Pursuit of Happiness

As a kid, I remember, all of us in the family used to go out together during puja or on special occasions. We would step out together, but after a while, my dad would be far ahead and my mom would be struggling from a distance. I used to take care to be with mom, so also my bros. I thought that happenned only in our family. But, alas, that's the symptom in most of the families, probably at that point of time.

That's the flashback for a nano-second this morning when I picked up a call from my couple of years' junior turned good friend from HCU. She happens to be the lone (lady) observer trying to set the record straight in the run up to the HCU election and has thus been going through a lot of stress. She was explaining the perspective of the majority of male students, how they were feeling "insecure" when they find somebody like her taking on everybody to restore the order. A veteran of all these things, I offered, "what sex has to do with knowledge!! Male ego should be wise enough to recognise a different perspective at least," she agreed being a girl who speaks her mind and loves doing what she does.

Like the study conducted recently by University of Vermont (http://www.business-standard.com/india/news/sunday-happiest-day-wednesdayworst-study/71773/on), I too agree that Sunday should be the happiest day for all of us. If in the morning I woke up to hear 'Li' thus adding to my satisfaction quotient, the second half I preffered to slip into the lap of nature. Satrenga, located 40 kms away, promising you forest, mountain & water, the perfect combination that can transport you close to eternity even for a short while. We clicked photographs, touched the same old rocks, got on to everything to forget our present. On return, we had garam pakoda & chai from a roadside bandi, only missing was a drop of rain.

KARnama

Four different organisations, three different places, in private, corporate & public sectors. Many learnings and even more experiences. If then Express editor Srimoy Kar was my first impression of a journalist divulging secrets of "eye-contact" as a necessary trait of a smart journalist, the latest in the series, again a Kar, the project head in the current profession, has many such tips to offer at the drop of a hat.

PPP : Passion, Patience & Perseverance
DNW-DTW : Do no wrong & don't tolerate (any) wrong.
SBI : Samajhdari, Bhagidari aur Imandari
If your intention is good, then the universe conspires in your favour.
Like Caesar's wife You should not only be above suspicion, you should be seen to be above suspicion....& it goes on.

But my all-time favourite, RK, whom I have looked up to many times without even knowing it, has left a significant impression. Like him, when I see a problem today I recognise it without shying away, admit it without any fear, share it without any shame, to stop it from mutating. He is the one who taught me how you should dare to call spade a spade and that's where my current profession/system sucks me.

I can't forget Monica either, my boss in D&B, Mumbai. Very few chaps can aspire to work with such a lovely lady. I quit in her absence and never cared to call her or even mail her again. When exactly I became so insensitive!! No guts, it was guilt feeling for leaving her so soon that she might not have thought (while recruiting me) in her wildest imagination.

Tail Piece : Love your profession and not the organisation, my dear!!

Centre Cannot Hold

Not long back, the five-year-old Prince of Kurukshetra fall into a pit, stayed there for over forty hours, making it a sort of national tragedy, apparently with the involvement both the Indian Armed Force and an army of news channels all-through the night. As the toddler was monitored by CCTV time to time and was finally rescued, even as people like me were glued to TV sets anticipating any change in the headline for the late-night edition, the entire nation heaved a sigh of relief.
It was a repetition of something similar last night. Many were pitching in with their sms-es for the India Has Got Talent (courtesy Colors TV) -fame Prince Dance Group of Orissa's Berhampur district. No regional barriers like the erstwhile Indian Idol or any other sms-based reality shows orchestrated on prime-time TV. For the group had to prove that India indeed has got talent and the India they were representing was not the Centre of a few, but it was rather the Periphery belonging to the most, including a bunch of daily-wage workers like them.
No professional training, but pure hard work. No guidance, but sheer discipline. No desire to reach the Maximum City, but a collective imagination to come out of the distress. It was indeed a Front Page story. But how many of them look beyond the Centre as long as it does not offer the guarranty of viewership/readership like either sex or sensex!!

A Call to dis-Honour

Oh, what an expulsion, quite in sync with his earlier book "A Call to Honour". The poster boy of Vajpayee-led NDA regime who had a great equation with Condy Rice, the then US Secretary of State, and had thus credited with giving a new dimension to Indo-US relationship, was sacked on a phone call by none other than Rajnath Singh, his much-junior party president who happens to act like more like a trader than a politician. His fault was he wrote on Jinnah, a straight defiance to the Sangh Parivar ideology. It reminds me of the day when Deepa Mehta's "Water" was banned for showing something that was treated a "taboo" till then. I am equally grieved for treating book writing a "taboo" even in 2009. Forget about BJP, I don't know in which way we are heading!! Why some people who use to boast of Hindutwa can't even understand the essence of Sanatana Dharma!! In a larger screen, for how long, we will continue with divisive politics!! As a political forum, when we'll try to listen to the mandate and correct ourselves!! Why can't people who matter can't understand that the essence of Power lies in knowing the limits of Power!! Why can't the Party With A Difference sit down and listen to the great song written by its great worrier: "Har nahi manunga, rar nahi thanunga, Kal ke kapal par likhta, mitata hun, Geet naya gata hun, geet naya gata hun."

15th August, Ampro Biscuit, & the 5th Anniversary

Celebrating 15th August today, for me, is more a kind of celebrating my survival. Once born, an intestinal problem (Conginental Megacolon) had almost jeopardised my childhood and had stolen the smile of my parents that they had to put in their everything to get their son admitted to AIIMS. May be, thats why I was more determined to face the second incident on 15th August 2004 all by myself. Then I felt proud remembering the once teenager in me who had failed to be accompanied by his schoolteacher dad to receive the Best Short Story writer (Kathaa) Award from the then CM in Bhubaneswar. The 18-year-old thus could not turn up. Then dad's contention was that his son should learn to stand up on his own.
As a schoolkid, celebrating 15th August was a wonderful experience. I still can't forget the flavour of garam bundi & jhuribhaja in a paper thola. I used to show both my hands and thus grab two packets of bundi while in queue. Many smart guys used to do that in our school. Later, when I was in Hyderabad, I along with other members of the Turning Point community used to go to a nearby sweet shop at WestMarredpally and enjoy bundi to cherish our fellow filling.
However, after joining this PSU, I got an opportunity to be part of a full-scale Independence Day function sans any bundi-jhuribhaja. Besides bundi, if I miss onething it is the pleasure of standing first in debate competitions used to be held on the occasion of Independence Day in school. I remember, when I was in Class II, I got "Ampro" biscuit packet of Rs 2 as first prize. That was my first (First) Prize for my first debate competition. My father used to prepare the content of my speech and would wake me up early in the dawn so that I could get it in my memory to deliver word by word. By the time, I reached High School, participants from other schools used to whisper if Ashutosh is there, better they need not participate in the debate.
As a kid, I remember, I used to create some slogans as part of "Pravat Pheri" on Independence Day function in my school and thus had been cautioned by our school PET. Then I was enlightened more by Subhas Bose and Bhagat Singh and thus believed in LK Advani-brand of politics. I remember that I came out to the street to welcome Mr Advani during his Rath Yatra, I was then in Class VII probably. Today, I find this brand of politics very disgusting though Advani has been mellowed over the years.
Living up to my 4-year-old practice, I called up Dr TDR and we shared pleasantries for both 15th August as well as 6th Anniversary of 15th August 2004. I spoke to my close buddies including the one who became a dear friend of mine post my admission to Yashoda. Later in the day, visit to a nearby spot of around 15 km distance, Jhora, with such natural beauty was really satisfying. Alas, even after two & half years, I never had explored this place!! If only I could capture some shots...and we drove back while the music was on in full volume and a few rain drops caressing the window of our car!!

Silence of the Lamb

I broke my silence only yesterday remembering my all-time great companion (the recent post, Remembering Something) that used to transport me into a train of thought. As a precursor to this, somebody had in fact reminded me the timing of my next post, while another somebody had sort of advised me to be more expressive. I too realise to have taken quite a long time to express here on this blog like I do in case of new people in my life. Posting on my blog, I believe, should come naturally like I take time to accept a person in my mental level before opening up like there's no tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I haven't reacted to many things that happned in not-so-personal front. Somebody asked me, if I am concerned about the latest "media flick", Swine Flu. I replied as if it was an irrelavant issue to me. But I did sympathise with Shiney Ahuja. Yet, I could not understand anything about Swayamvar of The Rakhi Sawant. Shiney Ahuja, Swine Flu and the Swayamvar (of Rakhi Sawant) may be talked about by a significant proportion of our generation, but for me, they represent the Superclass.

Remembering Something

For the past of couple of days, I am using my blanket while on bed. It is really a soothing experience to wake up from your slumber even while your tender blanket caressing your body. As a kid, I used to have negotiations with my brother for similar stuff. Then the condition for me would be not to alter my sleeping direction, i.e. not to put my legs on the face of my bro sleeping beside me, that I used to commit every night without fail.
Today, when I look back, I realise to have developed a peculiar symptom in place of that with regard to my sleeping ettequete, that I can't share my bed and nothing should touch me even while I am asleep. May be, that's one of the reasons why I hesitate going to my relatives.
However, I still miss my "rajai" (the soft blanket) provided by my parents when I left home after Class IX. I moved on in my life, changed places along with all the necessary stuff provided by my parents at that juncture. As a process, the "rajai" also landed in Mumbai along with me.
Last heard, it was with my one-time roomie who is now in Mumbai and was a victim of Mumbai's 26/11. That "rajai" was the only stuff that I didn't destroy even after 15th August 2004.
Those who have shared room with me at different stages of my life know the saga of this famous winter-wear. It was more a kind of emotional attachment to me. I remember to have given it a nice cotton-cover when I was in Hyderabad. I used to love its colour. It used to give me a feeling of eternity, a sensual obsession at times. Of late, it graduated from just an winter-wear to a daily requirement on bed. Then, Ashu minus its rajai was a sort of orphan, remember my fellow beings who were in the know of things. It has seen the evolution of a scared Ashutosh of Class X, the young aggressive struggling journalist, the shy ashu, the cool dude analyst, and the confident young man on the block. I have laughed and wept under it many times that my fellow beings might not have known.