Values – Is it Relative? Part 2

Now let extrapolate this to what I have witnessed in the last few weeks and then you would be proud of the how strong the Indian belief system is, that though we have wrongly defined values, has taken us great steps ahead and will do for a long time till we throw away our values.

So, I guess I can use a traditional North Indian family tradition as an example, which is to touch the feet of elders and take their Ashirwad. Now by doing that, indirectly you have administered to bow down, which means you are not the, be all and end all of life, you tend to respect authority (again in the “right” manner) and are asked to be humble and respect human beings around you. Phew I never thought I can think so much and be so creative – Hahaha. The key value here is respect.

To place this in the UK context and the current generation of the Brits, let me quote my experiences. To begin with, I take a bus to work and everyday in the morning there are a set of students who travel along with me on the same route to reach their school which is a few stops before the one get off. Among these students there are 3 “white” (This is just contextual and not any racial discrimination) girls who probably are in high school, looking at their age, certainly in their teens though. The first day itself I found them to be really loud, laughing, giggling, shouting, talking etc. I gave them their credit purely based on their age and just took it as a one off case where they probably were sharing some joy, but wondered where the British decorum was; as time went by, this was their normal routine, day in and day out and all the travellers were getting disturbed and were showing their dissent through their body language and these girls were not bothered at all about their surroundings. It’s good to be your self as long as you take responsibility for the same. This even continuous till today, but sometime last week, a fellow passenger who travels the same line and walked up to them and asked to respect the others in the Bus and have a check on their noise levels and these girls asked this traveller to basically bugger off. Now this traveller must be in his late thirties and these girls probably early teens and when this incident happened, one elderly women remarked, saying, this is the generation of England which will kill the culture of Old Britain. It’s so true to look at that these girls have absolutely no respect for fellow human beings and even today they were the same. Now this might be trivial, but as you travel, read and watch programmes of the youth across the UK, you would just wonder where all the respect and kindness of the basic lifestyle and behaviour, which is what the English are known for are and have disappeared. What the lady said is very true, with this change of lack of respect and the attitude the younger generation of Brits have, they are going to turn Britain into a violent and aggressive country and the environment is going to change, thanks to the lack of values they perceive.

If we look at the largest working, knowledgeable and English speaking middle class out of India, lots of things have changed. Very few want to join a PSU and retire, ambitions are soaring, the money power is increasing, the lifestyle has changed, but overall the set of beliefs that have been instilled, which create a set of perceived values are what has kept us going and will keep us going. For decades now, the west has come to see our culture, the reason simply is that they don’t have much of it and whatever they have is deteriorating. It is not only pertinent for us as Indians to ensure we continue to live with our values and belief systems but also to ensure we instil the same if not more into the generations to follow for us to be the world capital of culture, values and good belief systems.

Values – Is it Relative?

This blog could lead you to read it as Gyann for sure, but I demand of you to step back and recollect, realise and replenish yourself with how important ‘Values’ are, in this fast paced, materialistic, non-emotional and very selfish world that we live in.

The whole context of me writing this blog is purely based on the different experiences I have been having, or shall we say have been seeing around me in London. I am not going to write about those trivial things which are different and make the normal conservative Indian go à aah, what rubbish or what the absolute unexposed middle classed parents / grandparents hear or see on TV that they think their children should be so well domesticated that they would not cross what they define as values, because it is the lifestyle of the west versus the east, or the westerners versus the Karma Bhoomi, India.

So following from the point above, what is values, is it as what we say ontologically as what you define or declare as values, is actually the values or is it something more intricate, delicate or simply straight forward. Being in the 21st century, my first attempt was to Google it out and my first choice was Wikipedia and the following is the definition.
A personal and/or cultural value is an absolute or relative ethical value, the assumption of which can be the basis for ethical action. A value system is a set of consistent values and measures. A principle value is a foundation upon which other values and measures of integrity are based. Human values are a set of emotional rules people follow to help make the right decisions in life. Good values instill a sense of integrity, honesty, and diligence in people.

I have highlighted a few words above to question actually what those words mean. Integrity à my favourite subject, guess I can start writing a book only on it, but what does Integrity actually mean. Majority of us couple Integrity and Honesty and truthfulness or just define all of them with the same example. So to start with, the most common example given to me was about my Mom’s dad or my granddad, who people say lived with loads of integrity. I beg to differ, as what I know of him, he lived a brilliantly Honest life, nothing taken away from him. On saying this, what does integrity really mean?

One school of thought, which I agree to a great degree and if you relate to the corporate world or even your day to day tasks states integrity as à Integrity is all about keeping your promises or commitments or declaring that you will commit or promise to deliver a task at a particular time (or date) and ensuring it is delivered on or before that declared time. In the event of the task not being delivered at the said time, authentically and proactively letting know the promised person on why it did not happen and redeclaring another time for the delivery whilst taking full personal responsibility for not adhering to the first instance. Take any example in your life and visit that instance, when what you promised was delivered and when you promised and when you failed but did not take responsibility. The key value there is taking personal responsibility. Am not sure whether my granddad lived with absolute integrity.

Enough on integrity and lets get back to the subject of the blog, values. I touched upon a key area in the last para, which was personal responsibility and also if we look at the definition of values, it’s about personal and relative choices and worst thing is it is based on emotional rules.

Fantastic à emotional rules, set by people or animals who have a sixth sense which is dominated by a science called emotions and this what we call ‘Values’

Now is the time to step back and think, how we have had ‘Values’ defined to us by our elders, how we define ‘Values’ to our siblings or children or even our peers or our teams. Brilliant !!! isn’t?
What we want to perceive as right or wrong (emotionally or scientifically in some cases) are the values we dictate to others. But what is Right or Wrong? à another totally different argument or discussion, which I can write long on but will stick to Values in this blog.

Lets take an ideal middle class Brahminical example to describe this (not many people might like this example as this might be radical to your beliefs , Hahaha, as this is not your Values) – Dad tells his son not to consume Alcohol as this is against our Values. Good, my question is simple, as it is scientifically proven to have a certain administered portion of alcohol daily as it helps our system and secondly, please show me where this value is written and who defined it. This could be a very strong belief system carried on and passed on from generations together, which am fine with, but it’s not a Value. For me if this person starts to consume alcohol and takes full responsibility of himself and the community around him, it’s good enough but the counter is, that if this person becomes an alcoholic and say, starts to abuse his wife or children, then that man has lost his values in life à my definition, but think for a moment.

Manchester United -- One Dream complete, Many More to go – Old Trafford, a tick in the box -- Cond

The first feeling of the environment as you enter Manchester is truly Asian, dirt, Paan strewn and loads of shops having Muslim names, like shanaz etc. We got down from our bus and hurried into a cab to get us to the stadium. I was all pumped up and as we arrived at the ground, all you could see is a sea of Red. There were more than 76000 people who attended the game and you could see a large portion walking into the grounds. It’s a feeling that just can’t be described to part of one huge family called Manchester United (suddenly became another family to me). You are so drawn into the euphoria that you just get swept into it. We stopped over the stalls to buy some merchandise, like scarf’s (as seen in the Photo), pins etc and had to climb atleast 6 floors to get to our seats. As you get into the stadium its just pure brilliance, the atmosphere, the colour is Red all around, the sense of being a massive club, the energy, the sound, the songs, I can just keep writing on and on. For a few seconds you are literally overawed by the situation and I took a few minutes to realise that I had to find my seat, which I did promptly and took my camera out to snap pictures of the great stadium, the fantastic team and the aura around me called Old Trafford Manchester. As we settled down and allowed the game to begin, the champions started to press from the very first second and the goals were going to come. As they played and completed the first half they were already up by 2 and by the end of the game they were up by 5, thorough thrashing and that’s what champions are made off à isn’t.

The game had to come to an end as all dreams and so did mine, but this one was real and it was fulfilled. A tick in the box for one great dream comprehensively and thoroughly enjoyed à what a day.

As I complete this blog, I urge on the readers to go full throttle to completed your life dreams one by one à just go for it, as life will keep throwing up reasons for you to not be able to complete any, because that’s how life is. My Theatre of Dreams was seen and played out, when will yours be;

Adios till next time.

Thank God for “What We Are”

Let me start this blog, by thanking the almighty for making us “What We Are”. This context is prevalent to the Current Level of Existence that we are in, or in other words we should grateful for the hundreds of things that we get or we live with and as simple as roti, kapda and makaan.

At times, due the rat race that we run, called life, to ensure we are on top of things, that we choose are the best if we have, like, a grand apartment, a good sedan, a few million in the bank, we just don’t realised how privileged we are to be what we are now.

You might now start to think, why this blog is so philosophical or why am giving gyann and there is solid proof or reason for it. In India, we shoo away beggars on the road for many a reason. We don’t stop by to look at whether he is digging into the garbage just for anything that he might get to eat to survive or whether he/she is wearing tattered clothes, ragged on the road with nothing to eat etc. All this happens while we run our rat race and we don’t have time to look at them, some say there is a mafia behind the beggar community (There is even a movie with that concept), some say its their fate and so on, but we never look to help them in the real sense (Giving them alms, how much ever it may be or Anna Dhanam is not a help, it is done for our selfish reasons in most cases) and even ponder their existence. I am not complaining as I am one, just like the person who is reading this blog currently, who actually does nothing. Another thing to ponder here, is, most times we visit a temple we offer our hundial, or we donate a lot to temples, why can’t we donate it to the poor or do some charity. All the money that is given to the temple just rests there or is used by a useless administrator or politician for tasks/ circumstances that certainly have an ulterior motive. The best is that, we donate in the temple, because we want something to happen or because something that we wished for what happened.

I guess I can write a book on how we don’t actually do the right stuff (I know there is no right or wrong in life, just used it contextually and this is for all my ontological friends, reading this blog), but let me state the context of why I chose to write this blog. People who have worked with me, a few friends and of course my wife, would guarantee that it would take something special for anything to touch a soft spot in me. I am naturally assertive, at times tending towards aggressiveness, but realistic and practical majority of the times, that emotions don’t get the better of me. But what I was touched with today, is the way some people live and behave even in London. It’s not uncommon to see a beggar or an urchin on the road, but some people are different or life is difficult for them to do the acts am about to mention below.

On any common day, you would take these people to Londoners, as they are comfortably clothed and do not look like in need, but to my surprise this afternoon, near a café I found a bunch of people waiting for the café to place their trash bags in the corridor next to the shop, only for these waiting people to dig in to find unused or food that has just been expired. I can’t determine the word ‘just’, as I really do not know the date on these food packets or sandwiches etc, but they dig in to eat them. On every retail pack of food in the UK, you would find two dates. One for display and one for expiry, and if it has only one date, then it refers to both. But I was stunned to see people dig in. you can argue with me about their clothing as their common wear, when compared to the Indian beggar. But trust me I would not do that and thank god for not placing me in that position and of course am sure he would not so, in the future.

The next thing that really startled me was, when I was outside a café to get a coffee and there is this ‘white man’ walking on pavement and searching for cigarette buds thrown on the floor. He would select the one he wants and pick them up and place it in the box he is carrying. Again this man is well clothed, with nice jerkin to contain his warmth and cover him from the cold, whilst his companion stood there, with a decent hand bag, waiting for him pick the buds. I noticed that, this guy picked only the ones which were round or not flat, as people would normally stamp on to them after they have contained themselves with their puffing. Now this happened throughout the pavement and he carried on till he went off my sight. I could not contain my curiosity and asked a British colleague of mine, on what was the context; this man was picking up the buds that too very selectively. He told me that, this is common in UK, as these people pick up the buds that are round and go home and open them up to use the leftover tobacco for them to make a cigarette for themselves. I know that cigarettes or tobacco cost a fortune in the UK, but I never witnessed people stooping to this level. You can ask why does he need to smoke? , now that’s his choice, but look at the level that this man goes to survive.

Not only this, I know so many people, seen TV shows, where these people have lost their jobs in the last few years, thanks to the financial bubble burst, be subprime lending rates or credit issues, end of the day, these people have to survive and support a family without a job.

Looking at the above two incidents, am really ‘Thankful to GOD, for what I am currently’. Take a moment and look at your life. You currently have a computer with internet connection to read this blog, which certainly means you are comfortable in life. But we continue to worry about the things we don’t have and how bad life has been or treating us. Please step back and look around you; you are blessed to be “What you are”

My Experience with HSBC Bank

At last my first official Blog (The history of last year was more a memoir) in a few months and first for 2010.
Since last September I have been enquiring with a couple of branches HSBC Bank (in Oxford street and one near my office) on how to open an account in the UK, to negate the heavy service charges pressed upon me by ICICI bank, my salary account in India, for the ATM withdrawals in the UK and also to hedge the currency fluctuation, which was eating up my account balance. To put it into context, an average withdrawal would make your poorer by atleast £10 per withdrawal and this was the least you want when you are long term. At that instance, HSBC clearly stated that I needed a visa valid for a year (I had a 2 year multiple entry Business Visa then) and a visa that was a permanent one, like atleast a Work Permit and not a Visitor or a Business Visa.
I had dropped the idea then to open the account and resumed my enquiry in the middle of December, before I went away to India on my Vacation and to get my Work Permit Visa done. The requirements were very simple and they just wanted a letter from my employee in the UK stating my addresses in India and the UK along with copies of my passport and visa. Typically and actually the account is called a Passport account valid for a minimum of one year and extendable thereafter and had only a minimum charge of £8 per month for maintenance.
Once I returned in January I walked to same branch of HSBC, pretty close from my office in London, just to double check the requirements they had stated in December. This time the representative gave me a totally different set of requirements and told me that I needed a credit history in the UK for them to open an account. Then I questioned her about the entire idea of why HSBC had an account for immigrants to the UK called the Passport account, as they would not have any credit history, for which, she went blank and to cover her reasons, she told me that her branch had to have a tie up with my company Allianz to accept their letter as a proof and that she would call the next morning confirming the requirements. I waited and got no response from her and was disappointed and gutted for the lack of customer experience that she and the bank had provided.
Nonetheless, I called their customer help line no. to get the customer rep’s contact details and ended up enquiring the requirements and they gave the same that I had received in December. That evening, whilst returning home, the team and I decided to stop at Canary Wharf to buy groceries at TESCO’s and some window shopping at the Mall. The Mall is primarily set up for the employees who work in and around the financial hub of London, so we can expect the prices to be on the higher end and it is Canary Wharf. In the Mall they had a personal banking branch of HSBC, and I tried my luck to enter and get the requirements and found that they were the same as of December and as spelt out by the telebanking staff. So I reached out to my UK line manager in Guildford for her to pass on the letter to me, which with some work around as she was going on her vacation, got it done through another senior member of our group. I got a scanned copy of the letter only to find out from the telebanking staff that they required an original. A friend of mine was to bring over to London and he forgot it in a hurry.
I tried my luck, or took a hint from Robin Sharma’s 62 things you should do this year, one of which is take small risks in life everyday, no try, no win. So here I was with a coloured printout of the scanned copy to the branch with my passport and then, began the most extraordinary customer experience I have had so far, especially opening a bank account or with any financial institution.
The manager walked out and told me that they cant do it unless I work over at canary wharf and I told him that they did not mention it a couple of days earlier and I would have not wasted my time. He instantly apologised for not informing me and since it was their error put me onto a representative to open the account. She looked at my letter, took my passport, photocopied the passport and the Visa and began opening the account on her computer. She told me that she would need to do an international credit verification as I had no credit history in the UK, for which, I gave her my thumbs up. She kept speaking to me and reiterating the rules and regulations of the account type and in about 8 minutes she asked me to punch in my security numbers onto the account on her screen. My first question to her was, is the account set up and she said absolutely yes and its nearly done and I had to punch in my security numbers to complete the set up. I asked her next about the international credit verification and she said it’s already done and it was part of the set up. They finished my international credit check in less than 8 minutes, WOW !!. I punched in my security codes and it is a 8 digit number and she prompted me not to have any dates in, such as, date of birth or marriage anniversary etc. as it can hacked She then excused herself for a minute to return with the account kit and explained it for about two minutes and here I was with a UK bank account with HSBC in less than 10 minutes.
This experience does not end here; she told me that if I had a friend who had a passport account, I could send her the details of his account and both of us would get £10 into each of our accounts. I obliged, and sent the details the very next morning and as promised by her, it was in my account in less than 48 hours. Then, the next thing which amused me was how the debit card arrived. I reached home last night to find a post with my address details hand written. It was a normal white cover and my assumption was, it was tickets to the Manchester United games that I booked and was infact delighted to see them. To my astonishment it was the debit card, placed between two pieces of thin chart paper and on them it was written, stating that, for security reasons they have placed my cover containing the debit card between them and posted it to me as a normal post, that fraudsters don’t notice it. I went gaga over the idea and the intent and the extent they would go to securitize the customers.
It’s been a terrific customer experience with a premier international bank or for matter any financial institution that I have had a relationship with. An India, opening a bank account with a Chinese bank, HSBC, in the financial capital and Hub of the United Kingdom, and that’s how multicultural London can be.

The year that was -- 2009

Its that time of the year, beginning of a new one and the end of another to reflect on the year that went by. The usual norm in my life has been to crib about what I could have done better and what I have not done, but for the first time in my entire life and for sure going forward I have relished the year 2009 and all this thanks to the mega transformation that I have created in my life, the people who I have been with the way I dealt with circumstances and the way I created 2009.The above paragraph has a lot of ‘I,s’, but at times it is good for one to pat one’s own back on the achievements created by self. As human being’s we do not know how to respond, when somebody appreciates us, leave alone self appreciation and I can guarantee, that this is not my ego or self praise or the urge to show my worth.
The year began well with a business trip to the UK for 7 weeks, of which, the best experience was of heavy snowfall and me being present to enjoy every bit of it. Also I had the opportunity to get my prized possession of a DSLR. Though I was going through the cold in the UK, there was enough heat in India with the preparation for the D-Day i.e. marriage which was in full swing. As the days went by, I had lesser time on hand to get my part of the wedding preparation done, like shopping, inviting people etc. and even before I realised after landing in India in mid February I was en route to tumkur for the biggest event of my life till date.
And then we arrived in tumkur with a huge bandwagon of people from all over India and even before I realised or allowed the feeling of me getting married to sunk in, it was all over, I had lost my bachelorhood and was installed into the realms of major manhood, with my wife standing by my side. The marriage was over, then the trip to tirupathi and then the reception in Chennai and in the end, the month , March was done by. All I remember of my reception is I stood there shaking my head to acknowledge people and my hand to accept their greetings. The worst part is that, both of us did not even get a chance to have the fantastic menu on offer and that too eat it hot. Advise to people who expect a large number at their reception – take a break in between to have your dinner.
We moved into Trivandrum and I got to work only to find that April, whisked by. But we had a great and memorable trip / drive to munnar and back, which was awesome, except for the fact that we had company of family friends, which then denied us to term our first trip together as our honeymoon. So technically, we are still to have our honeymoon – Hahaha.
April to June was acclimatisation period, with one and another, as, for however long you know each other and court around, living under a single roof is different and in most cases when people court, they try to be at their best behaviour at most times. With being with each other, you then have to make choices, negotiate etc. on your habits, actions etc. than when you were on your own, alone in that splendid world, where the extra thing called responsibility of handling / living with another being (who because she believed in you) before the nuptial bond did not exist. Only if these periods of choices are accepted by each other, can you certainly term the other as the better half, else it would be the bitter half.
By this time, rekha had settled in enough that she was getting bored with things around her; don’t know whether it included me, that we had to make choices of either relocating to a city of our choice, where we had plenty of acquaintances or for her to look for a job over in Trivandrum. The latter than became more of a need, with a project tabled to me, where I had to travel to the UK in August for a couple of months, only to find out that the project now has evolved to continue through 2010 and looks eternal.
With this being the constrain, Rekha found a good job in a good company in Trivandrum and I flew over the UK. But with the prolonging of the project and that I had to continue there, distance and time zones started affecting even the newest of married people (though we knew each other and have been in this situation before though on opposite sides) and the choices and conversations that were had in the first quarter of our marriage (Am on a project, so trying to use some jargons).
The initial part of the project or time in the UK, was not that rigorous, as it was from October, that I found time to take some photos, travelled to Cardiff and spent time with little brother, wrote blogs (This is my first one since October) etc. But with the leg on the pedal, the rigour of the project accompanied with deadlines, I just found time to work, sleep, eat and make a few calls home for a few minutes, with certainly getting more than enough language from my wife for not giving her time. I even crossed that phase and it was time for me to make the vacation back home for Christmas. The thought of it gave me warmth and rekindled my energy, which certainly was getting sapped, due to long working hours. On the other hand, of me not being in the UK for the festive season was on my mind, but enjoying the warmth of my wife was far more appealing than the celebration in London. Also that, if I had made the latter choice of being in UK, I would have found heat and more heat arising from her – Hahaha.
The year ended really well, with the visit to India and spending some quality time with Rekha, my folks and hers, only to return to the UK, in the first week of January 2010. Overall, it has been a great year, I have known how to make every year a great one and it purely lies in our hand to make it great. There are some plans and promises for 2010 and am eager to create them and make it bigger than 2009. Lastly, thank God for giving me the courage, strength, health to make the last year a great one and to all those people who helped me, even in the minute of way possible, from the maid servant, to car washer to my friends, colleagues, stakeholders, relatives and finally my parents and brother – a BIG thank you.

A walk in the rain – What an experience!! – Part 2

It was light but really steady drizzle as I stepped out of office for my usual 40 minute walk back to the hotel. As I strode through Leaden Hall Road and Fenchurch Street, where my offices are located, you could see an array of umbrella’s, different sizes, shapes and colours. But that’s not the experience am speaking about. I just stood back for a second to look at all the sky scrapers in the vicinity and to my amusement; all of them were visible to their half only, as the rest were covered by a misty whiteness which had engulfed them. It was a sight not to be missed. As I enjoyed the view, it was time to move on, because you never know how the English weather would change. It could just turn into a downpour and I would be stranded in the middle of no where.

As I strode through the usual route, the walk towards Tower Hill Underground station and past it onto the Tower Bridge, I felt the same experience of that of Mumbai. The Londoners were striding at their usual pace, irrespective of the rain. Trust me; these guys walk really fast, compared to me. By the time I reached the tower bridge, my pant’s were beginning to get wet from the bottom and my suit was wet from behind already. Luckily because of the suit, I was still not feeling the real chill.

The walk on the tower bridge is awesome. On a normal day, you could see loads of people from different countries, background, ethnicity, colour etc. standing on it, admiring the Thames, clicking pictures, hugging each other, kissing and you can really feel a sense of romance and unconditional love around you. A feeling of being human and for a few minutes not worrying about the world you need to get back into, would clearly hit you when you focus on how these people relate to the others with them or the environment around them is at that very point. But today as it was raining, the normal bustle was missing and it was only the commuters trying to get back from work.

As I was walking, I looked at the Thames, it was truly a grand spectacle, that only nature can throw up at you. Half of the river was covered by mist, a light mixture of white and grey carpeting the Cruise Lines and HMS Belfast the World War II ship anchored on the river. The buildings in the background and London Bridge felt a mere existence to what nature had portrayed on the canvas called the ‘River Thames’. It’s one of those memories that would last for long in my mind and probably a story to tell my Grand children – that if I remember it till then. This picturesque visual attracts you to just stand there and keep admiring it, but when there are a few more heavy drops on your umbrella, you have to get of this wonder view, which certainly is dreamlike to proceed my walk to the hotel.

As all good things have to come to an end, so does my walk in the rain, only to settle in the warmth of my hotel room.

Truly a WOW experience.

A walk in the rain – What an experience!! – Part 1

It’s been raining the last three days in London and it’s that type of English rain, a relentless drizzle. While walking back home it just struck me, that I really have not enjoyed rain, nature at one of its best. Its not nature’s fury but one of those beautiful little things that nature offer’s you and we being so caught up in our lives don’t even have the slightest inclination to see it, leave alone, enjoying it. As this thought occurred to me, I started relating to the experience of how it feels being in the rain.

I ran the tortoise mosquito coil, to rewind my years in life to check within me, whether I have really experienced rain and it really hit me then, to notice that the answer was a definite NO. It really was reality check of sorts.

When I was young, rain meant, no school and sitting at home and that was the delight rain bought me. Probably I would have ventured a few times, to try a paper boat on the flowing water on the roads, or loved to kick the water out of the balcony in my house. We used to live on the first floor of a house and when it would rain, water would get accumulated in the balcony and you had to push it down to the ground floor to clear the balcony and I remember having fun kicking the water down. Another clear remembrance is how the rain would play spoil sport during Diwali. As a kid, I would have begged for a few tens or hundreds of Rupees from my parents to buy those crackers for diwali and exactly on diwali it would pour, just to sour your childishness, that of bursting crackers.

The next thought of rain surely is college days and in those 3 years there was more rain than I have experienced in Chennai. As guys we would love to go to college during those days, because we knew enough water would have entered the college gates for them to declare the evening off (I was in evening college). Then it would be party time, having that wonderful masala vada and chai at Nair’s tea shop near college or going to Besant Nagar beach in the rain and waiting for it to stop to eat really hot fried rice on the road side. Wow!, those days were great, it was the Summer of 96. By end of this fantastic experience you would be soaking wet, even if you were wearing a duckbag rain coat.

The other only experience of rain was when I was in Mumbai and I was startled and amazed as how the city continued to move on, in its own rapid speed irrespective of the mighty Mumbai monsoon. One certain experience was of getting a Dominos Pizza delivered in pouring rain in less than an hour, that too from Malad to Goregoan. But all these experiences were not life altering till the one I experienced last evening.

To be continued in part two.

Hotel NAV RANG – Kenton, North London

The last week, as me and my brother had decided to go the Swami Narayan Temple, we decided to wet our tongues to some Gujarati cuisine and hence called a Gujurati friend seeking advice on a good Gujurati outlet, matching our wallet. She then guided us to NAV RANG in Kenton.

As we finished our visit to the temple, we had to take the tube to Kenton and walk a mile to reach this place. We reached there about quarter past seven and they closed down at half eight, you are welcomed to very homely looking joint and a Gujurati girl welcomed us, of course in Gujurati and asked us what we would like to eat. We saw a poster saying unlimited thali for £3.50 and enquired what we would get of it, and she replied everything was unlimited and our eyes lit up to glory of eating some gujju food unlimited reminiscent to Hotel Saravana Bhavan or Mansukh in Chennai. As we sat on the table and she came with our plates, she gave us the first heart break or stomach break to say, only three roti’s the rest were unlimited. Now you have begun your dinner, travelled all the way, damn hungry and could not cancel and we said to ourselves, so be it.

As we waited for the roti’s, I tried the rice and dal, only to find it, out rightly cold and was truly disappointed by now. The roti’s arrived, atleast hot and melting with ghee. The first indulge of the roti with the curry, and surprise, surprise, the curry was cold as well. It felt as if, except the roti, the rest were made earlier, how early, your guess is as good as mine. It was a big let down, but then we were hungry and I asked for extra rice and dal, only to find the rice, dry – like if you cook rice and leave and re heat it, you find some of the rice dry, it was the same.

The next thing that came to my mind was the dialogue from the movie ‘Salaam Namaste’, where Saif, the Head Chef asks one of his cooks, ‘Doesn’t the food look homely and the cook replies, yes boss. For which Saif says, you eat at home itself if the food is so homely and they do not need to some to his restaurant to eat’. This was the case, it was so homely that god knows when it was made?

NAVRANG, became NEVER AGAIN. As the Brits say – ‘what a shame?’

Swami Narayan Temple – Wembley, North London

It’s been more than 6 weeks since I have been in London, and even before I left the divine shores of India, I was asked to visit this temple by my dad. The time had come to visit the temple the weekend that went by. In my mind it was just another temple and I believed it was a temple of Lord Narayana, till I reached the holy place, only to be flabbergasted by the grandeur.

It is good one hour plus journey from central London where I am put up currently, by tube or London underground and then by bus from the stone bridge underground station. As I got off the bus, I was visually stunned to look at a beautiful temple built by the Hindus for the Hindus in London. As expected you head first to cloak room, which reside opposite the entrance of the temple to leave your bag, camera etc and are allowed to carry only your wallet and switched of mobile phone. Then you walk across to enter the temple premise.

If you have ever gone to the ISCON temple in Bangalore, you would start to relate to it for its whiteness, thanks to 5000 tonnes of Italian Marble used to build this temple. Once you enter the premises, you go through an airport type security check. Then for men you turn left to leave your footwear and jackets, before you proceed in to the sanctum sanctorum. Opposite the entrance is the souvenir shop for you to purchase, incense sticks etc.

As you enter the sanctum sanctorum, you find an 3 feet idol of the sage Swami Narayan, and that’s were I realised the temple is about a sage who propagated Hinduism and that it is a sect followed religiously by the Gujarati community and not another temple or Lord Vishnu, where they conduct special puja’s and abhisekham’s. After having a glimpse of the idol, I felt – is that all, till you climb about 20 steps to the first floor to visit the great hall, brilliantly built with marble, fantastically lit and find murti’s of different god. You begin with Lord Ganesha, then Rama, then the different guru’s of the sect, Swami Narayan himself, Lord Shiva and Parvathi. Lord Krishna and end with Lord Hanuman.

As you sit in the hall, you begin to feel the silence in you and once you begin to meditate, you start to touch the soul within you thanks to the calm surrounding. Things seem to come to a stand still, till you feel you have finished with your routine at the temple. As you climb down, you enter a museum kind place for insights on Hinduism. You pay a couple of pounds and have a tour of the same.

As you finish your tour and the around the temple and you walk out to collect your belongings, right round the corner, you can find a Gujarati restaurant and an Indian supermarket run by the trust. It had already been a long afternoon and it was time to indulge into the great India Samosa and some batata vada.

As we walked around this great monument in North London towards the bus stand, you feel privileged about being a Hindu. I would say a must see for all in London.
This place gives you so much inner peace when compared to fast paced life of London.

London, East Ham – The experience

It’s general knowledge that the part of London, East Ham is dominated by the Asian Community. But only once you enter the area do you realise how Asian it can be. From the time you exit out of the underground station onto the streets of East ham, you start listening to different South east Asian languages varying from Tamil, Telegu, Hindi, Malayalam, Urdu and of course Bangla. That’s not all, you certainly feel like India, for the roads are littered, Paan stain nearly every feet, very Indian. A host of Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani and Bangladeshi restaurants and shops invite you.

A CD shop showcasing a Mohan Lal film poster and few other India films, a Paan shop, the famous Saravana Bhavan etc roll the red carpet into East Ham’s high street. It’s a buzzing environment. Being Saturday and the Indian festivals extending over from the weekend to Monday, to close the dussehra period, there are shops selling everything you want for the festivities. Also you find people selling calling cards and mobile connections with the cheapest rates to India and Pakistan and the other south Asian countries.

Then the faces, truly south East Asian. You can find loads of tamilians eating away, grannies and woman dressed in authentic silk saris to kids in pavadai’s, guys chatting away in Telegu or hyderabadi Hindi, or Malayalam, the experience is truly Indian. For a second you would be deceived to believe that you are in London, East Ham rather than brigade road in Bangalore.

The objective of our visit (My Bro was with me), was to go the famous Chennai Dosa restaurant to have their buffet breakfast. As we hit the first sign of the restaurant, and that I had researched about it on the net and that their website was impressive to say the least, I was totally stunned looking at the ambience. All you would find is a Bangalore darshini type or a local vegetarian outfit in Chennai. If you still did not get it, let me elaborate, plastic chairs with a table, whose top is of granite. Now you would be able to relate.

As we entered, it was full. They serve breakfast from half six in the morning to half eleven and we reached about quarter past ten and it was full. We were lucky to get a table for two and we quickly grabbed our seats. The next thing was for us to move onto the buffet and my life came back to see what was available in the menu. Super hot, Idli’s (not recommended can kill anyone, if you throw it at them), fantastic onion Uthappam’s, crispy on the edges, hot and extremely crispy Vada’s that were not oily (that’s the way, Vada’s need to be, brought back memories of Shanti Sagar and hotel woodlands in Bangalore), ghee filled Pongal, a little Oily Puri (Puri’s have to be oily, isn’t) with saagu, some sweet and of course Dosa’s to order.

As we filled our plates to our choice of the spread, we ordered a masala Dosa each for the table. I opened the inning’s and started to belt down my first take, and my taste buds were germinating and originating from the tongue which had died a few backs thanks to a very bread oriented diet. As we finished our first round, and dwelled into the second the Dosa’s arrived. Brilliantly brown, crisp, the right amount of ghee and some good masala. Oh!! I totally forgot to mention the phenomenal tenga chatni, Wow!!, my mouth is still watering as I pen it down. You could compare it any restaurant from south India and they would match it to the tee. Of course they had a few more varieties of chatni available.

As we started to dig deep into the Dosa, the guy who got us the Dosa had brought an extra ghee roast by mistake. Now the ghee roast was begging my attention and not to disappoint it, as soon as I finished the masala Dosa, I attacked the ghee roast and Man!, trust me that Dosa would give a run to any other Dosa, made in any part of the world – gorgeous.

By this time, I was feeling like a python (MP- Malla Pambu), after it had just finished a meal, unable to move or walk. But then such a great breakfast, without filter coffee would be a total injustice and so I took courage to order for one and washed it down my throat. Once that peak was achieved it was a struggle to get up and walk another 10 minutes to the station for our next train out of East Ham to our next destination.

To put all into one simple statement, I felt as if I was back in India, belting out in a restaurant and enjoying my time out. Thank god for creating East Ham and Chennai Dosa and for bringing back my taste buds and all this for less than 4 pounds each. What a deal? Chennai Dosa, I would certainly patronage you till am in London and of course, I would advocate it to any Indian in London or visiting London.

Till next time adios.

A weekend in truly God’s own Country

It’s now been a few months in Kerala – God’s own country and Rekha and I have visited a few places, the same I have blogged earlier. The last trip we did was to the Travancore Heritage a resort about 30 Kms from Trivandrum.

Let me start saying ‘WOW’ – what a wonderful and blissful experience it was. First the rates we paid were off –season and then got a corporate rate as well and it was still expensive in my terms. But got to give to the resort, that the price tag was just peanuts for the solace and bliss we got out just being out there for a day and night. To give a bit of the resort – it is perched on a 50 metre high cliff and you would need to take the elevator, which is within the cliff to go down to hit the beach.

We reached Travancore Heritage at about 4 p.m. on Saturday afternoon (we had booked for a late check in and out) to be welcomed with some, Kerala style Tender coconut. You may feel, so what ?, but what got my attention was the way they had cut the coconut, its bottom, basically that the coconut could rest on the table. A first time view of such a creative way to cut a tender coconut. Then we were escorted to our cottage – I had especially asked for one facing the ocean. I was stunned immediately as we reached out cottage, for, the view of the ocean was not only breath taking but truly out of this world, absolutely spectacular.

Usually, my experience of resorts have been such that, there is nature all around you, but the cottage or your logout you lodge into is pretty posh and in tune with the luxury. But this resort and their cottages are different. The cottages are truly built and furnished to ensure the interiors are in sync with the nature and the environment that you are in. The best about the cottage I liked was the bathroom. A quarter of it is open, allowing the sun to penetrate into the toilet, keeping it fresh, thanks to the wind and the sun. The best part is that, when it rains you can shower under the best water available in this planet.

We checked in, refreshed and hit the beach to feel the ocean waters. The sea was rough and waves high, but we really enjoyed ourselves for about an hour. We returned to our cottage and spent the evening sitting out on the verandah facing the sea and watching the sunset and the high waves splashing the shores. The sound of the waves, the noises the insects were making and the absolute still silence in the resort truly moved us closer to nature. This spell of a few hours, surely rejuvenated me from the hectic work life I was going through the last few weeks and am sure as for Rekha, helped her to throw out her frustration of being lonely at home by being one with nature. We proceeded for dinner and as in all resorts the buffet spread was lavish. We indulged into the spread and hit the sack to the comfort of a noisy air-conditioner.

The next day was a stroll around the resort, enjoy the environment, take a few snaps and then the lunch, which in my opinion was better than the dinner and that we missed the breakfast, the food was really melting into our mouths. We then rested ourselves onto the hammocks, like how a python would do after its meal. Just being still on the hammock with the noise of the waves and the cool green surrounding, I wanted this experience to continue non stop. But as all things come to an end, we had to check out and drive home. We reached our lovely home close to dusk to end a wonderful weekend. I would say this probably has been the best experience so far, that I have had in Kerala.

the Photos of the trip can be accessed from this link http://picasaweb.google.com/askpriyesh/TravancoreHeritage18July09#

Frisking of Kalam – Is it a ‘Salam’ or an ‘Alarm’

This blog has been sometime coming thanks to the overload of work suddenly.

Let me build the context, which most of you would have already read about in the Newspaper’s or seen it on television – today, all the news channel just need ‘any’ story to run through a week of programs. The news channels are really becoming an absolute no brainer, with dead stories. Mr. Abdul Kalam, the erstwhile President of our country was frisked by an American Airline on Indian Shores.

So what – this is one of way looking at this issue. He is like any other traveller for the airline and as per the norms of the airline they frisked him. But for god damn – he was the ‘President’ of this country, the highest office in the country, though we all know it’s just a rubber stamp, so what ? I would have not bothered if it was any other Babu in his place, but lets give it to Mr. Kalam as everyone knows, how different he was / is to all the other Babu’s who run our country. This man is a genius and what has he not done for this country’s scientific movement and this is the reason for me write about him and the issue into a blog.

In India, if we receive a head of a state of any other country we drive through into the tarmac to receive them. So is it not basic to underestimate the treatment Kalam received. Also, lets be realistic to the fact that, the airline was just being American in their approach – so rigid and do not care attitude that they posses, that they feel there exists no other country apart from the states. Man !, he was escorted by jawans and is that not evident that he is a VIP in this country. Also please explain to the world the ignorance of the staff in the airline not only, in not identifying the VIP (Cause all Babu’s have this clout – will even give this to the airline) but not identifying the ex president, who sports a rock star hair style which is so identifiable or Kalam – able.

Having said all this, what was the aviation ministry doing about it – did not disclose this issue for more than a few months after the incident had happened. Then it woke up to ‘SALAM’, ‘Kalam’ and Babu’s on the issue and created a huge furore. The timing of this furore has been perfect, especially looking at the restructuring of the national carrier and the bail out issue of 20000 crores hanging like the Damocles sword over the ministry. Praful Patel has always been a shrewd player, and his timing on this one has been perfect. The public suddenly have turned their attention to the Kalam issue and we only see Praful delivering interviews on this issue and the TV channels have forgotten about Air India. The choice to ‘Salam’ was brilliantly executed.

Over and above all this, there is an underlying issue which the media certainly have not picked up in detail. Sitaram Yechury made a statement in the parliament – ‘he stated that Kalam’s name resembles one of a Muslim and that could be a reason for his frisking’. A very valid point considering the fear with which the Americans live with respect to the Muslim world. Irrespective of Obama embracing the Muslim world through his speeches across and in the Middle East this fear will linger long. The American airline could have very well done the frisking on the same basis, the basis called fear. If this is the case --- then we are in real trouble in India.

The simple fact that India boasts more Muslim’s in a country outside the Islamic world and the instance of frisking every Muslim traveller is astonishingly idiotic.

This certainly is the ‘ALARM’ India needs to wake up to and look at this issue with a microscopic eye and dig into the context of the airline frisking Kalam.

Whatever said and done and written by me, this fiasco is a certain grey mark on the aviation industry and more on the aviation ministry.

Please for heaven’s sake give some respect the seal of the country, the head of the nation and the seat called the ‘President of India’.

Recession – (foot) Balls to you

Final sequel to Champions -- Game Changers

Nothing derogatory about the heading, but pure play economics that is making even the shrewdest of businessmen look ordinary and their company’s balance sheet even worse. Let me throw some figures that have been paid to some footballers in the last few weeks. £80 million was the amount paid by Real Madrid the Spanish football club to buy Christiano Ronaldo from Manchester United. Close to £50 million paid by the same club to buy the Brazilian footballer Kaka. Where is recession, I can’t even smell it.

Ronaldo was voted the best English Footballer, the Best European footballer and the World footballer of the year, all three in the same year in 2008. The record transfer makes him the richest transfer in footballing history and has certainly changed the rules of the game, in context to what a player need to be paid for a transfer from another club. Mind it, he does not get even a penny for the deal and all the money goes to his older club. So what does he get – rumours are that he might be paid upto £ 3, 00,000 a week plus bonuses and please don’t forget the bucks he makes from endorsements. Let me do some math for you and convert them into Indian rupees. Real Madrid paid a whopping 640 crore rupees to buy him from Manchester United and pays him a salary of 2.5 crore rupees a week to play for them. Another news I read today that an English club, owned by Arabs were willing to pay an English footballer £4, 00,000 a week if his transfer deal goes through.

The amount Real Madrid have so far spent in the transfer window this year alone is £200 million, translating into 1600 crore rupees. The recently opened Worli sea link in Mumbai was built on a budget of 1300 crore rupees – Man!!, no wonder we are a poor country. We can’t even spend money on our infrastructure, in comparison to the money that gets spent buying football players in Europe.

Children across the globe want to become a Ronaldo or a Kaka, fanatics rush into stadiums to watch their games, TV viewership is astounding, the memorabilia sales of their clubs are unbelievable and all this because they are true champions. To add to this, I try and watch every Manchester United game, am a true fan you see (There is a saying in England – ‘You can even divorce your wife, but do not change the club you support’) and I have even bought memorabilia of the top 4 footballing clubs in England.

Mind blowing how champions become game changers in their field and influence the Junta.

Champions – Game Changers

This blog is a sequel to the previous one.

In the last one we read about Roger Federer, his successful and illustrious career and how difficult it is to decipher the functionality of a champion’s brain. In this blog let’s look at individual superstars from a team game and how they have changed the game on its head, both from a fanaticism and a financial stand point.

Ideally like any Indian am starting from cricket and certainly my favourite Sachin Tendulkar. All of you reading this blog know, how cricket in an undefined religion and one religion that unites this glorious country. Till the beginning of the nineties, crickets was just a game and only if you had the real talent were you allowed to play the game against education in India. The majority of the cricketers came from north India and the big towns and majorly dominated by, then Bombay. Education was always first to the middle class Indian, than cricket till a little wonder, a genius called Tendulkar arrived onto the big stage from the same cricketing city – Bombay.

He then really turned the rules of the game and is certainly, one big game changer not only for cricket in India but for Cricket and cricketers across the globe. His genius and his game, not only got him fame but financials the sport never imagined. If my memory serves me right, transworld international a sports consultancy headed by the lat Mark Mascarehnas signed him up for a record 960 crores, for a 5 year deal in the mid nineties. He pulled in crowds to the stadiums, TV viewership sky rocketed (Thanks to Cable TV) and the BCCI were raking in the moolah. Not that India was winning every major tournament, infact they won hardly a handful, but he re-christened a sport once called the gentleman’s game – more a pass time sport created by the royal English, to one where you had to compete to be the best, which helped to cash in for sure. The prize money of matches grew significantly and what, the victorious world cup winning Indian team made, was now being paid for Ranji trophy matches. Middle class families in India looked at an opportunity to push their boys into the sport and spend on them, and education, was now not the real front runner it used to be, at least when compared to the eighties. Boys just wanted to be a Tendulkar, parents wanted the moolah and viewers now want entertainment, thanks to T20 rather than cricket. Even if you hate him, you must salute this genius for changing the game to what it is today.

He certainly is a champion in my book.

In the next blog you will have a feel into international Club Football and what champions are made of.

Champions – Winners and Game Changers

Champions – the word resurrects and resonates POWER. The intent of this blog is look at how difficult it is to interpret what champions are made of and what could be inside their head, which separates them from the ordinary. The field am taking on in this blog in is international sport – an area of keen interest to me.

Let’s start with the latest headline to hit the sport’s fraternity – Tennis and Wimbledon. By the time this blog hits your mailbox, am certain you would have read about the remarkable win, Roger Federer had last night in the Wimbledon men’s finals beating Roddick. The win catapults him back to world No. 1 which he had for a consecutive 250 weeks plus – phenomenal for any individual. But that alone does not make him great, but to win 15 single’s men’s grand slams, making him the only one to achieve this feat makes him the greatest. This feat was achieved in front some of the best tennis stars the game has ever witnessed, for the likes of Sampras, Borg, Laver, Becker, Edberg and others, and in front of superstars of other sports like, Sachin Tendulkar, Micheal Ballack – the German football captain and Chelsea Midfielder and of course Sir Alex Ferguson of Manchester United.

So what makes Federer the champion? Books have been written trying to decipher what’s inside a champion’s mind, millions of analyses have gone into find the functioning of the brain, of a champion, but none have arrived with a true cut answer – we know how infinite and miraculous the human brain can be. Let me relate to a book I had read called ‘BLINK’, by Malcolm Gladwell, where the author through significant different researches tries to find an answer to the question we are talking about. He talks about how successful ‘SNAP’ judgements, made by human beings are, in comparison to the one’s we logically arrive at. Let me illustrate this with an example from a lay man’s life – do we logically probe ourselves before we propose to guy or a gal, its instinctive and that what blink is all about. To put the same into perspective, with respect to last night’s match, Roddick flinched twice – leading 6-2 in the second set tie breaker, allowing Federer to win the set and last game of the match. Both time Federer blinked to be successful. The second set win nearly demoralised Roddick out of the match. He was nearly mentally disintegrated by Federer’s play. Mental disintegration – a term very synonymous with the Australian cricket team and Steve Waugh.

Commentators and analysts often speak about the champion’s self belief in his abilities and self confidence. Let me throw something at you, totally out of the box, for you to chew – I believe, self belief in one’s own abilities, comes from not succumbing to one’s fear of failures, which is a direct relationship of being in the present and not relating to past events of one’s life. We have often heard commentators state a player being “In the Zone” – what does that mean? In pure terms, one being with oneself in that very moment of life as life happens, and not even contemplating a nano second about the past or the future.

Now let’s look at self confidence. It’s totally the reverse of what you just read. Self confidence arises from the fact that you had done a good job of the same event in the past. Putting it into perspective, Federer’s confidence arises from the number of wins he has had under his belt in the past years and hours of practise he has put in. It’s so paradoxical that, even ontology can be given a run. But to look deeper, we can argue that self confidence come from looking at the abilities that you have versus the task you have to render. If you look carefully, I have not used the word capability, as, this word arises from the comparison of your abilities to either your own past, or with a friend, a peer, a relative etc. So capability becomes an evil and does not allow you to be in the present or be in your zone, but be in the zone you are comparing yourself with.

So when we can’t decipher on how a champion illustrates his self belief or confidence or for, matter of fact, we can’t decipher the ideal meaning of self belief and self confidence how are we going to look into the functioning of a champion’s brain.

The struggle into this investigation continues and champions keep arising every moment.

The next blog will look at how these champions become game changers.

Kerala – The Monsoon has certainly arrived

It’s been a few weeks since the met department had signed off the arrival of the monsoon into Kerala, but I believe it was not until a few days earlier that the impact is being felt. There are two things about a monsoon. First is a no brainer – rains and thus cooling the temperature around you and giving a boost to the ecological and economic environment. The second is what am going to blog – the experience.

Monsoons are caused by the larger amplitude of the seasonal cycle of land temperature compared to that of nearby oceans. Strengthening of the Asian monsoon has been linked to the uplift of the Tibetan Plateau after the collision of India and Asia around 50 million years ago. Timing of the monsoon strengthening of the Indian Monsoon of around 5 million years ago was suggested due to an interval of closing of the Indonesian Seaway to cold thermocline waters passage from the Pacific to the Indian Ocean which is believed to have resulted in an increased sea surface temperature in the Indian Ocean. I guess this defines what a monsoon is and why it occurs on the Indian Ocean. To read in-depth about monsoons, you can visit the following website – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monsoon.

It’s been a couple days since the rain has been constant and persistent, cooling the temperature and killing the humidity, allowing the inner temperature of your body to be constant and certainly keeping your mind calm. You might be thinking, I have lost it – Keeping your mind calm. The answer is yes, thanks to the serenity and the tranquility, the experience created by the rain when it falls and hits the ground over gods own country.

Let me share the wonderful experience I had this morning driving to work. Trust me, I have not had this pleasure so far – especially while driving to work. It certainly was overcast as I drove out my parking lot, of my flat complex heading towards NH 4, the driveway to work. As it should be, it started to drizzle, softly, quietly and so non-chalantly that the wipers in the car were not required but surely the petrichor certainly was filling up my nasals. The sky turned grey from white or light sky blue and within seconds opened up to what was now a downpour. I hit the junction on NH 4 to turn right towards technopark (You can’t define it as a techno – park), the climate around turned really grey and started moving towards shades of black, rain cluttering on your windshield, but the surrounding, reverberating with pastures of green. The green on either side of the road covered the surrounding, allowing the road to reflect the water droplets so prominently that you’re ‘wowed’ into a different world. It felt like the pathway to heaven opened with a black shiny carpet, interiored with greens on the side and grey on the top.

By the time I feel and experience this, the green disappears for a while exposing the greyed sky, fuming out water from the top as if the shower in a bath was broken and I suddenly feel I just walked out of a closed entity or more so a confinement. This experience is so scintillating, it can’t be written. With this experience, I can’t hear the honking trucks, feel the headlights penetrating my eyes from oncoming vehicles (remember it is dark that we need to switch our headlights on, though it is half nine in the morning), the illogical traffic sense (if there is one and sense in the right direction) of my way riders that usually make me fume and sweat even inside an air-conditioned car. It’s an exhilarating experience.

As I soak in the experience and feel the aura of the monsoon around me, I reach the gates of technopark. Technopark is just a name for all the companies situated inside, but ,no where is it close even to resembling one, especially if you come from the IT capital or other IT hubs of this country, where you can see yourself off any building as they are all concrete jungles built with glass all around them, that Saint Gobain would be proud of them. Once you enter the technopark, unless you drive into the side lanes where the buildings are located, you would have no sign of glass till you drive deep into the park to locate the other buildings. And even then there does not exist a building that boasts of only glassed environment that makes you feel that you are a specimen in a lab bottle or a worm in a tequila bottle.

The park itself is simmering green and nature is shining through, thanks to the pelting rain. The environment feels clean, smells green and you feel like a man wearing pure white that you actually don’t feel anything but yourself and the feeling of being one with Mother Nature. All dreams end when you wake and so does this experience as I turn in my car to a parking lot to get to work. The experience had to come to an end, but will live with me for ever and will be synonym with Kerala.

Michael Jackson – An ode to a Maverick

MJ as he was fondly called is a true reminiscence of my childhood. As I grew up in the early 80’s and 90’s, the only thought of western music would always be MJ, the album thriller or his poster with BAD written on it. Be it for my generation or the previous or the one immediately after me, he was next to god (Not taking it away from the other generations). He revolutionised music from the western world. We had no Google to understand the different genres of music or torrent to download. We never grew up with trance, lounge or remixes. All said POP was the in thing and we were often reprimanded verbally from the elder members of the family for listening to them, as they were bad western influences. (Today majority of the things we do, wear or talk is western. For e.g. you are reading a blog, my blog, A blog is a western idea, the internet is a western technology, I can go on …)

Un-till the mid 90’s, till MTV came in through cable television, atleast I had no clue of what was POP, Metal, Heavy Metal was or even the other bands, singers, musician etc. MJ was my king of that world called English music. English music meant the music from the movie the ‘The Sound of Music’. No exposure at all till the King arrived. I still remember trying my best to save 30 rupees to by the BAD album. It was an era where you had to listen to MJ to be socially – the happening kid. Listening to Illayaraja or RD Burman, you were termed too Indian and not acclimatising to the western culture and you would be left out – peer pressure.

Who can forget the man who created break dance for us, I can call him “the father of Break Dance” as I saw him first doing those inordinate dance steps. Can you forget the man who caught his crotch, so often, publically, that you would be embarrassed to the hilt and that’s not all, would then shriek his lungs out holding on to them as if he was committing hara-kiri. Man!!!, he created a cult – don’t know what, but a culture that changed the world. Can we forget him doing his famous moonwalk – the smooth movement of his body backwards that stunned viewers globally and we were all in awe of something stupendous. Men and women would cry out loud at every instance of spotting him, he was god to him.

Haven’t the world copied many a dance step from him. The Indians too did it and we did not miss even this opportunity to copy and wasn’t an era where we had to copy the western side of this globe to most of what we wanted to do in life. Don’t we remember Javed Jaffrey, Anand Babu (The Tamil movie dancer, son of actor Nagesh who had returned from the USA and created ripples with his dance) and the so called ‘The dancer of Indian Cinema’ Prabhu Deva – who was slated as India’s answer to MJ and break dance. WOW what nostalgia this man’s demise has brought forth to me – my childhood.

Am not going to write the negatives or the so called scandals, because we have read this in the past and will read it again and again in the present and the future. But we got to give this man the due respect of being a genius, a maverick and creator of a genre of music and dance that is distinct to MJ, that the world revelled on it and will never let it die.

He ‘thrill(er)’ed us with his music, he ‘beat it’, he wanted the to ‘heal the world’, wanted the ‘Bad’ and ‘Dangerous’ things to end, no ‘blood anywhere not even on the Dance floor’. He did not want any ‘Smooth Criminal’ or even a ‘Stranger in Moscow’ and all he wanted was one world – ‘We are the World’.He and his music and his life will be penned in ‘Black and White’ into the books of ‘History’. Let his soul Rest in Peace. We will miss you MJ and we will “Remember the time”.

Kerala – Gods Own Country, could be true.

This blog is an attempt to link Kerala to the Dasavatharam (The ten incarnations of Maha Vishnu and not Kamal Hassan’s movie). This is not to comment on the experience am having or what Kerala truly is.

I was reading about the Dasavatharam on the net and found some literature which got me really inquisitive and hence want to share the same.(assuming what was written in the article and what am going to spell out from the article is accurate)

To begin lets look at the avatar – Parashurama – Parashurama is the sixth avatar of Vishnu and a son of Jamadagni. He received an axe after doing penance for Shiva. We know that Parasurama killed the entire clan of Kaartaveerya-arjuna, when the king initially wanted the divine cow from Jamadagni and on refusal a coup was tried to get the cow and Parashurama kills the king and the army. On which the prince kills Jamadagni and in return Parashurama ends the clan. According to one legend, the story goes on that Parashurama was struck by remorse at his wanton killings, and offered penance on a mountain top. The sea god Varuna responded, and offered him land equal to the distance he could throw his axe. Parasurama threw his axe from Gokarnam and it fell at Kanyakumari. As promised the sea gave way to land, thus giving rise to Kerala. Interesting isn’t it and is that why the state is referred to as Gods Own Country ?

Let’s now go back to the previous Avatar – Vamana – Vamana is the Fifth Avatar of Vishnu, a dwarf Brahmin. He is also known as Upendra. He defeats the Devas' (Gods') enemy Maha Bali Chakravarthi (of the demon race) into giving up all of the heavens and earth. We also know that the third step he takes from the granted wish Vamana gets, he places his feet over the head of the king thus defeating him. Vamana then took on the form of Mahavishnu. He was pleased by King Bali's determination and ability to keep his promise in the face of his spiritual master's curse and the prospect of losing all his wealth. Vishnu named the King Mahabali since he was a Mahatma (great soul). He allowed Mahabali to return to the spiritual sky to associate with Prahalada (the demoniac Hiranyashipu's pious son, also a descendant of the demon race) and other divine beings. Mahavishnu also declared that Mahabali would be able to rule the universe in the following yuga (age).

According to one legend, Bali is supposed to return every year to the land of his people, to ensure that they are prosperous. This is celebrated as the Onam festival in Kerala, where he is also called Maveli. – Wow, isn’t it – is this why the state is called Gods Own Country ?

If we reflect on this literature and believe it be accurate, then a sense of déjà vu really beckons to look at

'Kerala being Gods Own Country'.

LALGARH – Is the Indian Government a LULL GHAR

Maoists :The basic tenets of Maoism include revolutionary struggle of the vast majority of people against the exploiting classes and their state structures, termed a people war Usually involving peasants, its military strategies have involved guerrilla war tactics focused on surrounding the cities from the countryside, with a heavy emphasis on political transformation through the mass involvement of the basic people of the society.

Does this definition from the web a good enough start to identify how the Indian Government present and past have dealt with the various security issues in the country and across different states. The Indian government made up of the two houses is certainly a Lull Ghar in my opinion and in my limited knowledge have seen no pro-active measures rather only reactive actions.

Why is the government waiting for major events to take place before it acts, its always lull and waits for the storm. Be it the Maoists in Bengal, Jharkhand and other states or the Naxals in AP and nearby states. The catastrophe of the 26/11, the un-equipped Mumbai Police, who had ammunition which is not only outdated but worth placing them as artifacts in any India museum. A real shame for a country who boasts as a hub for international IT and research areas, boast of 90% of the urban youth available to take world projects, but sit like a duck waiting to be hunted when it comes to security.

Also, security regulations imposed are not consistent across the country and anyone can infiltrate the system. Pick a few airports across India apart from the major hubs and you can get away with all the rules broken. Even in the major hubs the rules for men and women are different. Women can carry deodorants and liquid in their handbag but men can’t carry any in their cabin bag though the rule does not permit anyone from carrying it, though internationally, the permissible limit is 100 ml per passenger, subject to scanning of the liquids or the gels. We want to try and use the international rule which is great, but where is the consistency. On international flights, passengers especially in the western countries are allowed to carry one cigarette lighter, whilst in India it banned, but you can get away thanks to fantastic frisking the security guards do. My last trip to the Trivandrum airport to board an international flight, I saw passengers with match boxes lighting their energy stick after the security check – amazing.

A few days back, there was an article stating the improved facilities available to the Mumbai police, like bullet proof vehicles etc., but for god’s sake where are those multi functional, state of the art ammunition. Every infiltrator who wants to cause damage has ammunition generations ahead of our police force. The government is absolutely lull about it. We budget crores of rupees for the defense, where is it spent and on what is it spent – damn it’s my tax also which goes into that budget.

I can keep penning stories upon stories on how the government is so reactive than being an action oriented responsive state unit. The government is certainly a LULL GHAR.