The Missing Ingredient

New Delhi has scarcely succeeded in bothering the analytical musty corner of my brain. Something must be wrong with musty; Delhi has inspired many a writer, poet, painter, conqueror, diplomat, statesman and businessman to try the untried and reach the unfathomable. College students, I remember you too. But, I never liked college much, so I remembered to forget you. Oh, so New Delhi this time focused its cacophony and disorderliness towards me. It was a seminar, maybe a lecture; I think it was a conference, to discuss ‘leadership’.
Wow! I thought. Not another one! Ever since I fell prey to the worldly trap of following a ‘profession’ that I may or may not profess, just to earn money, just to be one of everyone else, who were also prey to the same trap, ‘leadership’ had been introduced, induced, taught, re-taught, revised and engrained... everything short of forcing the centuries old rules down my throat with a toilet pump. Then the enlightened masters would look at you with a tired smile, a bent back, drooping shoulders, drawn and dull eyes and say ‘lead from the front, lead by example’. Pride and happiness would overwhelm, pride of having learnt the importance and the art of ‘leading by example’ and happiness of the ordeal being over. The uninspiring man at the street who decided to run the traffic light was repulsive, how could he ever lead from front or by example I thought; such losers. His Honda CR-V was impressive though.
Next day I wanted to receive the ‘lead from front, lead by example’ professor myself. He drove in. His Honda CR-V was not impressive anymore. I wanted to take over the stage myself that day. Civic sense needed more emphasis than leadership in our nation, I thought. Then I saw the newspaper, the suave girl next to me was holding. She seemed perfect, beautiful hair, big green eyes, a nice business suit, tall and slim, lovely hands. The hands then went inside the newspaper and out came a local ‘deep-old-oil-fried’ snack and flew straight down her food pipe. The perfection vanished sooner than it had dawned. Civic sense was a bridge still too far. The newspaper bag landed at my shoes. People who had better civic sense would crumple it at least. But the littering looked better if left un-crumpled. Some political leaders had been arrested by the police for embezzlement of public funds, murder, sabotage and extortion; the newspaper said. The names of the leaders were smudged with stale oil. Their statements were still oil free... “even Mahatma Gandhi went to jail many times”. “Leaders do not demand respect or following, they earn these with their inspirational presence and actions”, Mr. Honda CR-V was ranting away. What a waste of eloquence. Leadership for sure was smudged with oil.
After the enlightening two day seminar on leadership, the undiscovered leader within me arose from slumber, and landed at Cha-bar. Cha-bar happens to be my favorite hang-out place at New Delhi. Sorry to disappoint, but it’s a coffee house-cum-book store in Westminister’s building at Barakhamba Road. The hunt began. Next four days were lost in searching everything available on leadership in the book store. At the end of day two, Tina, the owner, had realized my agony and led me straight to the section marked ‘Leadership’. I immediately asked her for the section marked ‘Common Sense’, there was none. She smiled the perfect smile, lovely black hair, a beautiful pink dress... I didn’t want to notice more. I had become wary of oil soiled newspaper bags.
The leadership section was resplendent with all variety of leaderships. Spiritual, political, emotional, corporate, military... Tina was happy. She knew this meant lot of business for her; like always. I wasn’t, I was nearly broke. New Delhi has that effect on people. Next couple of days, hence, were spent having every variety of iced tea and cold coffee Cha-bar could offer and going through the astoundingly unimaginative, un-inspirational and de-motivating prose I had encountered. Tina didn’t mind my reading the books and not buying them. ‘Being a leader is boring’, was my first inference. If learning about the process was such a drag, how could anyone fathom its implementation? I was already shedding tears of sympathy for the millions on whom these principles would be applied; I think experimented. These lowly worker class employees, the scum of the earth, were like guinea pigs on whom the researchers; their managers and leaders, would carry out trials of leadership, using formulae formulated immediately after the big bang millenniums ago.
People had thought of everything about leadership. Right from motivation, leading by example, leading by hanging the carrot of ‘success’ on the stick of meeting deadlines and delivering the targets. Leadership was losing its charm in a jiffy and so was the motivation to meet goal for ‘leaders’. The book failed to inspire. It was promptly thrown back from where it emerged. Another iced tea rekindled the curiosity. ‘Spiritual Leadership’, I thought the novelty would keep my mind engaged. Lessons from the Bhagvad Gita, where lord Krishna motivated or inspired or talked the unwilling Pandav prince Arjun into fighting a battle were intoxicating. Lead by awakening the sense of ‘non-doership’, of karma, of faith in the highest power, of just being an instrument of the universal will. The concept was admirable, intriguing as well. I could imagine being the perfect leader. Of leading everyone I was expected to lead, to unscaled heights of glory and selflessness, to the ever so evasive goal where they would sacrifice themselves for the organizational good. It happened! There I was, inspiring my team to stand and deliver, because they were just God’s instruments of manifesting what needed to be manifested. Motivating them to hold on, push on, when nothing in them was left, except the will to hold on and push on. “Coffee?”, Tina woke me up. The leader and the led dissolved. The rich, enterprising and beautiful book store owner had just asked me out on a date! Who had the time for leadership, I thought. I hadn’t finished rubbing my eyes, the coffee was there. Some date!! Just a shop owner doing business. Spiritual leadership was not my cup of coffee..tea, either.
I should have been reading a book on dating. There were many. Leadership won with a small mental struggle though. Why can’t we ever think from our hearts? Mind was a better leader, so leadership was the winner. ‘Practical Leadership’. This was it. I love practical. The two hundred page gibberish had a twenty word gist. “Suck up to the right guy, crush the competition and be a star manipulator so that your slightest inch forward seemed a greater leadership miracle than this creation itself.” Great! I thought. Down the sewage drain went my aspirations to assimilate leadership. If one had to strangulate ones conscience and fool the world and ones team into thinking that you are successful and a follow-able leader, the book would have replaced the Bible as the most sacred around. The despicable Americans, I thought. The author turned out to be an Indian. Hail America!
‘Rommel : Desert Leader’. Ah! How dumb I had been. Of course, what other than military leadership could be profound? They had taught the world the concept of leading men, to victories, to triumph, to death. The book managed to dilate my pupils. But was Rommel’s success an effect of his leadership or was his leadership a result of his success? I scratched my head. I needed a haircut. I was looking for lessons I could use. There were too many, too confusing, too verbose, too unconvincing. If I had to win the respect of the command, it was still not a guarantee that they would follow every direction, what was the need to ‘enforce’ discipline and obedience if respect was already won? Is leadership just about commanding respect or just about ‘enforcing’ compliance or both? How can I enforce compliance? Isn’t it ironic? Where did I pick up this book from? It was replaced irrespective.
My mind went numb. Too much reading for one day it had been. The exotic cars speeding into the dusk on the road were a pleasant change from static black letters on white pages. I knew for sure, leadership was boring and being led was worse. I kept gazing out of the fifth floor windows. The sight was monotonous. All kinds of vehicles speeding to a traffic signal, then waiting for it to turn green; then speeding again to the next one. I didn’t move a muscle for an hour. I don’t remember what went through my mind in that one hour. But I was awake, watching the traffic.
Day four was no longer fun or curiosity. It was a tired man’s stubbornness to find answers to unknown questions. Tina was on leave. That didn’t help. Some more leadership books flew from under my eyes. There were numerous methods and approaches that were discussed. These boiled down to either exploiting the ambitions of promotions, better pay or better reports to motivate the work force. The carrot and stick approach where you pat the back of one who ignores his personal life, health and his kids to work like a bulldozer and boot the ones who chose to go easy for reasons whose merit could never be greater than meeting the deadlines. The healthy competition nonsense, where you pitch different players against each other to meet deadlines and deliver the goods. Invariably this ends up in filthy politics and waste of energy and time. As such, the novelty of the game wears off too soon. Management gurus had also cooked up a theory where establishing a personal rapport with the led could rare them to go. Some thought that making them identify with a higher common goal could also give them the drive to deliver. Leading with an iron fist as in most armed forces was autocracy by my standards not leadership. Day four was over.
Even before having gone through this monumental mountain of words, I had had the opportunity to apply many of these, age old principles. Some, I applied after my Cha-bar adventure. But there was one commonality in all these approaches, principles or methods; none of them were effective. They failed because this was 2010, I couldn’t superimpose five hundred year old templates on today’s work force. The work force which is so much more aware, so much more ambitious, so much more vibrant with eagerness to contribute meaningfully, so much more immune to emotions that inspiring them is like putting life in machines. We are so much more goal oriented, so much more lazy, and so much more dependant on technology that human values and spirit to win have scanty influence over us. We are so much more monetarily oriented, so much more materialistic than older generations. This was something that was realized but comprehended in an erroneous manner. The interpretation of all these changes was simple, ‘Huge pay’. It works most places. But this is not leadership, it’s a bribe. What works?
The greatest quality of a leader is to diffuse tension, stress, pressure and anxiety. There are no rules that can ensure this. No particular set of orders or directions that can guarantee this. It’s possible only if the leader has the attitude to see the bigger picture, to realize that there is so much more to a person’s life than meeting deadlines for his boss, to know that the most efficient employee will be the one who is happiest and to know that leading means being followed not being pushed behind you. The missing ingredient in leadership is the attitude to let go; to let go of restlessness, perfection, haughtiness, ego and the insatiable insane greed to win every time and everywhere, to dictate the what, how, when, where and why all by your own viewpoint. Goals, deadlines and results are important. These can blindly be chased even by a robot. But leaders cannot be made, they are born. Born to change work from being a profession to a passion, where work, play, fun, happiness, growth, deadlines, contributions and goals, both personal and professional, intermingle into a vicious network. Where I could be proud of doing what I was doing and do it willingly.
The cell-phone buzzed. The report on the seminar was due yesterday. I was late. A previous assignment was ‘atrocious’. It was ‘too’ modern. My boss’ boss hated change. I had overstayed a day at New Delhi for which I had to give a written explanation so that disciplinary action could be initiated. My pay had not been credited this month as the documents required were in a wrong format. The boss was furious. I knew I was in a soup. Darn leadership...

Trust and Faith

At last God did come to me, in my dreams of course. The flashing blue – white light, the sparkling aura, the blindingly dazzling ambience and just Him and me. It was a dream come true, in a dream all right, an intimate meeting with the Almighty. The dumbstruck me could not utter a word and He blessed me and said you will have all you want but there shall be no trust and faith. Before I could gather my mind, body and heart together, the flashing blue – white light, the sparkling aura, the blindingly dazzling ambience vanished and was just me and this world, all by ourselves. The alarm rang as loud as always, it was time to wake up, the dream was gone, and in a flash the present and the future all turned to history. Who cared for time? Who cared about trust and faith in this world? This is life ruled by Darwin’s theory ‘survival of the fittest’ and the fittest were totally independent, self-sustained, self-motivated and self-made. There was no scope for trust and faith. These words died a natural death with the dinosaurs, long back, centuries ago.
So here I was; trying to be independent, self-sustained, self-motivated and self-made and self-everything else, after all the invincible all pervading omni present had told me I would have everything, what else was needed? I left my bed. I couldn’t trust the bed; it could break any time and leave my sprawling on the floor with a bruised body and a bruised ego. The day was sunny, warm and bright, flowers bloomed in every nook of the garden but I could not bring about myself to enjoy the nature, after all nature was unpredictable, who knows how lasting this beauty would be. The milkman could not be trusted with his job, no food could be trusted to be safe, the air could be trusted to be clean! I somehow managed to get out of the four walls I slept in and called my ‘room’. I wanted to go out and take on the world head on, after all I would have everything, I knew, everything!! And so I summoned the best of the cars that I now had newly possessed, the most exotic, the most comfortable, the fastest and the trendiest of all. Ultimately I took a cab; none of the cars could be trusted with my life after all. The cab driver took off, I told him where I had to go. He sped; my heart skipped a couple of beats. I couldn’t trust him to take me right, to take me safely, to charge me the correct sum. It was all too much. Finally, I reached my destination, the biggest and costliest shopping mall in the city and if you haven’t guessed it yet, I reached on foot. Walking down was much more difficult today, who could trust the construction companies to have built a safe and suitable pavement? And what about the roads? Could I trust each and every person in this world driving like a mad man on these untrustworthy roads to drive safely and not kill and maul me when the innocent me was just innocently walking?
Anyways, the mall had been reached with the fifteen floors towering far above my high head. I entered inside. I would buy everything I liked in a snap today I thought. “Sir, you will have to leave that carry bag at the counter over there” a crooked finger pointed with a husky voice of the doorkeeper. No! How could I trust the hard-core businessmen of the mall with the safety of my prized bag? Had I not always been very particular about the bag? I thought I would convince the doorkeeper to let me take it along, but I could not trust my ability to do so. And who could trust the doorkeeper, what if he got violent? I didn’t try to. Leaving the bag at the counter, I convinced myself that it was gone forever.
The gray jacket at the show window was stunning, and that price, unbelievable! I walked in. Somehow I could not trust the salesman when he said that it would last me for many years to come and that it would be the best buy I would make at least for some time to come. I took it nevertheless. Who cared about longevity and money anymore? Money! I had a huge sum in the bank now. How could I be so reckless? How could I leave so much money with a firm that fed on other’s money? I could not have trusted a ‘bank’ to keep my money safely and to take care of my returns and savings. I dashed from the mall. The money had to be secure. The bank was closed for lunch. It would open after two hours. Two hours! I thought. Who could trust a skinny sentry with an outdated manually operated rifle to keep my money safe till then? I as such did not trust the law enforcing bodies to come up with any results in case of any mishap. Probably I thought too loudly. The skinny sentry seemed hurt. “ Sir, you can trust my capabilities, I served in the defense forces for over thirty years”. Defense forces, I gasped, the safety and integrity of my nation and my family and friends and my self was totally at the disposal of hand picked inefficient soldiers at the borders. Who could trust their mettle in today’s supersonic bit-byte-megabyte age? I couldn’t. I felt so helpless, so vulnerable. I left. Who could stand at the same place for two hours and wait for the bank to open. How could I trust the board that told the timings of the bank, what if they never opened again? Besides it would be foolish to trust all the passersby to be innocent and decent people who would mind only their own business. What if someone robbed or kidnapped me? I did not trust anyone to come to my rescue even if such a thing did take place.
It was all becoming too much, I thought. I needed a break. “How about a cup of coffee?” I thought. I walked into the nearest coffee shop in sight. I ordered a black coffee with extra sugar. The waiter bowed and departed. What if he got me no extra sugar? What if the coffee wasn’t good? What if the cashier charged me somebody else’s bill? How could I trust the coffee to be of a good quality? Who could trust the cultivators, or the manufacturers, or the dealers, or the shopkeepers, or the cooks of the eatery? I left even more flabbergasted than before. No coffee. I thought that maybe a small walk along the beach would pacify me. But who could trust the waves and the tides? What about all the people who would also be there? Who could be trusted?
It was all too much. I decided to seek help from God himself, before I went insane. So I ran to the nearest place of worship. I lay half dead with exhaustion and half mad on the floor before the image of God to pray. I wanted to pray but I did not have any faith, any faith at all to even say the first few words of prayer. I could have worshipped the devil that day but even that demanded faith, far greater than what I had. I thought this was the end of life, the end of existence, the end of just ‘being’. Tears! Could I trust the authenticity of my own tears? That day I couldn’t.
The alarm rang as loud as always, it was time to wake up, the dream was gone and in a flash the present and the future all turned to history. I woke up with the greatest happiness known to man. Awake and thankfully happy that it was all a terrible dream. And with the morning - trust and faith drive this world. And I say this neither because of the beauty of the words in this phrase, nor because of the lucidity or the rhythm with which it flows, but because the totality of truth in this phrase has got diluted in the vastness of falsehood and half -truths that we spend our lives in. To realize the correctness of this statement is one of the most beautiful gifts one can give himself. It shall grant each one of us a very ironical but beautiful outlook to life in general. Every moment we spend, every breath we take is underlined by unconditional silent trust and faith in people, situations, nature, life and lifelessness that we come across in our lives. And if you don’t trust me, have faith in yourself and try losing trust and faith. I have full faith and trust myself enough to say that sooner or later you will also believe that ‘TRUST AND FAITH DRIVE THIS WORLD.’

BIRDS AND MONKEYS

One of the salient advantages of my profession is the frequency and diversity in the places I travel to, after all traveling and visiting new places have always been my favorite indulgences. On one such trip to Bareilly, I happened to pass through a small town called Tikonia. The bus I was traveling in halted for a short while. The driver and all on board alighted for a cup of tea, a smoke, to munch on the readily available peanuts or just to stretch their cramped limbs. The break in journey disturbed my half sleepy state of mind as I too followed suit.
The winter morning chill, the typical smell of cow dung and raw tobacco and freshly roasted peanuts hung in the air. I was in no mood to eat or drink anything, so I just stared at the monkeys crowding the area. Some big and strong, others skimpy and weak. Some chattering their teeth, some preening each other’s bodies, some carrying their babies on their backs and the youngest ones clinging tightly to their older and bigger mothers. They all looked like one big family with each and every component, appointment and member of a family present. All of that and the indispensable feelings of love, unity, concern, anger and intolerance for each other, very visible. I looked on with no thoughts in my mind, no emotions, no biases, no expectations and no inferences. The ordinary looking, frequently sighted monkeys were not worth any more time. There was nothing to break the loneliness, the silence, the monotony; nothing at all till the intruders intervened to disturb the perfect harmony I had entered into with the quiet environs.
The intruders in question here were unlike the typical gruesome and violent ones we generally associate with the word, but a flock of some of the most beautiful and colourful parrots I had seen. The striking green coats of feather, the cherry red beaks and the cat-walk like steps of the birds, their short and swift hops from one shop to other an occasional little flight and heart warming chirps, were enough to draw attention and appreciative glances from everyone. They seemed to be very used to people walking about, staring at them and showering them with overwhelming attention. A new set of emotions took over me. I suddenly wanted to express my affinity towards those beautiful creatures, somehow, anyhow. I wanted to thank God for putting life into such subtle beauty. With an unexplained eagerness and anxiety I looked around till the answer dawned on me – peanuts. Yes, I thought this would be the solution to this new self-designed restlessness of mine. I very quickly bought an insignificant amount of peanuts for the birds. Watching the seemingly hungry pack, peck on peanuts would definitely bring an unparalleled joy to my heart. And so began the ordeal of crushing the peanuts into smaller pieces, lest anyone of them choked themselves on; and throwing them to the birds. With clockwork precision I set about the task. However to my utter dismal amazement, I realized that the parrots would have nothing to do with those peanuts. They hardly paid any attention to the small pieces of love, appreciation and peanuts cast before them. What a waste of emotions, I thought. And then to make things worse, one of the enchanting birds came and pecked angrily but cautiously at my shoes as if visibly expressing disappointment and disgust at being treated to something as tasteless as peanuts. His self-esteem seemed to be hurt at being fed such a modest meal. And then they decided that the insult was too much for them to bear and they flew off leaving behind a half angry, half sad, half craving heart of mine. With painful sigh of a banished lunatic, I turned back and threw away all the peanuts I had bought for the lovely birds wishing they would maybe come back some other time and munch on the small pieces of love, appreciation and peanuts cast before them.
I had nothing better to do than to board the bus and wait for the passengers to finish their snack and the driver to get refreshed enough to start off on the bumpy road again. But a touchy sequence of events propelled me to alight again. The big family of monkeys I had so promptly and so deliberately forgotten, was now munching on the peanuts meant for the beautiful parrots. Each and every monkey member of the family, the big and strong ones, the skimpy and weak ones, the mothers, the youngest ones, all crowded around the small pieces of tasteless and modest love, appreciation and peanuts. Each one of them was cracking the nuts, collecting them and happily gobbling down the treat. With expectant eyes, silent gratitude and swift movements of their hands they cleaned up all of the so few peanuts that I had thrown. The unity and patience displayed by the huge family over a meager amount of peanuts could put the most refined and dignified of us to shame. They did not mind the recklessness, with which the peanuts had been thrown, or the fact that they were tasteless, or the fact that they had not been crushed lovingly into smaller pieces, or the fact that they had not been peeled with concern. A handful of peanuts lasted only few moments. I looked on, expecting them to wander away in search of more as what was available was insufficient to satisfy the huge family. We all are either taught or are forced to learn, to move on to better grounds, once all we may harvest is ours.
But this was not to be. One, just one out of the pack walked up to me, scaring me to an appreciable extent. Sat down in front of me and with half grateful, half hungry eyes, looked at me. The others looked on with patience and trust; patience and trust that we, as God’s most intelligent creation had abandoned slowly but surely over the ages.
Those piercing eyes spoke too much to comprehend. They spoke without saying and I understood without listening. The truth in the words a great man of our times partially dawned on me, “When there is love, there is no scope for words.” Such chemistry was rare even with some of the people I was very close to. I did not think twice. They were hungry and I couldn’t refuse for reasons unknown even to me. I couldn’t help buying a generous helping of peanuts for them. The happiness and satisfaction that could be derived by just watching them eat and feed their counterparts can probably never be compared to the so worldly and practical approach we adopt while dealing with people in our everyday routine. For once I wished, the parrots would never come back again, for once the not so attractive monkeys seemed to be as beautiful as the striking green feather coats and the blood red beaks, for once I thanked God for putting life into such wonderful creatures.
The bus moved on and I slumped again into the same half sleepy state I was in earlier. Life moves on and time waits for none and neither do we. But how many ‘parrots’ and ‘monkeys’ have I cared about in my life? Do we feed only ‘parrots’ in our lifetimes as they are more ‘beautiful’? Do we ever care to feed ‘monkeys’ in our lives as lovingly as the parrots? Are ‘monkeys’ and ‘parrots’ both not equally important and amazing creations of God? Do we thank God for the ‘parrots’ only or we thank him for the ‘monkeys’ too? Some answers are too bitter for us to comprehend and accept.

FATE AND DESTINY

It was a small place near Indore this time and it was a friend of mine who was born with a gramophone in his throat. Anything that he spoke became a melodious song. We collected in hoards to listen to him sing. One afternoon we were having a chat and he was not singing for a change. He was speaking, words that were not a beautiful song. “In our entire life we keep chasing small things and then we quit one day, forever.” Human nature, I said. The day you and I can stop running after everything, we would have attained salvation. The topic died between us but not in my mind.
Indeed we do keep chasing small things in life, too many small objects, aims, goals and people. But would life be worth living if there were no goals to achieve, no places to reach, no people to love, no one to remember? What would life be if you could get up one morning and want to do nothing that day? Will there be any aspirations, any motivation, any drive amongst us? The world belongs to people who can shape their destiny and fate, twisting all odds, to those who make things happen, to those who can modify the very designs and shapes of their lives. The world belongs to the powerful, the people who have conviction, the power to influence, to achieve and to win. Goals and aspirations, temptations and attractions is all you and I are about in this world, be they big or small. The day we outgrow these, life would no longer be worth living.
But then again, it’s you who shall lay out your limits, yours goals, and define happiness your own way, define your own ‘big’ and ‘small’. Everyone might not be as ambitious as Alexander, everyone may not be a born winner but there is one thing that each one of us craves for, that’s happiness and success. Everyone work their own way through the matrix of this world to seek and win these. Where we go wrong is when we are unable to define our own goals, our own happiness and fail to identify and shape our own destiny and our own fate. “Life’s not a fair game”, I have heard so many people complain. I believe in it too; But a bit differently. Life’s a game where you can choose your own goals, define your own rules, change them at will, select the players you want to play with, take as much time as you want, do anything you feel like, reach anywhere and feel like a conqueror. It’s a win-win game, and yet you and I end up losing so often, but to whom; we never know. We end up losing because despite our best abilities and efforts, at some point in time, we leave and let go everything we once stood for. True Indians; we follow ‘Do the karma and don’t worry about the fruits’. What is the motivation to do anything well or do anything at all if you do not expect results? Why should anyone put efforts into anything that is not going to reap any fruits? I do not preach materialism and selfishness but we should learn to value our capabilities and efforts. We must learn to value our time and our expectations. Are they worth nothing?
We search for answers to our own questions in numerology, in astrology, in palmistry, in black magic, in prayers, in divinity, in exorcism. Little do we realize that all questions are best answered by the minds and hearts that ask these. The world seeks happiness in money, in relations, in responsibilities, in vanity, in nature, in art, in education, in sport, in politics, in God and in the devil. Each and every goal, each and every road to happiness is glorified by us. We run after these all our lives, never reach the so precious dreams we created ourselves, and then quit, at times, forever. The blame, the loss, the tragedy is all ours. We all have the power to personify lifeless objects, to end life, generate it again and to turn coal to diamond and iron to steel. Still we lose; we lose to none, but our own weaknesses, our own shortfalls.
To this, my friend added the age-old golden words “no one was born perfect”. But yes, no one was born so imperfect too. When we listen through our ears, think from the brain, see from our eyes, love from our hearts and speak from our lips, we perceive the world, as the world outside wants us to perceive it. We chase other’s dreams, their goals, their destinies, play with their rules and lose. The day we learn to listen from our hearts, speak from the eyes, love from the soul and not hear all we listen, we shall make our own rules; design a new game, play and play to win. All those whom we revere and remember for having succeeded in life, having won hands down, were the ones who never played other’s game. They had new goals, new roads, new playgrounds and thus no competition. Newton, Einstein, Socrates, Leonardo da Vinci, Pythagoas, Lincoln, Gandhi, mother Teresa or Bill Gates or the endless list of great musicians, leaders, rulers, sculptors or intellectuals, any number of pages would not suffice to append. Those who defined their own horizons, designed their own games and played from their hearts, heads and souls.... defined their own fate and their own destiny and never lost.
The biggest irony of the world is not in the way we link happiness to the minutest aims or how we waste our lives for much larger ones; it is in our inhibitions to make our own rules and play our own game. It is in the way that we so totally accept the rules made by other’s and play our lives with them and in the way we despair or exalt when we stall or excel in running after the goals, the standards and the aspirations of others, on their roads. We are so prompt in forgetting that even God never copied his own miracles, because what was once the road to glory for one would be a traversed broken footpath for the next.
Like Shakespeare once said, “All the world is a stage and we all have our own parts to play”, and the appreciation of the audience would not come, if you copied the lines of your co-stars. Write your own script, choose where you want to put them and enact this life, which is so flexible that any role would fit anywhere. Dream big and live big, because ultimately size does matter! Fate and destiny are just two words that describe the result of our own game. Welcome to your playground!

SPEAK TO GOD..

Let me start with the presumption that not all who ever happen to read this shall be atheists. Most would be, in full probability normal usual people you and I know, with their own prefabricated understanding and beliefs and trust in the almighty. People who have their own personal way of communicating to God, praying and speaking to Him in spite of the ways the world does so in temples, churches, mosques, idgahs and so many other places of worship which few words shall consistently fail to encompass.
And so when we are over-whelmed, we tune in to the divine frequency and begin our chat. But wait here. Have we ever turned back to think that is it always a chat? Or is it ever a chat? Or does it more often than not reduce finally to our woeful complains and merciful pleads for near completion of our never-ending plethora of desires. When we are over-whelmed I said. Is this over-whelming always of grief, sorrow, mistrust, pain and complain? Or do we ever tune in just to say thank you for no reason, to say that my dear God, I love you? How many times in a day do we turn back, without investing any effort and time and say a prayer of thanks, a small word of love, a small hint of gratitude, of unity, of acceptance? We may occasionally, thank God for what He gave us after we spent days and nights praying for it, but do we ever do that for the insurmountable things, emotions and happiness that He showers on us without our ever asking for it. Do we thank God or praise Him or love him for the sun, the flowers, the days and nights, for rains, for the cool breeze, the power to think that He gave you and me, our intellect or for the food and shelter that we earn for He made you and me capable to earn it? Come to think of it and every breath we take, every step we take, every one we love, every one you hate, every thing that makes you and me and this world what it is, is such a direct derivative of what the perfect architect made. Still most of us end up praying or meditating or following some spiritual practice or other just because we expect it to help us in some way. Either for peace, for understanding, for materialistic needs or for realizations of goals that people dare to dream but cannot struggle to achieve.
We complain of noise but we never thank for our ability to Hear, we complain of pain but never thank for our ability to feel, we complain of selfish people but never thank for the uncountable people who made our lives better, we complain of hatred but never thank for the people we love and those who love us, we complain of crime but never thank for our ability to identify it, or for the people who fight against it, we complain of a prayer unanswered but never thank for hundreds answered, we complain of hunger but never thank him after a good meal, we complain of failure but never thank for what we learn from them. Sounds unfair and unjust, doesn’t it?
But that’s how we have evolved to be and that’s what we seem to warrant today. We seem to be God fearing and believers, but what belief are we referring to here? Do we believe that no matter what comes, God shall hold my hand, as He always did? Do we believe that a prayer unanswered is just the portal to something much better deserved? Do we believe that in spite of what we do or we don’t, God will unconditionally love us? Do we unconditionally love Him? With what motives do I unconditionally love him, if I do?
And then there will be a class of us who will assert the fact that God is not another entity but just or own inner self. So also the fact that when we have faith in God, its just conforms to trust and faith in our own selves. But then if all we do with our so-called ‘inner self’ here, is complain and crib and curse, then we are none worth our flesh and blood. We can’t hate ourselves and love the world. And so we enter again into that dilemma of God or no-God. So great is the human resistance to self-analysis and change that we end up cursing and crying again… again to our fate, our being our inner selves and to God.
It is the most remarkable relationship we share with anyone so to say. We seldom love, seldom remember, seldom appreciate, seldom thank, always ask, always complain and in turn always expect to be loved and taken along. Taken along this beautiful life without regrets, without pain, without complains, without demands.
And then there are people who establish an un-detachable link with Him, those who do end up loving and connecting to Him, those who are one with their inner selves that we spoke of, those who try to guide this magnanimous herd of directionless and thankless us. We reciprocate with sneers and smirks and continue our seemingly endless voyage of botherations and troubles.
I will, if I may lead you to a wonderland full of remorseless beings, who despite their miserable and abyssal busy lives do connect now and then every few minutes to God. They thank Him for every little thing, this world so inadvertently gives them, who don’t take any breath for granted, who chat of all stupid things with God; silently though without letting you and me know and without stopping anywhere in time. They are grateful for the air they breathe, for the water they have, for the progress they exponentially enjoy each day and for being loved so unconditionally. They have their share of difficulties, of hardships, of hatred, of malice and of failure. And they also have their share of strength to go on. Their lives are much happier, much more serene and lovelier than ours.
Think of it, God wanted you and me to be a part of that knowledge and that happiness, but we decisively chose otherwise. He made us with so many expectations and so much love only to see his masterpiece ferment into thankless, loveless, ungrateful brutes that spend precious lives, time and lifetimes mired into complaints, hatred, vengeance and selfishness. Its not always ‘you scratch my back and I scratch yours’ with God, because He doesn’t need you to and you must learn to, yourself. We traverse through our lives seldom connecting to divinity and at the end of it all, what we speak to God always craves for some flavour of affection and happiness, even after Jesus dies with his arms spread in love.

THE SUNGLASSES

In one of the most memorable incidents narrated to me by an array of acquaintances that I have the pleasure of knowing, one of the most striking was the one on New Years Eve of 2006. On a regular visit to the busy and bustling sparkling markets of Lucknow, a middle aged, shabbily dressed gentleman approached this acquaintance of mine. He took out a pair of smart chestnut-colored sunglasses from his pocket and requested my acquaintance to barter it for a meager half meal. His eyes had a half begging half defeated countenance of a heart-broken enthusiast. Totally taken aback, this acquaintance of mine, who was absolutely straightforward about all his dealings, smelt fish and bluntly refused the man with a grunt and a wave of his hand generally associated with swatting flies. The sunglass man implored again and whimpered with a sigh “ Sir, I have not had anything to eat since two days and I am very hungry. This pair of goggles is authentic Ray-Ban and is a brand new piece. Please take it. I will eat something even if you give me Rs.50.” As is typical with most people of our society my acquaintance suspiciously asked him with a superior aloofness “ If you don’t have money to eat, how come you could buy such an expensive piece of optics.” The man winced, and then with the embarrassed tone of a thief caught red handed; “ I stole it, from that showroom” he pointed out with his filthy all skin and crooked boned finger.
This acquaintance of mine had led a life of principles. He was decently well to do and extremely conscious of the notion that all his unlimited financial assets were a result of pure hard work and good luck of his forefathers and the credibility of this statement of mine is questionable, even by the person writing it. Nevertheless, a God fearing and straight man like my acquaintance, could never buy anything that was stolen, despite the fact that it was the most beautiful pair of sunglasses he had seen ever and was not hesitant to accept this fact. But he walked on; and narrated the incident to me just minutes later over a couple of cigarettes at my modest lodging. The most preposterous part of the whole incident to me was the refusal of my acquaintance to such a lucrative offer. I, very quickly and very sarcastically told my acquaintance that the age-old chivalry, honesty and morals were now out of fashion. I did not waste any time in convincing him that he had indeed been a poor judge of the opportunity and had no idea that the world was ruled by people who could capitalize on opportunities as and when they arrived and that the man would have sold the same beautiful pair to someone else and that one man could do no good by being morally upright in a country of over a billion morally extinct living beings.
My friend departed moments later with a polite invitation to his place at mid night to celebrate the dawn of another 12 months of our lives. I call him a friend now because we had broken some limits of formality between us during this recent tête-à-tête. My mind wandered back to the Ray – Ban. Maybe the man was still searching for a buyer? What if he had already sold it? Would someone hand him over to the police or to the showroom he swiped the goggles from? Too many questions and I had no answer. I decided to walk down to the place myself and see if I could grab the golden opportunity. Would lady luck smile on me at least today, the last day of yet another year that I had witnessed in totality? I put on a jacket and walked down to the market. I knew the exact place he had been at. I did not know that with each step my heartbeat grew faster and so did my pace. Before long, I was there. The very spot I wanted to reach. My eyes scanned each and every person in the vicinity. The bustling market place, the bright lights, discos blasting away the best collection of party songs one ever heard, the smell of fresh coffee and cakes, the screeching cars and happy young couples eagerly waiting for the new year to draw closer; everything seemed to be perfect. My mind wandered back to my mother and my family back at Dehradun. How would they be celebrating the eve? It had been long since I had been with them at any kind of celebration. I thought of the great friends back from school, though I knew they would be to busy partying to think of anything else. What would they be doing in happening places like Delhi, Bombay or Pune, where time ran ahead of everyone, everyone ran behind money and life ran behind the rich? “Sir, would you care to lend me a ear?” A pale and drawn face asked me in broken Hindi and a crackling voice. I spun, could it be him? The man I had come hunting for? “I am famished, I haven’t had a meal for two days. Can you please take this pair of sunglasses from me and help me with a slender meal?” His voice and his face made me forget the sunglasses. He looked as if a skeleton from the biology laboratory at school had worn a dry skin and put on some tarnished clothes. His eyes buried deep inside his tired brows were half full of tears. My heart ached. New year was it? What significance did first of January have for him? I pulled him by his sleeve and took him into a ‘not so impressive’ eatery right behind us. I could have bought the entire store for him that night; and I did. Everything from bread to sandwiches to pizzas and dishes I had never cared to read in a menu. He ate, gobbled, swallowed, chewed, all at once. Half laughing, half crying; half thankful, half confused, but he ate, he ate till he could put nothing else in his mouth. Through the entire half an hour that he ate non stop I could only stare at him and feel happy, feel sad, feel disturbed and watch, all in silence. After he had had his full, he looked up at me, spoke some undecipherable words of gratitude shed a couple of tears and vanished into the bustling market place, the bright lights, discos blasting away the best collection of party songs one ever heard, the smell of fresh coffee and cakes, the screeching cars and happy young couples eagerly waiting for the new year to draw closer. But he left behind the dark chestnut Ray Ban. As I paid for the meal and picked up the sunglasses, the world seemed to melt away. I did not mind paying almost five times the amount I was prepared to pay for them, I did not mind getting late for the mid night party I had so cordially been invited to, I did not mind not being with the people I loved on New Years eve, I did not mind the filthy fingerprints on the sunglasses and I did not mind promptly walking down to the showroom from which the glasses were stolen and returning them back to the confused and startled owner who did not understand how to react to the entire scene. Happy New Year, I wished the owner and I wished myself. Maybe lady luck did smile on me for once; maybe the old values and morals were not so out of fashion, I thought. Despite the best of my half-hearted efforts, he refused to take the sunglasses back. I was not unhappy to carry them along.
Minutes later I was at the mid night party I had been eagerly waiting to attend, my heart still filled with an illogical happiness, my mind still lost in thoughts of the sunglasses and the man. Nevertheless I went around the gathering, seemingly engrossed in handshakes and smiles. Wine flowed, music played on and on and on, exotic delicacies flew from one table to another, red carpets, silk curtains, teak sofas, magnanimous chandeliers, people enjoying songs that seemed to be more of noise and less of music, an amazingly vulgar display of wealth and vanity. At last I did get a chance to share the proceedings of my rendezvous with the sunglasses man with the host, my friend and few of his friends.
What followed were jeers from everyone, a whole lot of sardonic comments, some jokes that I could not, despite my best efforts, take in the right spirit and a whole lot of advises on the functioning of the modern world. “These emotions and concerns are nothing but the beginning of the end of the road for you”, someone told me. The night or should I say the morning ended pretty late. I had spent the entire party in calculating what was right morally and what was worldly right in year 2006 AD. I still have a long way to go before I understand the true requirements of a man of this era, was all I could conclude.
Was it right for the privileged few to have over displayed their riches for an occasion that just symbolizes the passage of time? Or was it that the average Indian was far ahead of the place I was standing at in time? Should no one actually care about those for whom a meal is far higher on the priority list than celebrating New Year? What was New Year’s Eve to those who had no respite from earning a meal a day? Do we really have some responsibilities towards society? If so what is the scope of such duties? Are values of love, humanity and honesty actually out of fashion? What is the true importance of money, the most important thing of today’s world? Should I have handed over the man to the police? After all he was a thief, a criminal. Did my actions actually help the man or did it send a message across that the wrong way is probably the only way? Would he continue to steal to feed himself? Is it not the fundamental right of every person to stay alive by any means that he can? What was the true story behind his actions? Was I actually an idiot to have tried to return the sunglasses to the showroom? Do values outweigh materialism even today? Or did they ever? These are questions I have failed to find answers to. Maybe the sunglass man or the owner of the showroom can answer them better.
Meanwhile life and time do go on. We continue running after money, vices continue to run after us, life continues to run after the rich, time continues to run ahead of us all and we all end up running all the time and reach nowhere. Where is the end to this mad run and what happens to those who are unable to keep pace remains to be found out. Maybe the people at the party did know how to run ahead of time and make money and life run behind them. Who was right, who was wrong, who knows, who will ever know?

CONCRETE DUST

This time it was Bangalore. After I had been to likes of New Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata, Pune to name a few. Blame it to the meager amount of years I had spent being born, or call it a blessing in disguise; I had been saved the agony of seeing Biejing, New York, Santiago or London as yet. Agony? Can’t really believe I said that. Huge roads; four lanes, the most striking of all. Long way had we traversed since the times of Hercules. Pity the times people had to run hundreds of miles to deliver letters. Wonder if there were any beautiful love letters delivered that way. Would that be romantic or unromantic? Either ways! Personally, I prefer e-mail, sometimes sms too. Sky scrapers; literally brushing away the clouds, reminisces of some Tom and Jerry show I saw sometime in life. I wonder how kids could ever stand those. Rudimentary animation! Audis, Mercedes, Fords you name it, they have it. This metropolitan culture; I just love life. Not just the cars though. At least I don’t have to look at horse-carriages, they still run in old cities of Britain I’m told. Talk about animal rights! These modern day people have rights for everyone except men. When was the last time a sheep complained against vegetarianism?
I was never comfortable in huge cities. Maybe it’s the anonymity and insignificant-ness that is scary. Does that mean I’m chicken hearted? I need a psychiatrist, or maybe a psychologist! Doesn’t matter, I’m not going to pay heed to either! At the cost of remaining chicken? Talking of chicken, people have discovered a new disease, or should it be invented a new disease? Bird flu they call it. Is it new at all? I don’t want to know. Returning back to big cities, not that I flow opposite to development, but our roots still need to be firmly networked into nature and simplicity. Amazing statement. Guess Aristotle’s soul got into me! Or were Wright brothers better environmentalists? I’m told they used to watch birds fly day in and day out. Alas! Birds never flew at night those days. The third generation birds have night flying capabilities too; I heard someone say that on Discovery channel. I don’t think he was referring to airplanes. They don’t still have head lights. My old car is better in that respect.
Oh, I forgot the topic again! But big is good, I guess. Shopping malls, multiplexes, drive-in basements, five star hotels, excellent Chinese restaurants, cool cabs, street lights or maybe flood lights, I don’t know which. What will the world be if all we could eat were eucalyptus leaves, wild fruit and wild flowers. Sorry for sounding like a polar bear; or are they Pandas, hardly matters. I could be a honeybee instead. World renowned eating joints, McDonalds, Baristas.... sorry, I mentioned coffee shops pretty late; though I love coffee much more than that. Wonder what people had before they discovered coffee. Life would be so useless without tea, coffee, pastries, chocolate and soft drinks. I wish I owned a restaurant which sold all that. Thank God I was born in the 20th century. But how could people in olden days be vegetarian? It’s so... backward!
I see show rooms, arcades, big banks, airports, at times more than one in a city too. Railway stations; big enough to give a complex to most old time forts and palaces. Pardon me again, metro services! How could I forget? These days distances are so mammoth despite the world being such a small place; wonder who said that clichéd sentence first; I would hate to travel in anything other than an airplane. Maybe a helicopter also would do, in difficult areas. Thank you Left brothers; of were they Wright brothers? Whichever! Anyways, mobile services and sky rocketing antennas! Oh! My phones, my life lines, I know I start suffocating without them. It’s so impossible to imagine myself without them. How could people work before they were discovered? Invented? Either! This must be factual reason for poor work outputs and low work indices in earlier days.
Neatly laid out market places, luxury buses; air-conditioned too. Electricity lines, high tension wires, sprawling lawns and gardens, with huge roses and marigolds; thanks to modern fertilizers, land movers and imported grasses. What sweet smells and sights! Why would anyone even want to visit a national park or sanctuary? I think they are the same! Or are they not? The animal rights people I mentioned earlier need to be summoned for causing this confusion. Or should the Oxford University be sued for so many similar meaning confusing words? Not my palette of duties. Well coordinated traffic signals, smooth flow of vehicles, over the fly-overs and under the sub-ways. What intense harmony. God himself could take few tips from these! Huge apartments complete with gymnasiums, swimming pools, private roads, private departmental stores, state of the art elevators and escalators. Business class offices, server rooms, imported telephone exchanges, tasteful furniture and tapestries; eye catching working environment. Wonder why people took pains of weaving and knitting by hand. Awfully slow and inefficient way to produce stuff. Every thing is so wonderful these days, made with clockwork mechanical precision. I keep getting so excited seeing all this. Those gymnasiums were absolutely incomparable, complete with complex equipment that could put any mechanical engineer to shame, Jacuzzis, sauna baths, absolute bliss. Making an effort to keep fit is so easy now. I’m sure people before us would have been all obese and weak.
Those business offices were breathtaking. If can’t even dream of comparing it with the kind of offices we have in my profession, to say the least. A good and rich ambience definitely puts you in a mood to work well. But I guess those office chairs were a bit too comfortable. I would hate to get caught sleeping in the office. But I guess their beds are even more comfortable. Though I can’t imagine anything more comfortable than those chairs. But who knows with all those hi—tech mattresses I keep seeing on the television, maybe they have come up with one that’s more relaxing than a mother’s embrace. I think these new mattresses automatically start singing lullabies when you want to go off to sleep.
Glass doors, sliding windows, trimmed hedges, elaborate porticos, emphatic bakeries and fully automatic machinery, it scares me to think that some day, these computers and machines may take over the human race. On top of that, they even came up with a terminator movie with the same theme. Technology can be creepy? No, only my wayward intimidated imagination. Automatic teller machines(I came to know that ATM is an acronym today itself) , gas driven eco- friendly cars and better than real sounds and picture qualities in music systems and televisions, not to forget mentioning plasma televisions and DVDs. Designer clothes, Rohit Bal is it? Irrespective! Internet, Wi-Fi, Wi-Max, computers, laptops, palmtops and everything in zeros and ones! Picture this as we go along. Stage shows by billboard stars. Sorry, I forgot again, billboards, huge ones and famous stars. Freeways, expressways, toll booths. Police teams in mobile interceptors. All interceptors are mobile, aren’t they? No, I’m sure in old backward times we even had static ones. Not that it affects me in any way, but I do get curious about old things, the same way those outdated people once were curious about new things.
Imported strawberry and chocolate flavoured syrups. They make me also taste like a good cook. Wonder why our moms used to spend hours in the confounded kitchens cooking the whole day. The automatic foods these days take only few seconds to get ready and are fully of artificially induced naturally occurring minerals and vitamins. Talk about health food. Some stale and nutrition-less diet people used have earlier, and even today in small towns and villages. Imagine we have even come up with nutritionists these days. Soon we’ll have automated foods with balanced nutrition which we will be able to drag and drop into our stomachs straight from out laptops. Food mixes, one minute meals. Pretty looking gift shops; Archies and Hallmark collections, beautiful posters and magnetic florists stationed outside. Night clubs, pubs and discotheques. Bowling alleys, snooker tables, fitness centres, water parks and amusement parks by the hundreds. Maybe thousands, I have no idea about the difference. Ever since we started using calculators, I have forgotten how to count. Why do we have to teach our children how to count, why teach them mathematics at all? Scientific calculators and palmtops can do everything that is required! Unnecessary load on the kids, detrimental to their mental and psychological development. No wonder people in olden times were so dumb. It took them so many years to ‘discover’ that ‘zero’ also exists. I knew it when I was just three years old. They teach counting in school. Fortunately! Was I opposing conventional education just now? Anyways, you understood that earlier people were dumber than today’s bright generations.
I haven’t forgotten go-karting and video game parlours. Ice- cream parlours too! Baskin Robbins, Naturals and Nirulas! Thrill, over – whelming happy moods, laughter, celebrations and ecstasy everywhere. Its amazing how much happiness ice-creams can spread. I think I just figured out why children earlier used to remain so unhappy and depressed. Their elders had never thought of ice-creams. I think Black Currant is the best, or is it Strawberry? I’ll have to ask some friends. Oh my God! Friends! We have e-friends, pen friends, school friends, college friends, close friends, boy friends, girl friends, ‘just know each other’ friends. That is how our social lives are so active yet serene. Ultimate companionship. Now that’s the best advantage of metropolitan cities. It has so many people that you invariably end up having so many friends even if you don’t know each other’s names.
We soon became bored of natural parks or sanctuaries, whichever the Oxford University dictionary didn’t scrap; that we also came up with artificial lakes. Some beautiful ones I have seen myself. In magazines and on the television of course. Who has the time to visit places? Sit-outs, cable cars, rotating high back leather upholstery office chairs, exotic cigarettes and champagnes. Whiskies, scotch and vodkas too. Terrace lounges, digital cameras, hi speed printing presses. These things may seem a little unrelated but trust me they are very closely linked. Neither of these were available couple of decades back! OK, clear those wrinkles on your forehead; half a century back! Industries, innumerable and ‘unaccomodatably’ expansive and expensive! Inflation has had its toll too. But the rupee is getting stronger I am told. And the dollar is getting weaker. Great! Half of the nation’s earnings are in dollars. Guess we must rush to foreign exchange counters. But I really wonder how people exchanged currency a thousand years back. Maybe people never traveled abroad. The world was a bigger place then, I think. Booming stock markets, a currency gaining strength by the smallest fraction of time. Turnovers in uncountable proportions, development, automation, management of all aspects that exist or avenues that shall ever exist or ones that ever existed. Call centres, hospitality industry, mutual funds, foreign investments, mass communications.
Then ones' imagination runs amok and you can practically see the next millennium, robotics, nuclear energy, battery run cars, unmanned aircraft, blinding speeds, interconvertible energies and matter, scientific and technological break-throughs that we may not even contemplate today, colonizing the cosmos, reining the seas, the winds and the stars. ‘Nanomillimicro’ technology, artificial intelligence, smart wars with smart weapons, unified appliances... the list goes on and on and on......
Shall we ever stop? Where are we running to? Is life actually a celebration and are we invited? Have we become modern before we have become civilized? Are we becoming intelligent and unwise at the same time? Dust of power and materialism has settled on love, sympathy, sacrifice, courage, faith and happiness. I need to breathe! But only dust enters my nostrils. Concrete dust! PHOOH... i need to hit one of those comfy mattresses that sing lullabies... good bye mom! hello mattress.