo-op that took over the arid landscape…. the signboard of the kark rekha, we, devastating heat and the bright sunshine.

Now that I am back in Delhi, leaving back that significant line that traverses through the small village of Dewanganj, that should be 20 kms away from Bhopal, I was enthused by the desire to know whether there are any specific big town or city that falls on this imagery line. Though, another fellow rider had told me during that trip that Jabalpur and Nagpur do fall on this line. As I Google-d, Ujjain also figures under this. While Jabalpur falls on it, Nagpur falls short of it; the city is located below the line. By the way, The Tropic of Cancer is best described as lying at 23° 26′ 22″ north of the Equator.

It is amazing to find a discovery of human specie, that did not required brains as such. Yet, a commendable act to find the right location where the line needs to be imagined. This very feeling enthralled all of us. At least, coming close to it, I was. I am also happy for no reasons, as I experienced something not to be seen to say the least. It is just an imagination after all.... The only help is that the point of imagination is well marked. Next spot of imagination… don’t mind to imagine somewhere where a step upward or downward will make me either tilt north or south, respectively, of Earth. I mean Equator.

Co-existing with the dead

Standing beneath the clear night sky takes me to a different realm of reality. When I see the stars twinkling in all sizes, and sometimes with different aura as well, it is difficult to come to terms that many of them actually not existing. If we go by the theory of astro-physics, the twinkling lights, well most, seen today are generated millions of light years ago and reaching earth today. Effectively then, we are surviving with some which are non-existent today. But, we still are with them that defy our mental logic and yet true. Very similar, around us, we are all living with many bodies, working perfectly, which are completely dead. They are all humans of different kinds and we should constantly discount this fact to live sanely. That said the only thing we can take from them are some flashes of brilliance, which we need to imbibe, as everyone possess something or the other, that may not let them sparkle, but at least twinkle. For rest, I can look up in the sky, when it is clear and twinkling, anyway.

Perfect Timepass

Mr Ankur Bhatia, a new entrant in my chat list, popped up a line in between which was a real good one. He said, "We all are at some point of time in our life…" The liner was not a mere philosophical one. I was quite surprised to get such a liner from a young chap so early in his working days. The consequence of that shock evoked me to query him further for that liner…

According to him, no matter whatever we do and feel happy or sad about at a given point of time, the situation is always ironical to us and cent percent true. It is that paradigm that never shifts. We were talking about being methodical in our approach and he came up with that liner. He felt, that we both are actually talking about different times, which eventually lead us to a result that is same. I added onto his by saying that that point is always the present; there's neither past to it nor future, to which he smilingly (courtesy a smiley) acknowledged. In our mind, our life is always messed up and there is always scope to make it simpler, he said. From one of his favourite films - Gulaal, he quoted: "Iss mulk ne har shaqs ko jo kaam tha saaunpa, har shaqs ne uss kaam ki maa…. chiss jala ke chhor dii.."

Then we went overboard... he said: maachis jalane ka scope bhi hamesha hota hai na... to which I replied, par maachis se mashaal tak ka safar adhura reh jata hai. He reverted by another wonderful liner which is a perfect metaphor for our current political scenario and the undying urge to change it. “haan raaste mein hi bujh jaati hai maachis,” he concluded, restricting our drifting minds to come back to the present… i.e. work. It was working hours still.

Companionship

I was taking an evening walk this weekend. While approaching my residence lane, from a distance, I noticed two figures almost “not” walking. As I started approaching them, the figures became apparent and I could see this lady holding her husband’s hand. Both of them were old, above 65 years of age, and the husband needed a help of a walker for support and draw strength to move. Further, he was taking baby steps to walk the blocks, which revealed to me about his ill health. Yet, seeing that the lady is holding his hand gave me a sense of achievement. Achievement? Yes, achievement, because my heart was filled with soft sensation and happiness to see a married couple sharing the pain. As I was about to cross them, the man stopped and just nodded in order to take a brief stoppage. I crossed and soon reached the turn of the road. I turned back. I saw that her hand is still intact on his’. They started to walk again. The lady seemed to me relentless, patient; that’s companionship. I had to take this turn. I took the turn. But my outlook towards a selfless companionship had turned making me realize what it truly means. That was true companionship.

A toast for our Democracy

A week back or so, Dr Manmohan Singh, our learned PM, opined that independent candidates actually cut down the chances of the rightful party (or candidate) to come in power by cutting into the vote share. According to him, even if such a candidate (independent) wins it doesn’t serve the purpose in the larger perspective to represent public opinion. This means that the winning independent candidate(s) will anyway be sitting on the opposition (without voice to be heard) lest he or she (or they) joins a coalition that forms the government. I feel, by commenting so, Dr Manmohan Singh has ashamed us all considering high profile position in the government and more so in our democracy. Now, my respect for him has suffered a dent. I hope I am right in understanding PM’s rhetoric in this subject, but I will leave room for Congress Party spokespersons to correct my understanding of Mr PM’s objective of saying so.

Yet, when I see people on the other side of the voting system for whom we vote say that we need to come into the system if we really want to better it, I find Mr PM’s opinion as a contradictory one. Now, if I need to enter the system I am asked to have a full time commitment and not fight election by taking sabbatical. Also, we need to join parties that are nationalist in approach (representation) and not just emerge as independents in the ocean of candidatures. So, whom shall I vote for? For a party (or a candidate) who rubbishes the idea of this very democratic process, which evokes a feeling to be counted amongst others ------ OR ------ the ones, who might win but would not be the voice they are meant to be in the crowd of 545?

The question remains… as after the musical chair of seat sharing in various states, I stand clueless which party represents whose ideology and whom I will be voting for as the next Prime Minister? Nothing compares to India’s Democracy and its crazy idiosyncrasies intertwined within to put our life into total… well, it’s anyone’s guess! After all, we are going to make a choice. Whether it turns out for India’s larger benefit or not, would be seen in the next four years; fifth year, obviously, going to be a better one than the previous four, to pave path for another four years, I reckon. I raise a toast to this entire process… will you join me?

Discount your travel

Recently, I visited Thailand. A land of smiles, as it is known, turned out to be exactly the one. But my surprise was something exploratory and cannot be found in the city guide books. I was in the Capital - Bangkok - and had some fraternity colleagues with me for a media trip. We were checking out the street fashion, food and what not. Thai people are supposedly a smiling lot and I got a proof of it instantly on the first day, as our unplanned excursion of city started in the early hours of the day, as we landed before other delegates who were expected to join us in the afternoon. So we made sure to use our time by checking out the town in our own possible way with no guidance at all. While my accomplices were checking out some stuff, from a distance a tuktuk driver smiled at me and nodded his head. He was asking through his body language whether I needed him i.e. the tuktuk service. I just smiled, shook my head in admission that I don’t really need so. But somehow, he came over and parked his colourful tuktuk right in front of us near the pavement we were in.

After having a brief photo session with the colourful tuktuk we hardly get to see in Indian roads… we three started a deliberation on whether to go somewhere on it to spend the time we had on our hands. One suggested about “Reclining Buddha” that is popular for its beliefs and is little far from the spot we were standing i.e. near Dusit Thani hotel. Starting the conversation, the young bloke started deliberating to take his services by picking up the word “Buddha”. Wat Po, the spot we would need to go to see it, was at a distance and he offered us a deal of 40 Baht for a return journey. Not matter what we knew the fact the deal could go either way: good, bad or ugly, with only choice on our hands to make it better good, less bad or nominally ugly. So we bargained for a returned trip in half the price he quoted. To our utmost surprise, he agreed!

But with a condition, he said. According to him, we would need to stop at 2-3 shops during each way for few moments and check out stuff. We replied in an affirmative. On our journey, the shops we stopped by were elite ones and that ensured that our will to buy went for a toss. They were pricey. After making excursions for two shops on our way to Wat Po, the driver became friendly and told us that each visit by us fetches him coupons from the shops which is exchanged for free gasoline. During our return, we had become experts in entering a shop and coming out with no qualms that we did not purchase anything. We had bargained for a deal that was mutually enticing. I had taken his name, his registration and mobile number in case I needed his service once again in the city. Now, I don’t want to share his identity because doing so on Internet might have negative repercussions on him. I want him to carry on smiling as he used to do with his own understanding of English language, which made sure that I speak to him with no articles, grammar, difficult words, in my sentences. That was like -- “I go Wat Po back 20 Baht I pay you. Ok!?”

The bargain factor with tuktuk might be known to many but was a completely new experience for me. In India, we do have taxis doing the same in Agra by making us visit cottage emporiums, etc. But the scenario is not to an extent where three wheelers are doing the same in a city. This is probably because Bangkok stands as a shoppers’ paradise and depend a lot on tourism whereas India does not. I learnt a good way to discount my travel. A taxi drive would have pinched me.

Lesson for a teacher

It was an incident that taught me that we can never show our prowess over weak or subservient. Here, weak or subservient people could be juniors, people without authority or for that matter, could be even accounted for politeness.

During December last year, I had this outstation assignment in hand for a hotel association seminar meeting. So I traveled from Delhi to Agra (the venue) and back the very same day by road. During my onward journey, my fraternity colleague P Krishna Kumar from a rival publication joined in that also ensured that we did not face boring hours of road journey without companionship, that too starting early in the morning. When we were entering the eternal city, Krishna requested if we could stop for some moments to buy some “Panchi Petha” that is famous there. The driver of the car was aware of the best spot and took us right there. Krishna bought enough for a week and told me that that was for his wife who has a sweet tooth.

We reached the venue in time and got ahead with our work. By evening, when it was time to leave, we were told by the organizers to board a different car and also take a professor from a renowned hotel management institute in Greater Noida i.e. FHRAI Institute of Hospitality Management, along with. We were more than happy to have him with us, because we both had an extended discussion with that very person during the seminar we came to cover.

The professor joined in. He dealt in HR – human resource i.e. everything to do with human relationship that is vital to understand to keep an organization going. As he was boarding the car, the request came in from him that he needs to collect luggage from a hotel 15 min from there. So, the car moved in that direction right away. On reaching his hotel, he checked out from his room and settled his bills.

Meanwhile, we both were waiting in the car. Suddenly, Krishna started searching his bag. “What happened,” I queried. He had left his pethas in the car we came by to Agra. I asked him to call the driver of that car (he had his no). Krishna figured out that the car is still there and will leave in half an hour for Jaipur. By this time, Professor Saab got in and asked the driver “chalo Dilli”. Krishna requested him if we could go back to the venue and collect his sweetmeats. But this request was met with an arrogant reply that we have to again go back to the city which will delay us for Delhi. We were taken aback by that impolite reply, but Krishna was okay. I was shocked with that reply from a person who teaches HR. I did not pitch in because I felt that would have been inappropriate. The backward journey started on a sour note. When we were about to reach Mathura with the exhaust flames of Mathura refinery burning bright, Professor hurried the driver to stop the car at once. He started frisking himself.

Surprise! Surprise!!

He recollected the fact that he left one jacket in his hotel wardrobe with his home keys in its pocket. We started persuading him to carry on and call the hotel guy to courier the entire thing(s) to his Noida residence. We were not realistic in suggesting him that (because his family was not there in Noida and had gone on a vacation) but were enjoying sadistic pleasure on the episode.

Next step, the car took a U - turn. There was pin drop silence in the car. I wrote – “15 min of jrny to venue hotel wud ve delayed us. Now wat?” and showed it to Krishna who was sitting next to me behind driver and the professor. He just meekly smiled. We reached Delhi may be 4-5 hours late where the driver had to tell his boss that car tyres got punctured on its way back. On reaching Delhi the professor said to us: “We shall meet soon. It was nice meeting you.” We were speechless with plastic smiles on our faces.

Recently, a few days back, while I was cleaning my desk and sorting the visiting cards… I found him. It was more of an anguish I still carry for that person. In retrospect, I was angry with myself as well, because I could not say a word to defend Krishna’s request that day in Agra. But one thing is sure – someone taught that &%*$$@# professor a lesson. I don’t mind that it was on our expense – the time we both wasted.

Now, I don’t have his contact with me. The pieces of his torn visiting card are no more in my workstation dustbin. What about you, Krishna?

Emotional blackmail

As if I was not thinking enough of friendship and relationships, another sms landed on my cell raising a critical issue between responding to a message and living up for a thought that defines me. The problem is my stance would eventually reflect on the relationship between the sender and the receiver of the message, in positive or negative. How serious it is difficult to ascertain, as this cannot be ascertained at all. Certain issues are useless to ponder on but need to be tackled deftly; why, even I don't know, but we definitely need to.

Like many people, my Valentines Day went away in sorting pending works. But the very next day i.e. today, I received an sms on World’s Best Friend week (I never knew this fact). Here it goes..

“Do you know the relation between your 2 eyes? They blink together, move together, cry together, see things together & sleep together. Though they never see each other, friendship should be just like that. Life is hell without friends. It is World’s Best Friend Week. Send this to all your good friends. Even me, if I am one of them. See how many you get back. If you get more than 7, then you are really great and loveable friend to those 7 and more. Have a gr8 weekend.”

A pretty long 1 4 a msg in ‘short messaging service’ age. It split me in two minds immediately… whether to reply or not. The fact that emotional sms-es are a marketing gimmick is well known; for sure, the strategy to sell emotions by Hutch using the AirTel(ephone) has turned out to be a big money minting Idea for all telecom service providers. But the fact is should we respect the sender for a forwarded message or use our own discretion to reply or not. Had it been a simple (and original) sms asking me about my life, wats hpnin types.. I would have responded without a blink. But these sms-es tend to take away the underlying feeling in the message. E-mails can be deleted and there is always a reason that we missed the mail as it might have gone into spam, but wat abt n sms. Thinking a lot, I succumbed and did respond: “A frnd wudnt even need an sms 2 read other’s mind! But I do thnk u 4 counting me in n so goes my reply: sms assured tht we stand together. Cheers!!” Also, I did not forward the message to any and broke the chain reaction.

I humbly accept the fact that these sms-es don’t make me happy at all, where I am made a scapegoat to compulsively reply n that too in a good and casual gesture. And this very premise appears little hollow if we are talking of emotions. Where is the feeling if we are doing it for the reasoning stated? The issue is my left and right brains keep on fighting constantly with each other; one which understands the feelings of others wants to respond and the other one rubbishes the very fact and demands a practical, ‘hold your fort’ kind of approach. I don’t know the feeling with which it was sent to me by the friend but personally, I still feel that these kinds of messages can be done without. In appreciating someone’s effort or feeling (when asked) we sometimes compromise with self. Is this right or wrong nobody cares. I know one thing that these sms-es force me to part away from real me most of the time and the fear of ‘what he / she must be feeling’ lingers if I don’t reply.

My Nokia model saves limited messages. A few days later, this big message from my dear friend will definitely be assassinated to make room for a new similar one… the 360° theory will come to haunt me and I will try to be myself again; though suspect that I will be failing unflinchingly in the very second moment. This is purely emotional blackmail.

Sorrows, Misery, Happy

I received a message late at night a few days back that read --

"There are no greater sorrows than to recall in misery, the times, when we were happy…"

That line has somehow struck a cord with me. Sorrows increase, as many spiritual gurus would say, because we attach ourselves to relationships. Also, when a person goes through a change and adds up new sets of people in his or her life, many associated with that person are insecure about their existing relationship with the same and its imminent future. Skepticism is that once a new relationship blossom like in the case of a marriage, both parties involved need to sacrifice little bit their older linkages to give something to the new relationship (remember theory of Physics: energy can’t be lost; an equation is always balanced). When my dear friend recently got married, I somehow felt that people are either genuinely concerned about him or pretended to be very close to him. Any sane mind would detest the latter one… according to me they should be left alone for space to absorb the moments. Yet, at the very moment, with every new relationship making room for it, a few strings of old relationships gets stretched. If not taken care of those, they end up being broken up. We just need to be careful about those issues, where giving space to someone also demands a comfort of assurance that we are always there for the relationship we stand and care for. It stands very true for friendships, as we tend to make friends faster than any other form of relationships. Ummhh.. please don’t count acquaintances and professional colleagues as friends, as many don’t ably distinguish between friends, and the latter two mentioned here. It's little tricky, emotionally or practically, in which-so-ever way one thinks of.

Coming back to Taniya’s sms, the reason for coming up with that statement, she said… it is not hers; probably written by Gurudeb. “I had written in one of the pages of my diary years back probably during school days or so. It was an expression of mine for what was happening around me,” she told me. According to her, going back to old days and remembering the pain we had gone through, brings back the same memories again as we recall the episode(s).

I disagreed and said, “That should probably give you confidence that you overcame the difficult times that appeared not breach able then.” Therefore, I try to reach the ground when I am on a high in any relationship. So that, even during misery, if I fail to keep it at bay, I only recall the strong ground I held to give me that cushion of comfort and happiness. It is complex to understand what I might be trying to say and presented it simply… wish I could know, why Gurudeb wrote that line which is so simple and true to the core, yet needs to be perceived differently to know the crux of reality and our involvement in relationships, which are seldom simple to comprehend.

A stock of laughter

“You are getting hooked finally,” I keep on telling him. Ankur Das, my school friend for long, is finally going to be tested to the ultimate. His characteristic uncontrollable & needless laughter is expected to be controlled by sudden change in his marital status. I and some of our common friends are going to pray for him…. do you know why, read on…

Throughout his life journey, since childhood as I have followed, Ankur would be carefree and love to spread happiness all around, inadvertently. Even now, he is always a reason to see life in a different way altogether. Different from the way we commonly see. He just gives me enough reasons to know that laugh can bring around thousand smiles, which need not be intentional at all… just like that. Critically examining me, I find that I succumb to various pressures of life that snatch away my smiles, leave alone laughters. But he talks useless to me many times, which is thoroughly enjoyable. At times, I take a long pause to allow him laugh through and then, we continue again from where we had left our talk earlier. He is always at ease and comfortable with his persona and keeps on with his laughters. He makes perfect sense why one should laugh all the time (needless to say, he in no way takes his priorities for granted) and assure others that life is fine at the end of anything and everything.

I, for sure, think that his soon-to-be soul mate cannot be like him in nature. I just pray to God to have some mercy on her to take all the laughter in good spirit that she is going to experience from hereon soon. And let Him also have mercy on my dear friend Ankur so that he continues to be what has remained till now --- a stock of endless laughter.

Wish you the best buddy for a very happy and cheerful marital journey with incessant shots of laughter therein. You are just a phone call away when my stock of laughter ceases to exist and demands a recharge. On that note, I just raise a toast to my noble thought. Cheers!

Language for perception

"Sir, when tiger wants to tell that I am here, he marks by stretching and marking on the tree. Also, jab dusra tiger iske ilake mein aata hai to, it comes to know that bigger tiger is here. It is his territory. Jo jitna ucha marking karta hai, usi ka dab-d-ba rehta hai."

This is what the guide had to say about the claw marks by a tiger on a tree trunk in his tooti-fhooti english language to my acquaintance.

It was a case of our Bandhavgarh National Park safari early this year. During the safari tour, my acquaintance, a middle aged fellow, was not ready to accept his theory. "Everybody has heard about tigers' urine spraying act as a way to mark their respective territories and sharpening of claws. But, he seems confused. I doubt if he is to be believed on this theory. He is just trying to make a story, " he said.

A lot of speculation went on the subject after returning to hotel but we were still waiting for the right answer, which is cent per cent true. We thought, on reaching back to Delhi, there is every reason to google the confusion. But the answer came a lot quicker than we predicted. On our return journey, we bumped into a person returning from the same destination, who happens to work with another safari hotel retreat in Bandhavgarh (in MP). He possessed a lot of knowledge about the flora and fauna of this park. In his unique style, eloquent english, he made us understand the reasoning behind the claw marks apart from the reasons for sharpening them. He, truly, made us believe his reasoning, which appeared correct and logical.

He had the same thing to say what that semi-literate guide in the park told us. Tigers stretch a great level and try to make marks of their claws on a tree trunk as high as possible to send a clear message that this zone belongs to a strong male. "Can you match my strength and physique?" The discussion continued and we talked a lot about the animal and its behaviour in the wild. My acquaintance now believes the theory that the guide had to say.

The two cases of understanding a single subject taught me how our perception is so much dependent on language and the mannerisms a person use while speaking and explaining something to others. Use sophisticated english language - the logic appears hip, righteous and reasonable. Use Hindi language or less purfied English, the argument seems illogical to us, imperfect at times and something, not be believed at all. Seems, believing something depends on our will to accept reasonings. I only want people to forget the way a reasoning is being put forward to (for a brief moment) to comprehend reality, rightly.