Chai Pani Aur Kahani

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  • real Virtual has becomes virtual Real

    Yes , it was  25th Nov 2007 was special day! a gr8 excitement from morning, since one of friend from social network (orkut) Mahesh had invited few of our net group active members for his Marriage.

    As he stays in US, he never met us before , but was knowing each one of us so well virtually (from our profiles and pics and activities) he invited us for his Marriage via messages,  scraps and e mail invitations! and we knew him also  virtually as a group member.

    When I just entered marriage hall,  he was busy in marriage rituals , but  when he had my eye contact he just smiled and waved his hand which I receprocated , that was the first time we saw each other in Real World and also could recognise!

    Though we were  of same community I could see some common relatives in the Marriage  hall , so I was bit comfertable in the crowd .  Later other friends ,from social network  , staying in Mumbai,   Nagesh , Abhi, Sameer and Ashwin joined , they  also met  Mahesh for the first time  ,

    We had snacks together with host Mahesh! no need for intro as we virtually knew each other well , just a shake hand and time went as if we were Real friends for long and as the main ceremony started , Mahesh was busy in marriage rituals , We had a group photo session with the Married couple and also had a nice lunch session.

    This is how real Virtual  has becomes virtual  Real

  • My World…

    She looked around. There was no one. She took a long breath, got out of her bed and proceeded to the washroom. As she looked at herself in the mirror this morning, a weary, hapless face stared back at her. The color had vanished, giving way to a pale complexion. Her hair was ruffled and eyes seemed to demand more sleep. Not because they were tired, but because they wanted to see what they wanted to, not the reality. As she splashed her face with cold water numerous thoughts ran through her mind. What now? How? Where to start from? Should I call…. And then the water stopped flowing. There was apparently water cut that day, which she didn’t know about. ‘Darn this!!’, she muttered and headed to the kitchen. As she walked through her bedroom and living room to the dining area, she sensed a feeling of alienation sink in. She was suddenly a stranger in her own house. Walls looked familiar, but only as familiar as a mannequin who wore the clothes after she designed them. The mannequin was not her own, the clothes were. She proceeded to make a cup of coffee for herself, mentally making a list of to-do things

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    for that day. Meet the Investigator at 11, visit the Insurance Office at 1, Lunch with her agent at 2, back to office by 4. Post a warm cup of coffee, she got ready to leave. It was 10.45 am when she reached the investigator’s office. She attended all her appointments as per the schedule and returned to office at 4.15 in the evening. It had been more than a month that she was following a similar routine. Investigations Bureau, Agent Meet, Office and back home.

    Stress was becoming visible in everything she did. In the last 33 years of her life, Nina had not been through anything like this before. She was a go-getter. And her motto in life was crisp – If have to, then have to. So much that she didn’t even spare herself of her wrath in case she missed a deadline, a brief, an order or an appointment.

    Everything was pretty much in place for Nina. Professionally and personally. Personally, Nina and Andrew were together for the past 8 years. And although she thoroughly enjoyed and cherished motherhood, marriage was not her cup of tea. And today, she had been thinking – If only Andrew and I were married….

    The funeral was scheduled for Thursday. Andrew was in Austria, attending a seminar and the earliest he could get to Los Angeles was Wednesday evening. Just a day more and he would be here, Nina thought. Thea was their only child. The seven years old was a bright fun-loving kid who loved to mime and read Disney comics. Ever since she had been introduced to Tinkerbell, she coaxed her parents to enroll her at the local ballet academy. She was ecstatic by the news of a sibling arriving soon and had started ‘designing’ games, herself, for them to play together.

    Nina’s was a perfect family; until 20 March 1998, exactly a month ago, when Thea was kidnapped while on her way back home from the academy. About 28 days later, Thea’s captors had strangulated her to death and dumped her body at Nina’s doorstep. Thea’s death was a huge blow to Nina, who was otherwise unaffected throughout the ordeal. Her tough demeanor filtered all emotions that had been playing around in her mind since the day of kidnap. It was only when she finally saw Thea that she broke down. Totally and completely.

    It was last night that she had made the decision of her life. She decided to give up her company and her career. She no longer felt the hunger for success. She no longer felt the drive for ambition. Only person who hovered was Andrew. And all she thought about was her home. Suddenly, she wanted to give up everything and warm up to the kitchen fires. She wanted a life; different from the one she had living till date. A life she thought could never imagine living. A life she thought was only for her docile sister. Today, she wanted to live that life henceforth. She wanted to live the mother, the wife and the home-maker she had never thought of living. And most importantly, she wanted to live the emotions that had been trapped within her. All the while she thought Elixir, her company, was all she wanted. But Thea’s death changed it all.

    And she remembered all the times that she missed Thea’s special moments. The first time Thea performed on stage –aged 3 years, the first time Thea won a race – aged 4 and a half years, the first time Thea mastered her ballet moves – aged 6 years and came running home to show it to her Ma and Pa and many more such first-times.

    She wanted to live those moments and more. And luckily, her unborn child gave her the hope that she definitely could.

    She wrapped her work by 6 in the evening that day and drove to Thea’s ballet academy. She informed them about Thea and requested them to stage a ballet performance post the funeral.

    She went about inviting Thea’s school mates for the performance and headed straight to the bakery to order Thea’s favorite Dutch Truffle. After coming home, the feeling of emptiness came back. She struggled to hold herself together.

    Nina went up to her bedroom and opened all the curtains to let the fresh air blow in. Still, she wasn’t able to get over with her suffocation. She could feel the excruciating pang of pain through the left side of her chest. She ran down to lawns, hoping to feel better… But it only got worse. Finally, she let herself go, and cried. Cried her heart out.

    She didn’t know when she fell asleep on the lawn but she sensed that it was the best sleep of her life. One which brought Thea to her. And one which brought her dream world to her – Andrew, Thea, Nina and their unborn child – all together, on the same lawn, living life as she wanted to. In her world.

    ,

  • The Mourning

    Being an anesthesiology resident in the Obstetrics and Gynecology OT
    at Nair Hospital was no mean job. There was the routine OT list, the
    emergencies and the cranky surgeons and sometimes even crazy seniors
    to handle. But the job has to be done, right and that too with a
    smile, and we did it.

    December 2009, while the routine OT is still on, we get a call,
    ‘Emergency Laparotomy for an unruptured ectopic gestation in the
    fallopian tube’ which means an emergency surgical exploration of a
    lady who had conceived, but unfortunately the fetus was outside the
    uterus in the fallopian tube. Fallopian tubes are the tubes which
    transport ovum or the embryo from the ovary to the uterus. I went to
    the waiting area to see this lady pre operatively. She looked
    distraught and strangely familiar. I could not place her, but she was
    familiar nonetheless. She was past 35 years, and had undergone a tubal
    recanalisation surgery few months ago. I noted down the rest of her
    medical history, did a quick physical examination and explained the
    surgery and anesthesia to her. She knew her baby could not be
    salvaged, being in a place where there is neither nutrition nor enough
    place for her baby to grow. The whole point of the surgery was to save
    her life, lest the tube rupture.

    After taking her consent I did something I had never done before, I
    asked her a question that was too personal– the reason why she had
    undergone a recanalisation surgery, or a surgery that involves
    reversal of a tubal ligation. The answer was obvious… she had
    undergone a tubal ligation which is, for all practical purposes, a
    permanent method of contraception. Then for some reason, she wanted to
    have a child again so late in her life. I was curious to know the
    reason.

    “I lost my son to brain cancer” she said with a few tears in her eyes.

    I was starting to figure out why I knew her…. still I persisted

    “Where was your son admitted and how long ago did he die?”

    “He was here, at the same hospital… He passed away last November”

    “His name was Aditya? I asked her to which she did not reply but
    broke down into tears instead. I did not pacify her, I broke down with
    her too into a

    discreet few tears.

    I remembered Aditya very well. He was a 10 year old boy operated for a
    malignant brain tumour and had died in the ICU a few months after the
    surgery. He had died while I was posted in the ICU and was on duty.
    And he was probably the only patient whose death and the suffering
    prior to that had affected me so deeply, probably because of his
    tender age. I remember having shed a few tears for him after seeing
    his grandmother break down once in the ICU. She was the one who mainly
    cared for him, with his sister and mother visiting on and off. While
    I cried for him when he lived, I somehow did not mourn his death when
    he died in my arms, in front of my eyes. And I mourned for him the day
    I met his mother once again, a year after his death.

    Being doctors who see death and suffering so often does make us tough
    but some incidents like these do break our tough outer layers and
    touch our hearts and make us cry.

    Disclaimer: The kid was not named Aditya. The name has been changed to
    protect the identity of the child and his family.

    ,

  • The Dirty Old Geyser

    Have you ever wondered what goes into a Storage Water Heater, or commonly known as a Geyser? I hadn’t… until I got to find out first hand recently.

    It was only a matter of getting the damn thing to work again and get some hot water like every other day. So at the beginning we knew it could only be one of 2 things. Either the thermostat (the thermometer like device that cuts off power when temperature reaches a set limit) or the heating coil itself would be faulty.

    We quickly eliminate the thermostat as the culprit since the circuit was not broken anywhere and both the lights were ON. So then, it had to be the coil. Great!! We now know what’s wrong. We also know what needs to be done. Should not be more than a 10 minute job to change the coil.

    Or so we thought…..

    Maybe this would be a good time to provide some background info on the “geyser”. Born about 8 – 9 years ago somewhere in the factory and named under the brand “Arman”, this geyser has served us well. It has undergone a few house shifting experiences and about 2 coil changes in this period. Not to mention that it has also had it’s belly cleaned once or twice, thanks to the borewell water used in it all it’s life.

    Now then, we got a coil from the maket. Good. The ratings match and so do the grooves for the bolts to hold it in place. Very Good!!

    Next step, remove the faulty coil:

    All that had to be done was to remove 3 nuts and voila – a shower of 20 L of water and the coil should be out. Only, the latter did not happen. Now there’s something else that needs to be known about the coil. The coil, like any other heating rod that is used to heat water, is just one rod going in a “U” to complete the circuit. It just so happens, that the old rod had gone from a U to a V. The rod goes through a small hole in the cylinder that contains the water and has just enough space to move in or out. With the U to V situation, the rod would just not come out.

    What do you do??

    You have to bring the damn thing down and open it all up, fit the new rod and put it back again. And pray that you fit it properly so the water does not leak and the geyser does not blow up.

    During this exercise (ofcourse, there was a “qualified” electrician working on it too) I found out what the insulating material is made of… Glass Fibres.

    Literally, fine fibres of glass put together. It looks just like a lot of cotton is stuffed in… but the damn thing is so sharp. Even a dust particle cuts and it stings for a day or two. I did feel like a bloody used pincushion. LITERALLY!!

    I have to say though, I now know what all goes into assembling a geyser and can take one apart and put it back together pretty well.

    Well, the 2 hour exercise paid off. The geyser now works just fine. Only, I don’t think it can survive another operation.

    Next break down…. May it rest in peace!!!

    ,

  • Esha’s noble audio story book project

    Esha – a Non Profit initiative serving the visually impaired, has embarked on a unique project that would revolutionize the way stories are told. More importantly, the project invites you to be a part of this noble initiative through your participation. Read more to know how you could make a difference by Story Telling through E-Books.

    About the Project:

    Esha plans to create a freely available online library of Audio Ebooks that will make some of the best stories of the world available not just to visually impaired children, but also to those sections that lack schooling and literacy. Audio Books will break these barriers to spread values and wisdom.

    Please contribute to this project by donating any audio books that you might have at home or with your organization and that are NOT under copyright. The idea is to create an online resource center from where all organizations, individuals and libraries can freely download books and use. The more we share, the more we all gain. Esha will buy additional server space and will host all these files.

    If you are an individual who wants to volunteer, please read detailed instructions on how to record audio books from the comfort of your home – here: https://eshabraille.wordpress.com/2010/05/14/esha-summer-project-for-children/ .

    Be a part of the change.

    ,

  • Even in this day and age??

    Strange – is probably what comes to your mind when you look at the title for this post. If this was just the subject on your mail and you had not yet opened it, you might even have wondered where this would lead.

    Something similar was going through my mind yesterday, sometime in the afternoon. I had gone in search of large AND visually pleasant box files with ring binder system for a document that had to be dispatched the same evening (by courier, mind you). When I say “document”, I mean a report of about 800 pages. Yes, that’s a large document to just up and send.

    Anyway, I had to meet the courier deadline of about 5.30 PM (for collection at office) and was still without the box file where all those nice colourful printed sheets lying on my table would go. I went to a Reliance “shop”, as I was told to, to look for these strangely unheard of items. It did not come as a very big surprise that they did not have these or the idea of what such things may be. You’d think that is the limit. For a pan India chain that claims to do everything on a larger-than-life scale, this humungous centrally airconditioned mall in the middle of Cunningham Road did not have much within. Ofcourse, they were able to cater to the other demands like movies, music etc.

    To top it all, no one there even had an idea where I’d be able to find one of these. Encouraging, I thought. One of the advantages of being a “local”, you know which part of town to go to find things. So I decided that the only place that will be any help is Avenue Road. (yeah, that’s right. Avenue and Road) Memories of childhood, school and college came flooding back. How we used to go here every year to buys books, stationary et al at more or less wholesale prices. My aunt used to chide my mother on how she was able to get a better deal for the books, thanks to her sharpened bargain skills. Then were those days of first year engineering when I’d bought second hand books (it was almost a crime to buy new ones, don’t know how it is now). Ofcourse, then I attended college at found even those second hand books to be a waste of time. Come to think of it, I was already saving paper, back in the nascent years of undergraduation.

    Enough digression and reminiscence, not to mention deviation, the point was that I was trying to get to Ave. Road by auto, if only I could persuade one of those of the fare race to take me. Turns out that none of them wants to go in that direction. You may have noticed that it’s pretty much within the CBD between the two places. Time – 5.15 PM.

    I was standing there, not losing hope. There are hundreds of these 3 wheeled blood sucking death machines going around the city, I’ll find one willing to – said I. Just then, I saw a hand wave at me, asking me to come over. It was a man on a 2 wheeler, completely unidentifiable with a large black egg for a head. I looked around, as to say ME?. The hand waves again. I walk over to the stranger, thinking that he probably wants to ask me some address. But then again, there are loads of these death drivers around and they’d be a better bet at knowing places than some random guy on the street. So then, why me?

    “Where you want to go?” comes a muffled voice from within the black egg. Why do you want to know? was the scream in my head, which I stifled. “Avenue Road” I told him warily. “Come, I’ll drop you off. I’m going that way” he says. I thought I didn’t hear him right. Was it possible that a complete stranger was offering to help some random guy on the street? Without any ulterior motive? This was not even a movie. Why would he do something like that?

    By now you have realised that I’m way too paranoid and the line of thought my mind chooses to such situations. But I have, till date, somehow managed to put a lid on such things and think objectively. Hence, I am.

    So there I am, running out of time, uncertain that what I want will be available off-the-shelf (yes, IT’S ONLY BOX FILE. But the reactions that the store keeper gave me put that thought in my head). I’m not able to find public transport to reach there within time and here’s this strange man offering to drop me, just cause he saw me asking a few of these death drivers. What do you do?

    Yes, Please!! is what you say and hop on. ‘Tis exactly what I did. So here I am, never taken or given a lift to anyone on the streed my whole life, riding pillion with some guy who offered to help. So I tell him that I’m in a hurry and have to send out a courier today and blah blah blah, to which he just nods his head. We get there within about 10 mins or so. I stop him, thank him and he just drives off. I was left impressed and, I have to admit, a bit envious that someone just did that and rode off. This seemingly selfless act (yes, hence the title of my blog) left me dumbfounded for a minute.

    I still wonder, why he would do that. Would I be able to do that? Will I ever just stop, not be paranoid, and help someone out in distress without making excuses of priority and enough-problems-of-my-own? I think I know the answer to these questions today. But 5 years down the line may be a different me, you can hope for it. Ummeed pe duniya jo tiki hai!!

    I did , however, manage to find the type of file I wanted, not in white unfortunately, and send off the courier. I then realised that the courier had cost enough to fly a person to Mumbai for submission. I am still not able to come to terms with the idea that such things still happen and such people are still around.

    Maybe I live too much with myself.

    , ,

  • Serendipity

    Sreethi leafed through the dictionary…S..Se… Ser… Sere..Serendipity :

    Serendipity is a propensity for making fortuitous discoveries while looking for something unrelated…

    Sometimes, the best of the best seem to evade you in all areas. This leaves you disappointed, disgusted and hapless. You start questioning every move and every one.

    Something very similar was happening with Sreethi. Sreethi had the best of everything as a child. Being the only child born to an illustrious after years of pleasing all possible deities, she was the apple of her family’s eye. After schooling, she went to the most prestigious college, Stella Maris, and excelled in everything – from academics to extra-curricular activities. Everything seemed to be perfect until about six months ago.

    One morning, Sreethi had an immense headache, nearly suffocating her due to the pain. Doctors were summoned. What followed was a fortnight of tests and ‘test’. All medical reports seem to be absolutely normal, but the headache was recurring. Someone suggested, an evil has cast its eye on her, do the x-y-z pooja and see how she gets well. So a week of all poojas followed. In vain. Sreethi, at first, was disturbed by the turn of events.

    She had just finished her graduation studies, cleared her GMAT with flying colours and had been admitted to a prestigious University for her MS in Finance. Nevertheless, she decided to go with the flow. While she was waiting for things to settle down on her health front, one day, her school scrap book tumbled down out of her cupboard. She was trying to find her yellow polka top when the scrap book came tumbling down. She picked up the scrap book. A rush of nostalgia ran through her conscious mind. She opened the first page; it said – For The World Most Special Friend.. You rock gurl, best friends for eva , Avani.. She turned the page. It said – Don’t miss our gossip sessions lady, just promise to catch up every month on the 10th, Ciao, Sweetu. She looked up at the calendar – it was 1st day of the month. She made a mental note of it and moved on to leaf through the scrap books. Ria, Pooja, Ashwin, Kartik, Neha, Siddharth.. She stopped at Siddharth’s page. It said – Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you.. See you at 21, truly, Sid. A warm rush of blood pulsated through her heart. Sid. The guy who was mesmerized with Sreethi since nursery. He wouldn’t leave Sreethi’s side through the nursery, kindergarten and school. But College was different. Sreethi chose Stella Maris, and Sid left for Mumbai. And today, after 5 years, Sreethi was reminded of the guy – Sid, who had made her feel weak in the knees, though she wasn’t able to decipher why. She closed the scrap book and reminded herself of the mental note she had made. She called Avani and decided on a get together. Avani – But,Sri, none of us met on 10th of every month, so why now suddenly? Do you think anyone would turn up?. Sri – Lets try na, I really want to meet all of them. Avani – Ok, let me try and contact as much of them as possible; you too try to get in touch with them.

    And so started a series of events focussing on the retrieval of latest contact numbers for Sreethi’s school gang. Orkut, Facebook, Google…. All proved to be of immense help. God Bless their founders, Sreethi muttered under her breath. All, but, Sid, had been contacted. After Sid moved to Mumbai, no one was able to stay in touch with him for long and so, after six months of him moving there, he was out of touch. It was already 7th, and Sreethi thought, I have to find Sid’s whereabouts. He has to make it for the get together.

    Google, Facebook and Orkut had collectively failed to locate Sid. Sreethi was at wits end trying to figure out ways to get in touch with him. Sreethi tried googling his name a few more times – Siddharth Yennemadi. In vain. ‘Sreethi, Dr.Rao’s appointment has been fixed at 4.30 this noon. Please make it on time. It is not good to arrive late for appointments dear’ – it was Sreethi’s mom reminding her of her Doctor’s appointment. Sreethi glanced at her watch. It was 3.30 already. She logged out of her Internet account and started getting ready for the appointment.

    Dr.Rao’s clinic was 15 mins drive from Sreethi’s residence. Sreethi reached his clinic ten minutes before the scheduled time and sat at the reception while waiting for her turn to go in. To the right of her seating, there was a pile of magazines. She picked up India This Day’s latest issue – Dantewada Massacre and CRPF. She opened the magazine and flitted through the pages. ‘Dantewada Massacre, how inhuman….’ she thought, and began reading the report. Impressive writ, she thought. And moved further down to read the name of journalist – Siddharth Y, Mumbai, it said. She read it again. Siddharth Y. A thought crossed her mind. Could it be Sid? The Sid? ‘Sreethi .. ‘, her name was called in for the appointment. She took the magazine with her and entered Dr.Rao’s cubicle. ‘Oh, you follow national news, that is nice’, ‘Oh no doctor, I was just waiting for my turn and thought of reading something in the meanwhile’ ..

    Once she was out of Dr.Rao’s clinic, Sreethi had her thoughts running. ‘Should I call up India This Day’s office and ask for Sid?’ She decided to give it a try and googled up India This Day’s Mumbai Office number. ‘Can you please connect me to Siddharth Y, the reporter please?’ , Sreethi requested as a telephone operator answered her call at their Mumbai office. ‘Sure Ma’am, May I know who is calling?’, ‘Sreethi from Chennai’. As Mozart played on the ear piece, Sreethi waited with bated breath to hear the voice on other end.

    ‘Hello, Siddharth here. Who is this?’, ‘Sreethi, from Chennai, are you from Sacred Hearts High School?’, ‘SREETHI!!!!! Wht a pleasant surprise ……!!!! ‘ And so started an hour of visiting nostalgia.

    When finally she hung up, ll events started coming back to her – GMAT, College Admissions and suddenly, headaches, doctors and the scrap book tumbling down… She said to herself – Serendipity is a propensity for making fortuitous discoveries while looking for something unrelated… and smiled for the rest of the day.

    ,
    ,

  • Ketaki Flowers from Deo for the Deo (God)

    Story dated August 2009 – Contributed by Pravin “Da” Kamath

    Since colleges and schools closed last week with the fear of swine flu, my son told me he want to go to Nagpur to my sister’s house. So booked tickets for him (17th -20th Aug 2009) and his cousin. My sis from Nagpur told me that they dont get ‘Kevda phool'( ketaki) {Pandanus (Pandanus odoratissimus L.)} and Supari flower ( Areca Palm or Betel-Nut Palm flower) easily at Nagpur. So she requested me to send along with them for their Ganapati. I sent 2 each with my son, after i bought them from Dadar and Matunga (In Mumbai)market.

    Yesterday (22nd Aug 2009) my sister received the flowers, and called me in the morning and remarked , ‘Have you seen those Kevda flowers, all were dried and some even rotten , leaves dried inside etc , that flower vendor has fooled you’ ( I had paid Rs70/- each), but Supari phool (was Areca Palm or Betel-Nut Pal Flower) seems to be ok”. I some how felt bad as it did not meet the purpose – my sister’s words kept ringing in my ears …..’For Ganapati I had sent ,and it was of no use and to be thrown down’…. So in order to arrange for a fresh Kevda flower I checked with my sister and others whether anybody is going to Nagpur from Mumbai etc. but was of no use. Sending with courier was not possible immediately. I made up mind , to send Kevda to Nagpur somehow, I prayed to Ganesh – “ only that you have to show me path to send Ketaki phool to Nagpur for you”. So I thought only option left for me is to send the Ketaki with Some passenger going to Nagpur very same day.

    So there I was on the platform at 7 pm where Vidharba train to Nagpur chugs off to Nagpur at 7.20 pm. I browsed through the crowd of would be passengers for Nagpur with whom I can send the Ketaki and pass on the contact/address to my sister at Nagpur (before that we checked the availability of ketaki phool at Dadar flower market) I was looking out for some college student or some elderly person or a person with family etc. Finally I saw a smart smiling elderly person standing alone with a bag , I went near him and asked when is train etc just to be friendly with him and then talked about ‘are you going to Nagpur etc’, we chated for some time then I told my problem , explained whole story in detail (about rotten flower , dried leaves etc) , so I requested him if he ready to carry ‘Ketaki flower’ so that I can buy one immediately and give it to him then my sister can pick from his home or from nagpur rly station (from cel no and address we could coordinate) As soon as he said ‘yes’ it was 7.10pm and 10 mins left for train to arrive, I ran to ‘Dadar flower Market dodging though crowd on rly bridge and bought the ‘Ketaki flower’ (Kevda) well packed to cover thorns on outer leaves and handed over to him just before train arrived, till that time my son was chatting with him and took his details and passed on to my sis by mobile phone. I thanked him ,for carrying it , in advance then I just Introduced myself by giving my visiting card and asked his intro he gave me his visiting card and to my surprise, it was written ‘…Deo’ , I looked up to him and said ‘mala kharokhar Deo Bhetle’( I really met Deo)( Deo= GOD in Marathi language) , …he was laughing !!

    Today (23rd Aug 2009 , Ganapati –Chowthi )Morning my sister called me and said .she got the ‘Ketaki flower’ sent by me from Deo’s house and it was very fresh and intact !!

    so Finally it Reached Ganesha! so I said …. Deo Pavla (Feeling Gods existance)

  • On Ground, Air and Sea – All in a day

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    It started one fine Monday morning, while most of “rest of the world” was asleep. The time was 4 AM. “Starting the week early” probably gets redefined by this. The taxi arrived on time, despite being booked online the previous night and a vague SMS confirming that my request had been logged was the only confirmation for this.

    The fact that I had gotten only about 8 hours of sleept (cumulatively) in the past 50 hours or so did not seem to matter. Confident that I will catch up on sleep on the way to the airport (which is quite a painful 43 Km from my house) which in itself is a journey before the journey. May this be called the Pre-journey, very much akin to Pre Board or Pre Heat or Pre cook?? (how easy it is to deviate).

    Anyway, the ride to the airport was smooth and fast, as fast the GPS system would allow the driver to go. Didn’t sleep. Then I decided, since I was booked on the Konnect series, that I will sleep for whole hour and half or so it takes to reach Mumbai from Bangalore. The line for the security check at 6 AM, and this is the brand new (does 1 year qualify) airport created since the old one was small and cramped, was more or less like the Great Wall of China folded and compacted in a small space. I really pity the “smart people” who carry large bags and not check them in to save time at baggage claim. One thing I found out, it would irritate the most patient of people to stand for such a long time AFTER the long queue for the check in. It seems that an hour before the flight at 6 AM is just not sufficient these days.

    I finally managed to get to the gate just about 10 mins before departure and slept like a baby. Well, almost literally. I only could not curl up due to lack of space. The Terminal 1C was like a breath of fresh air. Must say, GVK is doing quite a nice job of revamping the airport.

    After waiting for about an hour for another person who was flying in from Delhi (and whose flight was scheduled to arrive 10 mins before mine) we finally headed towards the launch. The reason we were in Mumbai was for what we call a Reconnaissance Survey (Recci in short) for a new project that is to come up (hopefully). This would connect 2 parts of the city that are suffering heavy traffic.

    You might have noticed the lack of mention of food till now. That is because there was none involved.

    We, now a large team of about 14, went to the jetty and boarded a boat. This was a rather mid size boat, a bit smaller than the ones you may have seen ferrying people across creeks in Mumbai. We set sail, amidst no fanfare, to travel against the tide to the other point in the city. (I apologize for the generic nature but cannot mention specifics until this project happens. So I earnestly hope that you will either have forgotten about this post by the time the project comes up or that I will be around to answer questions, if any).

    End of May is the period where the expectancy of monsoon begins (may not be the case for most of us, but for the maritime board at least). I was told that the Western waters of our country are more troubled than the ones on the East coast. I was also told that we were lucky to have gotten a “single hull” boat than a “double hull” as this would mean more stability and lesser probability of seasickness.

    The sea was quite calm for the first 15 mins or so and given my enthusiasm for experiences, I climbed up to the roof of the boat, where the professional videographer we had hired was filming as a requirement for the survey. It was getting quite hard to even stand without a strong support and we were moving around like toddlers, hanging on to whatever railing or other people around us. It felt good, I must admit, for the first 20 mins or so. I was taking pictures, helping people up and around the roof, quite the able bodied feeling.

    Then it started. The small uncomfortable feeling you can only experience on a boat. The want to go to a stable place and not move in 3 directions simultaneously. The sea seemed quite angry at us for entering into places we were not allowed (at least it seemed so at that time). The sun seemed to second her opinion and beat down on us harshly. The time was about 11.30 AM.

    I decided to go to the lower deck from the roof before I was unable to do so by myself. Ah, what a nice feeling it was to come down to the shelter of the shade. The wind here was cool, the upheaval not so violent and I felt much better. I had control once again.

    I sat down on one corner of the boat. Another 15 mins passed. Then it came again. That strike of seasickness that is absolutely cannot be reasoned with. The one good thing about being seasick on a boat is that you don’t have to run to find a suitable place every time there is an attack. You just have to find the edge and lean over. (I don’t mean go overboard contradictory to everyone eles’s opinion there).  It was like you see in Sci Fi movies when robotic tentacles appear from nowhere to hold a falling object and put it back where it was. I felt 2 pairs of hands appear out of nowhere and hold me from falling overboard (yes, they must have been cursed by a few if not all).

    Once I was done with the ordeal, I was told “Next time, call. We can’t have you fall off”. The first thought that hit me was “NEXT TIME?????” I don’t want to do this. I did not volunteer. It just happened.

    Despite all that, it relapsed. Twice. The “driver” asked me to just lie down and close my eyes and I would be fine. Magical words had never been spoken before. Indeed.

    Once we arrived on ground and my head was able to understand that we were stationary, I thanked the kind people who saved my life by holding me during my times of crisis.

    We rested just before lunch so that everyone would sync with being stationary and out of the sea. I, being the “worst affected” (their words, not mine) was the benchmark for everyone to feel better. YES, Me – a benchmark. For all the wrong reasons, but nonetheless, once in my life – a benchmark.

    We discussed the project and what would be required, the possible hindrances, future plans to be considered etc. This was probably the highlight of my day.  I was able to contribute well and my views were considered by people with lots of experience under their belt. Feels nice to be heard and responded to by someone who knows what they’re doing and have done it before.

    During and after a very nice lunch (I hadn’t eaten all this while, remember) everyone expressed their concern about my “health” (embaressing, yes) and departed wishing me to either take care or recover soon. (Did I just qualify for sick, literally??)

    I was dropped off at the airport and had over 2 hours for my flight (which I had initially thought was too early). It seems that I had even consumed a tablet on the boat, in a desparate bid to stop the sickness. And yes, I am aware that it takes a tablet about 3 hours to show any effect and I am one to avoid medication even during times of pain. What we do in times of desparation!

    This tablet began its effect – Drowsiness would be an understatement. I slept, uncomfortably, waiting for my flight to start boarding, confident that they would not leave without me (Did not really have an option, did I?) When I suddenly awoke, my flight had already started boarding and the line was diminishing. I rushed, only to find that the queue has moved from the gate to the flight and not inside. Relieved, you’d think. Frustrated, I was.

    I finally boarded the flight and nodded off even before the doors were closed. I woke up to a falling feeling and realised that we were landing back in Bangalore. I felt strangely refreshed. Never happened to me after a flight, that too one that had gotten delayed, that I felt refreshed.

    On my way home, wide awake now, I notice that the car was slowing down every minute or so and then back to speed. I asked the driver if there was anything wrong which was when he stopped the car and started to get out. When questioned, he said that he was sleepy!!! He’d been driving since the previous night. He washed his face and we were away, homebound. I did not want more trouble on the same day. So I kept my eye on him, asking him if he was alright everytime he seemed to slow down without reason.

    A turbulent sea and 2 flights had not killed me. I certainly didn’t want a cab, relatively close to home, to finish it for me (or finish me). The great gods had delivered me home, safe and sound.

    I only realised the next day that it was the medication that had induced so much sleep in me. I have now decided that I will beat the monster that is seasickness. I will return to the same turbulent waters, better prepared (and no, I don’t mean carrying paper bags. We don’t need them at sea 😉 ).

    I shall sea you again.

    …Contributed by : Nishanth Pai

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  • Management Lesson – Episode 1

    donkeyIn a village, a rich landlord owned an ass (a donkey). He used it for carrying articles from his house to the farm or from the market to his house whenever he had goods to be carried. It was an old ass though. Generally nobody likes an old ass, and the same was the case with this rich landlord in the village. He wanted a young ass (a donkey) and he was not happy with this old ass.

    The ass was on its way to eat something, when it fell into a well. The well was deep and the ass did not know the way to get out of the well. It starter braying. However the villagers and the landlord did not respond as nobody wanted an old ass. The more it brayed, the more it was ignored. The villagers were getting upset with all the braying and decided to bury and cover the ass. They began shoveling mud into the well. Even as the ass brayed, the villagers continued to pour more mud. After some time the ass observed that after every shovel of mud, it could climb up a little. It continued doing that. The villagers and the landlord thought that they were burying the ass, but actually it was coming up.

    Finally when the ass came out of the well, everybody was surprised. The landlord was not only surprised but also deeply impressed. He fell in love with his ass. He decided to keep the ass as he now thought that it was an intelligent ass. As he went near the ass to caress it, the ass turned around and gave him a big kick.

    Moral of the story: Do not cover your ass, it can come back to kick you.

    As heard while attending a talk on leadership held at Mumbai Stock Exchange. The talk was given by Sadhguru, founder of Isha Foundation.

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