Love at first sight

30 Years of Existence,Countless Movies,Relationships could not make me understand the concept of love at first sight where the protagonist looks at the the flame of his life and almost immediately is mesmerized with overwhelming feeling of love which pours out of him like a overflowing drain of emotions. I always wondered that perhaps am not the the chosen one to experience this unique feeling of LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT............ UNTIL THE DAY 9/9/9

I find myself in a small room surrounded by machines hovering around small cots and making eerie noise. I was lead to a small cot by a woman clad in green overcoat....... and to my amazement and joy i saw a very tiny head, torso,legs,hands ... I was looking at my SON IN FLESH AND BLOOD..... IMMEDIATELY I WAS IN LOVE WITH THIS FRAIL LOOKING CHARACTER..... IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

Even as I was gazing at my son i realized that something was wrong, my son was born premature and was having respiratory distress. My focus shifted to the grunting noise the baby was making in an effort to suck air and stay afloat.

The doctor told me that he had to be given life saving medicine and put on a ventilator, my heart sank. I wanted give my lungs to my son to ease his pain. I felt all the air sucked of of my system, felt as if i was living the pain of my son. The next two days were very critical we prayed and with the grace of god the champion came out of the ventilator, then cpap, followed by the incubator to Meghna's Lap in the room after a battle lasting more than 20 Days.

Meghna was a real source of strength during this hard time, she was ever so confident, as if she had some kind of direct connection with the supreme who was telling her that all would be good

This little one has taught me a few important lessons in life

We are all second to the will of god, Having faith in the all mighty even in times of distress
Patience
Value of human life and the way we lead it, the way we treat fellow humans
All that parents do to raise us, the pain they suffer when kids go rabid

Last and the most important to give something back to the society, to do something for others who are less fortunate than us.


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT HAS COME WITH LOT OF LEARNINGS

The Saga of a Village boy and Urban Jungle ------- Its hot

The sun has assumed its highest position on the equator it seems; and raining its most deadly blows on mother earth with no where to hide it tries to hide itself in the camouflage of brown that is strewn across its face.

On a sultry afternoon of April 2 2006 ,an Indica is burning the tracks of NH8 and heading towards jaipur. A closer look at the occupant shows a frail looking man who seems to be a bag of mixed emotions; sad, anxious,restless,hopeful of a future ahead in a city where the most prominent sight besides hawa mahal were the hoardings of Vasundhara raje, who perhaps was so in love with a mirror that whenever she was travelling around the city she found a novel idea to substitute a mirror.

The car has obtained its top speed of 70 Kmph and has just passed the milestone which states"Rajasthan", suddenly the occupant feels that it is raining. But difference being; not the clouds but the eyes are leaking.

The sojourn stops the next day at Basanti Niwas, it was a guest house that was serving the part of a make shift office cum residence. The frail looking village boy climbs the stairs to reach the first floor office, it was a big hall with 3 tables and chairs strewn across the room like orphan kids lying completely unattended

Behind one such table was a man who welcomed his buddy amidst constant ringing of his phone which had a flute like ring tone. In between tea was served by a guy whose name was paddu, later on the same guy was called a TAGLINE "Paddu my friend" by this village boy.

The protagonist is sitting on the sofa sipping his tea and then suddenly he feels nervous energy walking inside the room. A lady walks and starts pulling people for their joining papers etc etc. her voice seems thunderous but the way she smiles does not actually gel with her thunderous ways.

The village boy was always in awe of things larger than life and celebrities in a radio station were the rj's. He was wide eyed for this gang and then finally his wait had borne fruit. He saw a group of 5-7 people who had entered and were looking at everybody from an angle, on which gravity it seemed had no pull... god somebody please hold them or else they would be pulled towards the vastness of the outer space with nothing to fill them cause space has vacuum, god forbid what would happen to these guys in vacuum, cause they dont need O2 But something else to fill their lungs.

The group was lead by two girls, one of them was wearing big round earings which Kind of followed her face to her cheek, the room was filled with shouts of churi and chamar. The village boy suddenly becomes very conscious of what he was wearing as the entire gang, it seemd was dressed to make a statement. Both the girls tiptoe on the village boy and it seems they are not impressed, saw the buddy man step in and say something to both the chicks, probably the advise was not to get too loud about their feelings.

The first night at basanti niwas was extended and there was a mini get-together of the new residents on the terrace. It was a full moon light, in between the drinking and the ragging sessions that were being conducted one of the girls it seems felt that the village boy is getting uncomfortable with the discussions of style, actors, restaurants,pubs,eating joints,discos etc etc.

She joins him on the other side of the terrace where he had found his nest away from the discussions of the higher order,later on this woman was named PD

Friday, was the most anticipated day not because of a weekend but because of a long night at b2b"The Place to Be". Intially the village guy had fun , taking this new experience,showing off his own unique dancing style which was unmatched(it seemed like a snake was trying to climb a mountain, the guys hands and legs used to assume different polio like postures which would have even shocked a qualified surgeon) but sooner than later the whole euphoria weaned off and then it became a burden. But there was no saying no to it because the buddy man wanted everyone to dance to the tune of B2B.

b2b then took the shape of an observatory and the village guy became its astronomer, perched on the first floor he used to look at all the dancing stars in their glory. It seems ironical but is true that such a loud place could became a joint for the village boy to concentrate, focus his energies, observe people,get into a meditative state of mind.

There were a few people who danced looking at the way others were dancing, few people never danced but just moved their pelvic in a suggestive way to perhaps seduce the saree clad aunty they had got to the floor, few couples didnt dance but appeared to be making out on the dance floor(White shirt woman, a regular always seen in a white shirt).

And then they were sometimes a set of four eyes commenting upon the happennings and the word that was coined for it

One of the most notable observation was that on popular songs almost everyone on the floor danced in the same way, this really confused the ill informed village boy,cause he thought that music is a unique experience that has different filters for everyone. So how is it possible that everybody moves their body in the same way on a particular song.

Later on he understood that it is not the response of the body to the music which should be unique for everyone but the right way shown by the actor who had featured in the song.

The Learning" Program your self". This was perhaps the reason why buddy man insisted on everybody participating in the "friday's Mahakumbh"

But alas the village man was not able to grasp this learning. The key to survival in an urban jungle is programming, condition your self around your bosses,society, do what is the practice and not what is right.

Make your self larger than life cause ITS HOTT

Hair Colour

I enter " Sunny Hair Saloon" and am greeted with a warm smile by a man sunny who possibly has lot to thank me on account of me being his only customer during his initial learning phase when he had started assisting his father in their shop. I remember the guy used to stand on a small stool to reach my head or his "University of learning" with trembling hands he used to ask me what cut do i want and a programmed reply was always forwarded to him" chota kar de"

That was then now the guy has become a veteran of sorts and that stool and trembling hands have been replaced with dexterity and confidence. During my last visit to his shop in the middle of all clatter and clop and usual rounds of questions he asks me something which he had never asked before" Sahab Hair Colour kar doon". This statement had a magical effect on me as instead of answering him, i felt profound powers of concentration bestowed upon me by some power unknown and i stare at the mirror in front . I feel my eyes moving out of my body and placed over my head for a better view. I see spectacular strands of grey and white peppered over a black sowing field. Satisfied with what i see my eyes slowly move back into position and the mind takes over from there.


Questions Galore,
Have i not earned each strand of grey?
Is it not a symbol of my victory against odds?
Is it not a prize for gaining experience and looking at life from close quarters?


Sunny was still waiting for my reply which he though was odd cause a simple yes or a no should not take time. I answered to his disappointment that he would have to make with just an hair cut. I could not fathom the idea of not showing off my victory trophies . After all trophies are supposed to be shown off in the living room and my head is the living room of my body and no amount of advertising of Godrej, Garnier would make me do away with it.


I look around and see a couple of people getting the hair dyed or coloured as it is now called ,not to look down upon anyone but generally trying to find a reason to it, has this got to do something with our society where exterior is more important than interior or is it a case of pseudo macho ism. .The shop assumes the shape a car workshop where "Age Dents" are being coloured off .
How we look, and what people should look, has become so important that whether we do it cause we want to or just because we like to be seen that ways has become a big question.

BIGG BOSS- A Reflection Of Our Changing Society and Group Dynamics

The house resounds with the voice of debojit" Yeh hai Bigg Boss Ka Ghar, Yeh Hai Bigg Bogg KA Ghar". A closer look at the inmates shows their individuality and contrasting nature of their personalities but beyond all the contrast lies a deep similarity which is entrenched with deception,lies, misinterpretation, misrepresentation,impression management which is a common ground for one and all alike.

The question which lifts its head like a sapling out of a flower pot; is this a new reflection of our changing society where in the pursuit of goal the means are forgotten. Is this a fallout of our high pressure existence that is often self imposed. The destination is more important than the journey and with the realisation that success would only come if it is covered under wraps of deception and lies like a layered parantha which is often regarded as tasty as its layers.

Bigg Boss and Organisational Group dynamics

If we take Bigg boss as a classic example of a group in an organisational setting. It poses serious questions to a line manager. The classical line mangers have been taught a few basic organisational principles like setting goals, directing efforts towards goals, Staffing, coordinating, Review etc etc..... These were the responsibilities and well execution made a manager worthy of an appraisal but changing times call for a different skill to be acquired in addition to the ones mentioned. The ability to spot Lies/misrepresentation in a way to be effective a manger has to apply himself like a judge in the court to seek the facts as they are and not as they are projected.

But what about those poor souls who are not apt in the skill of deception cause i really don’t know if one could make it big in the old fashioned way i.e. doing your job in the best possible manner. The changing society has affected our psychology and subsequent actions but then there are people who have been not able to evolve would they face extinction or is there still a glimmer of hope. I have been searching for this answer for long Hope i get the answer before the answer catches me off guard.

A Funny Equation between Sales & Sex

This was way back in the year 2001; 5th oct t0 be precise that i was shaken out of the confines of my lazy college slumber and planted in a workpace setting. I have vivid rememberance of my interview which was short and sweet starting with the usual"Tell me something about yourself" extending to my assignments and later culminating into a statement that you have to wait for the next round. Eureka was the word for me as i was siting in the reception on a sofa which was eclipsed by my own sense of excitement and a large desk beyond which i could see a frail woman who was constantly beaming her smile admidst constant ringing of the phone followed by an answer which seemed taped in her mind" Welcome to Naukri.com". Later I came to know this woman as Sudha.

I was taken upstairs to the second floor; seemed both my dreams and the body were taking a flight on the stairs of my alma mater. In between i saw a huge wall with the most amazing graffiti
and beyond that wall a cabin with a man whose face was hiding behind the screen of an open laptop. A few quick questions and then a firm handshake with the statement i had been dying to hear" Welcome onboard". I felt like a marooned sailor who gets picked by a ship so in way welcome onboard was like welcome to the shore.

The Confusion & Realisation

I came to know later that to reach the shore i had to take a trecherous journey pass the sales cycles and pipelines or PAAPLINES as i used to call them much to the dismay of my boss.
She actually did everything she could to transform me into a good old sales guy, who is as one ought to be.

But i somehow could not fall in line to become a true blooded sales guy who is extra polite with phone manners and so frequent with the line" Yes Tell Me". On the contrary i was a rebel of sort passing loose statements like " Sales is shit"

But it was only recently while sitting with a glass of whisky in my hand at a friends place for a party i realised that " Sales is not shit but Sex"

The terrace is jampacked with people swaying to the beats of 50 cent and Akon next to me i see a bunch of young guys in shimmering shirts which glow with the neon; and their eyes which are constantly zerod on the main gate on a stakeout.

Ladies enter in a trickle and in bunchs but i see no movement except for their eyes as they let them pass. Then all of a sudden the gang leaps into action as if they were locking on to their probable hitlist. I see the guys the bunch of three guys on the dance floor each talking to 2-3 girls seperately.

Fresh from a sales training program which i recently undertook at the Mirchi office, I start thinking is this not "SPANCO" one of the most basic sales training format and the one in vogue at Mirchi

• Suspecting(S)- The guys on the Stakeout
• Prospecting(P)- The guys identifying the sets of targets
• Approach-(A)- The guys on the dance floor
• Negotiation(N)- Each guy trying to win over the potential target
• Closure-(C)- A few guys managed to dance with their target
• Order(O)- We Could leave it for imagination

The point which is to drive is that sales as a function is not science and we dont have to unneccesarily complicate it cause it is as simple as we want to keep it and as complex as we might try to make it appear.
So did i mean that sales is as natural as shit or the realisation came afterwards is a question as good as me being in sales.

What is greater "Flag or the Sacrifice"

This seems to be akin to the chicken and the hen story ie the debate between the former and later. I have been pondering over this question for long and though that probably its time to rise out of my slumber like the proverbial Khumbkaran and seek some answers.
Our motherland is considered a symbol of our pride,prestige and our nationalistic sentiments. From our nursery standard we are made to memorize the song though swiltering heat or artic cold"Jhanda Uncha Rahe hamara" then why is that when a high profile Political dignitary leaves for his heavenly abode we have to draw our flag at half-mast and some sort of national mourning for a couple of days is declared
If we happen to switch on out television sets during this time we often come across the statement that "The half-mast flag is a symbol of a nation mourning the death of the individual". But are we not demeaning the sacrifice of the soul who probably throughout his entire life though of the Flag as something which was secondary to none. It is often said that the nation is saluting the departed soul... well if we consider our country as our mother i have not come across any instances in ancient or modern histroy where a mother has to bow to a son.

There could be another dimension to it which is deep rooted in our modern mental make-up which regards "Rewards and Sacrifice" as two inseperable siamese twins and our zest for a reward prevails over our lifeless body and the act of drawing the flag at half-mast is a reward for the sacrifice undertaken. The weight of our expectations is carried on till our death-bed where all we need is the ground to carry the weight of our body and not our expectations

Flag Vs Sacrifice

This seems to be akin to the chicken and the hen story ie the debate between the former and later