Sachin's tweet timing

4,570,000. Well, that's the number of results which appear on Google when one types Sachin Tendulkar. As has been the phenomenon for some time now in this week, Sachin's twitter continues to score with deluge of followers. Initially, I was trying to figure out which one is his real account. Then finally got the one with a follower tag of 2,29,880 and still counting. Okay... this one. He has been following only 4 till now. How pity. It would be interesting to see whom he is going to follow as he moves on...


Another though. How open will he ever be or can be on twitter? I am just thinking that atul kasbekar's suggestion to open an account has worked good for Sachin in order to gauge his popularity on real time basis. A few moments ago I was chatting with a friend and said, I like people like you. Before even completing my sentence, he said.. I am not that Gr8. To which I said, I don't give appointments to great's like Sachin or Dhoni. I like people like me. In fact, seeing now the number of (oh it has gone up to 2,30,030) his followers, I am really appreciating my statement. I feel, he has done greatest disservice as lots of man hours will be lost. just calculate this bare minimum estimation -- no of followers x 1 minute x no of posts Sachin writes. Plus, time calculation for wishing him and replying to his posts not meant for all.


What's the point of becoming his follower (it's my blog and am supposed to air my opinion so Sachin's fans, like me, don't take it otherwise. Also, it is only now)? But for that I need not follow him. Will search his account once in a blue moon to find out whether his language tells me anything particular or not on the way he is reacting to twitter. That would be interesting. Twitter can be as unreal or strange as reality sometimes is. Just imagine. At a new kid in the block, he is replying people at 2 in the morning. People are staying awake to get his personalised response. I really want to see his consistency in twitter. He is God of Cricket, humans say. I have never seen God answering all our query ever. Some things are meant for not to be understood. I just wish him luck and let the freedom be with him in reality as he turns virtual. Hope he doesn't loose out his sanity with constant pressure on updating himself. Or else, he might just prove me wrong just like he has always done to his clinical critiques in the real world. 


2,30,587.... his followers now. that's crazy!

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.